webnovel

Red Sun: Book 1

In a fractured world, where magic stains the soul and war is an eternal tide of blood and steel, the ruins of an imperial dream rise. The Eiyu Empire, once envisioned as the foundation of eternity by Taiko Hideyoshi, has fallen prey to decay. From the ashes of the second Eiyu-Cataya war, a conflict that neither side claims as victory, emerges Ritsu, a youth with an uncertain future, marked by the misery of a discarded class. His only hope shines in the legends, in the whispers of a trial that will grant the fortunate passage to the Forbidden City, the sanctum of power, where imperial reikan and the secrets of shadows intertwine in a deadly dance... In "Shadows of the Empire: Red Sun," there is no clarity in the strife, only the ravenous shadows that dance around power. A power that does not understand justice, but survival, and that weaves its web over the throne of an empire that has forgotten how to dream. It is in this setting of palpable darkness that Ritsu will discover that the true battle is not waged on the bloodied fields, but in the abyss that each being harbors within. And as the pages are consumed, the reader will wonder if it is truly worth emerging victorious in a world where thrones are forged with the lost souls of countless fallen.

Tobyx · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
5 Chs

Prelude

PRELUDE

 

The ink, the promise encrypted in its verses,

Where souls blossom, secrets immersed,

The garden of knowledge, a labyrinth,

Where hearts seek their distinct song.

 

Like birds in flight, on tides of time,

The dreams of sages, like tales without owner,

Rise, they ascend in effort and talent,

For the future hides in their magical breath.

 

"Exams"

Compiled Poems

Lady Hattori Yuriko

 

The room was submerged in a subtle penumbra, bathed by the pale light emanating from an oil lamp. There, in the most secluded corner, a young man named Ritsu plunged into his studies, oblivious to the passage of time.

He had spent hours hunched over a worn wooden table, scrutinizing the frayed scrolls spread before him under the flickering glow of the flame. Memorizing, analyzing, absorbing every drop of wisdom that could catapult him toward his coveted destiny.

For he aspired to far more than a vulgar administrative position, much more than the comfort of a threadbare local official's toga. He aimed at greatness, eager to etch his mark in the annals of history. He fervently wished to honor his mother's last wish; those words whispered on her deathbed so many winters ago:

"Let not my departure be in vain, my son. Follow your dreams wherever they lead."

Since then, he had devoted himself body and soul to his meticulous instruction.

Yet, achieving his dream was no easy feat.

The imperial exams were legendary in difficulty. It was said the tests were designed to break the mind of the brightest aspirant. The empire's officials reveled in constructing labyrinthine riddles, impossible puzzles, and logical tangles to test even the sharpest scholar.

Year after year, waves of young hopefuls approached to face the challenge, armed only with their intellect and a hint of arrogance. Many returned with a distant look and the glint in their eyes dimmed, mere empty shells of the person they had been. Others never returned, consumed by madness and anxiety before the magnitude of the task.

Even among those endowed with a privileged mind, few managed to overcome the tests after years of intense study. Some reached the limits of their strength in the study process, dying of starvation after remaining cloistered for entire months solving enigmas, forgetting to eat and sleep.

Others perished of old age after decades of failed attempts, trapped in a cycle of despair before the iron complexity of the exams. Their last breaths were a bitter lament for a life wasted in pursuit of an impossible chimera.

He was not willing to suffer the same fate.

Ritsu harbored an inner flame that burned too fiercely to be extinguished.

And he was determined to use it to make his way to glory, no matter the cost.

With a sigh of resignation, he moved on to the next scroll of parchment.

He knew there were shortcuts and subterfuges to access the high imperial positions, tortuous paths laden with bribes, intrigues, and dark machinations. Paths that only a few privileged could walk, those with enough gold and power to bend the empire's rusted hinges to their will.

But he was not one of them.

Moreover, he would never tarnish his mother's legacy by resorting to such stratagems. He still remembered her advice, resonating from the depths of his conscience, nourishing his moral compass: "Do not stray onto the path of immorality, my son."

He would not fail her; he was determined to face the challenges with integrity and honor, just as she would have wanted.

However, swimming against the current of the Golden City, with its overwhelming magnitude and omnipresent corruption, was a monumental enterprise. The embrace of the metropolis was suffocating, as if a vicious urban titan loomed over him, trying to smother him along with his ideals.

Integrity and honor were his allies in that fight, but the price of staying true to his principles was high in a place where morality often gave way to the thirst for power and wealth.

The deafening roar of the city was a perpetual reminder of it.

In its bustling streets, merchants and buyers competed in shrill voices, deceiving unsuspecting visitors with tricks and devices. Beggars, with hands torn by hardship, extended their palms in search of relief, while false soothsayers and shaman promised mystical revelations to the gullible.

In the midst of that whirlwind, horses and carts rattled the streets with constant clatter, and riders on their mounts, armed with red bamboo rods, bellowed at pedestrians to get out of their way.

It was a boiling cauldron of opportunities for dishonesty and cunning, where integrity faded into the shadows of ambition. Amidst that unceasing hubbub, Tianxiá stood as a city of light and shadows, shining with the vitality and venom that only such a vast city could harbor.

The only glimpse of order amidst the chaos was maintained by the omnipresent Three-Legged Frog Guards, imposing sentinels with black whips in hand. They lined up at critical city crossroads, and their mere presence kept disorder at bay. They did not hesitate to use those whips to restore discipline, especially at nightfall when anarchy often descended upon the city.

But not even they could fully contain the chaos that reigned on the streets of the Outer City. At all hours, squares were filled with crowds eager to witness the executions of wrongdoers and the unfortunate, as if it were the only entertainment that briefly took them out of their own misery.

Ritsu had absorbed, observed, and scented all these elements of daily life. He had internalized the cacophony and chaos; they no longer amazed him. Instead, he carried them as a perpetual weight, a burden that would have driven anyone mad who was not prepared for it.

He had adapted to the city, making it part of himself, and that made him exceptionally strong in a place where many would have succumbed.

He had even come to appreciate certain "beautiful" aspects of life in the Golden City. The seasons that unfolded like an eternal cycle: cherry blossoms that painted the parks pink, varied fruits offering their colors, silk leaves falling like melancholic whispers, and the yellowish dust that was dragged by the winds from the remote deserts of the Wildlands, the dust of the world that covered everything beyond the Great Wall.

They were flashes of beauty amid anarchy.

He took his eyes off the books for a few seconds and looked at the ceiling of his room. He had come to the city out of duty, the obligation to continue his preparation for the imperial exams and to relay the news of his mother's death to his aunt.

Since then, time had flown by, almost unnoticed.

His reflections didn't last long, as a thunderous shout jolted him from his thoughts. Ritsu glanced at the dilapidated wooden door to his room, then from the floor below, an enraged woman raised her voice to her daughter with an intensity that made clear they were not going through a pleasant moment.

"Miyako, I told you we need more salt in the soup! How can you make the same mistake again and again?"

Ritsu smiled, stored the books in one of the old drawers of his humble wooden desk, and stood up from the chair. He decided it was a good time for a break. Then he went downstairs, where the aroma of cooking food permeated the air as he approached the kitchen.

"I don't like cooking, Mom! I always have to make dinner, and it's boring. Why can't we just buy food from old Hachiro?" His cousin, Miyako, replied in an offended tone.

"Miyako, you must learn. You never know when it will be necessary. Plus, it is a way to take care of the family. Now, try it again, and make sure the soup has enough salt this time!"

Ritsu stood silently on the stairs, watching the scene with a hint of appreciation. His family was the anchor that kept him steady amidst the tumultuous tide of the city. Since his mother's death, they were all he had left.

At that moment, his aunt noticed him and hurried towards him. She was a robust woman, with short hair and no pretensions of beauty. However, her nobility and affection were undeniable.

When she reached him, she tenderly caressed his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, honey. Did we bother you with our noise?"

Though he shook his head, his aunt seemed to overlook his response and returned to the kitchen, where Miyako still looked grumpy.

The woman directed a serious glance at her daughter.

"Look what you caused, Miyako! Your cousin is here to study, and your complaints distracted him. You must learn to cook and to take care of the house as a family member. He needs peace to prepare for his exams."

Ritsu looked at his cousin apprehensively, his hand nervously searching for his neck as a timid gesture of apology.

Miyako, five years younger than him, was the living image of the natural grace that her mother lacked. Her hair, a cascade of deep navy blue as profound as the darkest oceans, flowed in undulating and silky tides over her shoulders. Her eyes, brown as wood, shone with the intensity of a controlled fire.

Their gazes met, and Miyako, clearly annoyed, snatched the ladle from the soup cauldron with an exasperated sigh.

"And why doesn't he ever cook?" she protested. "It's always me who has to do it. It's unfair."

Without warning, her mother gave her a soft tap on the head.

"Don't be silly, Miyako. You know that Ritsu has a bright future ahead of him."

Miyako shot a look of disbelief at her mother.

"Mom!" She touched her head, grumbling. "You say that just because he's a boy and I'm a girl."

In some ways, Miyako was right. In Eiyu, peasant women weren't even allowed to aspire to sit for the exam. The positions destined for courtesans were a precious and elusive treasure, reserved only for those with the privilege of birth and the favor of the high echelons.

Ritsu longed for the day when he would finally pass the imperial exams and leave behind the Outer City. In his dreams, he saw a future where he could change his cousin's fate, pave the way for her toward an honorable husband, perhaps a soldier or an upright official.

He envisioned Miyako walking through the Inner Walls, spending her days planting flowers and nurturing a small garden. Aging next to the serenity of falling wisteria, watching golden carps swimming in jade ponds, without worries to disturb her spirit. That future full of promises had not yet come for them, but at least he could enjoy a fun moment with his cousin.

He smiled, giving her a playful look, then stuck out his tongue comically before starting a quick dash to the living room.

Miyako, with a peeved expression, chased him at full speed.

"You jerk!"

Their aunt, alarmed by the noise and chaos, tried to stop them.

"Kids, calm down! I don't want to see more fighting in my kitchen! Ritsu, sit down and stop bothering your cousin. Miyako, don't chase him with the ladle!"