chapter 47 : Eldest Son Fu Su

With the skeleton militia in place, Long Su's attention shifted to the summoning of a new, more advanced unit: the level 2 skeleton soldiers.

With a cost of 20 gold coins per unit, he proceeded to summon 1,000 of these formidable warriors

As the last of the skeleton soldiers took their place among the ranks, Long Su surveyed his forces with satisfaction.

At a cost of 20,000 gold coins, their addition was a strategic investment, ensuring that Xianyang City would be well-protected in the face of growing threats.

With the remaining gold set aside for emergencies and the potential acquisition of equipment, Long Su felt confident in the continued growth and development of his empire.

The summoning of the skeleton soldiers was marked by a profound and enigmatic display of energy, a stark contrast to the radiant white light that typically accompanied the summoning of the skeleton slaves and militia.

As Long Su called forth these elite warriors, the air was filled with a palpable sense of anticipation, the very atmosphere seeming to hold its breath in eager expectation.

In a dramatic departure from the norm, a vortex of dark purple energy began to swirl around the palace square, its inky tendrils reaching out to caress the bones of the assembled soldiers.

The hue was rich and mysterious, an amalgamation of the deepest shades of violet that seemed to hint at the untapped potential and hidden depths of the skeletal warriors.

As the vortex grew in intensity, the soldiers' bones began to hum with an otherworldly resonance, their forms absorbing the swirling energy and transforming before Long Su's eyes.

With each passing moment, their frames grew stronger, their armor gleaming with the intricate engravings of the Daqin words.

The dark purple light seemed to seep into their very essence, imbuing them with a sense of unwavering loyalty and dedication to their leader and their cause.

The energy pulsated and crackled, its deep hues painting the scene with a sense of power and mystique.

Shadows danced across the square, their forms distorted by the vortex, as if the very fabric of reality was being reshaped by the summoning ritual.

As the last vestiges of the dark purple light began to fade, the newly summoned skeleton soldiers stood at attention, their eyes glowing with an eerie, violet-tinged radiance.

The summoned skeleton soldiers assembled in the right wing of the palace square, standing tall and proud as a sea of ivory bones glistening under the faint glow of the moonlight.

The contrast between the skeleton militias and the skeleton soldiers was striking, not only in the depth of their souls but also in their physical stature.

Towering above their militia counterparts, the skeleton soldiers boasted an impressive height ranging from 1.8 to 1.9 meters. Their formidable frames exuded an aura of strength and authority, setting them apart as an elite force within Long Su's army.

The skeletal soldiers' bone structure appeared denser and more robust, hinting at a greater capacity for resilience in the face of adversity.

Each soldier was adorned in intricate armor, meticulously crafted to enhance their defense while retaining their agility.

The gleaming purple hue of their souls pulsated through the eye sockets of their helmets, imbuing them with an otherworldly sense of determination and focus.

As they stood at attention, their polished weapons glinted menacingly, a testament to their unwavering preparedness for the battles to come.

The distinction between the skeleton militia and skeleton soldiers extended beyond mere physical attributes, delving into the very essence of their being—their souls.

While the colors of the skeleton slave and militia souls leaned towards a spectral white hue, the soul colors of the skeleton soldiers were dominated by a resplendent shade of purple.

This stark contrast in coloration was not merely an aesthetic divergence; rather, it served as a visual representation of the evolutionary leap that separated these two distinct classes of skeletal warriors.

The sea of white bones parted to reveal the undeniable might of Long Su's undead skeleton soldiers.

Their imposing presence exuded an air of confidence and unwavering loyalty, inspiring awe among all who laid eyes upon them.

Long Su stood with a commanding presence in the palace square, his gaze fixed on the impressive display of his newly summoned skeleton soldiers.

The air was filled with a sense of reverence as the elite skeletal warriors kneeled in unison, their fists pressed against their palms in a solemn salute.

The synchronized movement of bone and armor seemed to resonate with profound respect and loyalty towards their leader, catching Long Su off guard with its unexpected intensity.

As he surveyed the scene before him, Long Su couldn't help but feel a surge of pride at the sight of these formidable warriors.

The engravings on their armor, showcasing the rich cultural heritage of the Daqin civilization, were a testament to their shared history and the indomitable spirit that flowed through their bones.

It was then that the weight of his responsibility truly settled upon his shoulders, the echoes of the past mingling with the present in a harmonious blend of memory and purpose.

A flash of recollection filled his mind's eye, transporting him to a moment from when he was Fu Su

the young prince standing beside his father, Ying Zheng, the first emperor of the Qin Dynasty.

The scene was one of grandeur and power, as the mighty Qin army prepared to embark on a crucial battle.

The tension in the air was palpable—an intoxicating blend of anticipation and apprehension that seemed to fuel the soldiers' determination.

As Long Su revisited this memory, he couldn't help but be struck by the imposing figure of his father, a man whose mere presence commanded fear and respect in equal measure.

Ying Zheng stood tall, his royal majesty emanating from his very being—an undeniable force that seemed to both inspire and intimidate those who surrounded him.

His eyes, filled with unwavering resolve, surveyed the amassed troops with a sense of calculated assurance, as if victory were not merely a possibility but an inevitability.

The rhythmic clatter of armor and weapons punctuated the moment, a symphony of anticipation that underscored the gravity of the occasion.

Long Su could almost feel the weight of the soldiers' conviction, their unwavering dedication to the cause that united them, and the unspoken promise of glory that hung in the air like a banner for all to see.

Just as he was about to command his troops to rise, an unexpected voice rang out from amidst the ranks of the skeleton soldiers.

The words, strong and clear, seemed to carry the weight of history, echoing through the palace square like a declaration of allegiance:

"Long live the Qin Dynasty!

Long live the royal family!

Long live His Highness, Eldest Son Fu Su!"

The proclamation seemed to reverberate through the air, stirring the souls of the assembled warriors and imbuing them with a renewed sense of purpose. As the voice trailed off, Long Su felt a shiver of anticipation run down his spine.

The undeniable connection to his past life, embodied in the words of the mysterious soldier, sent a wave of questions flooding into his mind.