Seeing the terror creeping across Zuko’s face, Azula smiled with immense satisfaction and shrugged her shoulders.
“All right, all right.
Maybe you don’t trust me, but I’ll still tell you everything I heard.” Azula shifted her posture, mimicking Azulon’s deep, booming cadence: “Your brother has suffered enough!
“As for you… your punishment has only just begun.
“I want you to know the exact pain of losing a firstborn son.
I command you to execute your eldest son with your own hands!” “That’s not true!
You’re lying!” Zuko instinctively gripped his blanket, his knuckles turning stark white.
“Oh~” Azula dragged out the sound, her tone dripping with mock pity.
“Dear brother, I’m only saying this for your own good.
If you don’t run, death is the only fate waiting for you.” She paused, her tone suddenly shifting into something playful and mischievous.
“Or you could find some nice family in the Earth Kingdom to take you in Just imagine it.
You’ll get married there, have children there.
“And then, one day, I’ll lead the army with Father, the new Fire Lord, and we’ll take Ba Sing Se together.
You’ll kneel humbly at my feet.
And I’ll help you up and appoint you governor of some Earth Kingdom city.” Azula raised a finger to her lips and smiled sweetly.
“Of course, that’s assuming I still remember you by then.” “Shut up!
I know Father… Father would never do that to me!
I’m his child…” Zuko said the words to comfort himself, but his body was already trembling.
He did not want to believe her, yet what Azula said was very likely true.
What am I supposed to do?
Azula was about to say more when their mother’s steady voice came from outside the door.
“Your father is not going to do anything to you!” After first reassuring Zuko, Ursa seized Azula’s wrist and asked coldly, “What happened?” Azula had clearly not expected her mother to appear.
Caught off guard, she could only turn her head away and mutter reluctantly, “I don’t know.” “It seems we need to have a proper talk.” Without giving Azula a chance to object, Ursa pulled her out the door, leaving Zuko alone as he repeated to himself, over and over, that Azula was lying.
After learning what had happened from Azula, Ursa’s brow tightened.
She sent Azula back to her room, then immediately went to find Ozai, who was drinking alone.
Ozai’s hair hung loose.
He glanced at Ursa, this wife for whom he felt little affection, his voice thick with resentment.
“What are you doing here?
Come to laugh at me for being a failure?” “You want the throne?” Ursa got straight to the point.
Ozai let out a mocking scoff.
“Was I masking it that well?” “I can help you.” Ursa looked him in the eye and spoke each word clearly.
Ozai’s interest was obvious.
“How?” “I have one condition,” Ursa said slowly.
“Of course.
If you can help me take the throne, I’ll agree to anything.” Ozai waved a hand, answering carelessly through the smell of wine.
“You will not harm Zuko.
In exchange, His Majesty will die tonight.” A mother’s resolve is absolute.
At this moment, the sheer, treasonous gravity of Ursa’s determination caused even Ozai to feel a fleeting chill down his spine.
But immediately following the chill, a burning fire of ambition ignited within his eyes—the raw desire to finally grasp absolute power!
Yes.
If my father dies and Iroh’s return remains uncertain, I am the sole immediate successor to the throne!
However, there was still one glaring problem.
Ozai stared fixedly into Ursa’s eyes.
“The Fire Sages will never recognize my claim!” Ursa turned away to leave, throwing a cold, final statement over her shoulder: “They’ll have no choice.” Ozai nodded.
He did not even look at Ursa as she left.
His voice was indifferent.
“Regardless of whether you succeed or fail, I will be exiling you.” Ursa paused briefly, but the thought of Zuko solidified her resolve.
Her footsteps remained unwavering as she walked away, leaving behind a simple, final acknowledgment: “I know.” … The night stretched long.
Ursa removed her royal crown, donning a heavy winter cloak.
She stood beside her sleeping firstborn, leaning down to gently kiss Zuko on the forehead.
Zuko stirred uneasily, curling inward.
Her eyes filling with a profound, aching reluctance, Ursa turned her back on him and walked out into the night.
“I am sorry, my child.
Please forgive me.” A single tear fell, instantly scattered by the passing breeze.
… When Ren woke the next morning, the capital had changed overnight.
The moment he opened his door, he saw armored soldiers patrolling the streets in every direction.
They were not ordinary guards.
These men wore full armor and carried the cold killing air of trained troops.
It was the Imperial Fire Nation Army.
“You there, boy.
What are you sneaking around for?” Spotting Ren standing frozen in the middle of the street, the patrol leader immediately shouted a harsh interrogation.
Ren quickly cupped his hands in a respectful salute.
“Sir, I’m a student from the school.
I was just wondering what has happened?” Hearing this, the armored soldier looked Ren up and down, noting his student uniform before nodding stiffly.
“If you have no business outside, go home.
School is suspended for now.
The whole city is under lockdown.” Ren was utterly baffled, completely blind to the catalyst behind the shift.
He pushed further, asking, “But wasn’t everything perfectly fine just a couple of days ago?” The soldier glanced cautiously to his left and right before lowering his voice to explain: “The Fire Lord has passed away.” The single sentence struck Ren like a physical blow, sending his mind racing at a frantic pace.
Was it an accident, or was it assassination?
Who will inherit the throne?
Will the Fire Nation’s political situation change?
Most importantly, will civil war break out?
The Fire Lord’s death had occurred at the absolute worst possible moment.
Why couldn’t the old man have held on until the Grand General returned to the capital to hand over his military command?
General Iroh was currently leading his massive army back to the homeland.
If he suddenly received news that his father was dead, he might accept the succession if it went smoothly.
But if it didn’t?
Wouldn’t he be entirely justified in launching a military coup to claim his birthright?
The mere thought made Ren’s scalp tingle with anxiety.
That was General Iroh they were talking about—a man whose military prestige was currently at an absolute zenith.
It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that with a single command from the Dragon of the West, at least sixty percent of the Fire Nation military would instantly launch an insurrection.
As for the idea that a simple decree from the capital could casually strip a legendary general of his army?
What an absolute joke.
This wasn’t some poorly written web novel where logic didn’t matter.
One should never underestimate a commander’s absolute, unyielding grip on his own forces, especially a commander as widely revered as Iroh.
Furthermore, the Fire Nation possessed a cultural tradition that fiercely idolized the strong and utterly despised the weak.
If civil war broke out… What would happen to Zuko and Azula?
As for turning the situation around with some miraculous counterattack, that was nonsense.
Iroh was the Fire Nation’s most outstanding general, the undefeated Dragon of the West, and he still held an army of more than a hundred thousand.
How could the capital forces possibly match that kind of raw might?
Cut off Iroh’s supply lines?
When your neighbor hoards grain and you hoard weapons, your neighbor’s granary effectively becomes your own!
Still, thinking too much now was useless.
Ren could only return home first and write a letter to Master Piandao, explaining his current worries.
Of course, the most important point was that Ren had already prepared for the worst.
If the situation turned bad, he needed to rely on his teacher’s connections to run.
Watching the messenger hawk fly across the gloomy sky, Ren sighed.
He could only hope things would not move in the worst possible direction.