The Almighty Dominance (by Sunshine) novel Chapter 652

The same day the capital of Yan Province fell, the Wudang machine kept moving.

Inside Tianyuan City and across the eight smaller towns, ten thousand disciples and ten thousand drones went to work with clinical precision. Gaia’s silver bands—slim, almost weightless strips of nano-tech fused with ancient concealment arrays—were handed out one by one. Not to every civilian. The supply was still limited. But every headman, every village elder, every city official, every clerk in the tax offices and granaries received one. The moment the band touched skin it bonded, invisible to ordinary eyes, feeding live vision and sound straight back to Mother AI in Qingshui.

Control without occupation.

The handful of die-hard loyalists—minor officers, Liu Dai’s personal spies, and their immediate families—were rounded up quietly. Drones lifted them into the sky in neat harnesses and flew them south under heavy sedation. They would wake up in Qingshui as laborers.

While the disciples handled the province, Liu Piao and the senior elders paid personal visits to every major sect and clan still standing in Yan. Orthodox or unorthodox, it didn’t matter. They arrived with respect, white robes clean, swords sheathed, and spoke the same simple truth:

“Liu Dai has lost the province. Your families are safe. Your lands are safe. Stay out of this war and no one will touch you. Join him and you will burn with him.”

No one argued. Not after they saw ten thousand Wudang disciples.

Back in Qingshui, Alex stood in the main hall of the city lord’s mansion with every literate official he could find.

Zhuge Liang moved among them like a general directing troops.

“Four thousand leaflets,” Alex said. “Now. Plain language. No flowery nonsense. Write fast.”

Desks were dragged in. Ink stones ground. Brushes flew. Within two hours the hall looked like a paper factory. Stacks of fresh sheets covered every surface. The message was brutally simple, written in the common script every soldier could read:

TO ALL YAN PROVINCE SOLDIERS

Return home now.

Go back to your families, your fields, your old lives.

Liu Dai has lost the province.

Your wives, your parents, your children are in Yan Province.

If you keep following him, they will be taken as slaves or killed.

Return now.

No punishment for those who lay down their weapons.

Alex didn’t wait for the ink to dry. The moment the first thousand sheets were ready, returning drones were loaded and launched north again.

Liu Dai’s thirty-five thousand men were still camped outside Qingyang, finishing the last of their two-day preparations. Wagons groaned under sacks of grain. Officers shouted orders. Horses stamped and snorted in the dust.

Then the sky changed.

A low, steady drone filled the air. Hundreds of sleek black shapes appeared overhead in perfect formation, sunlight glinting off their wings. Soldiers looked up, hands shading their eyes, spears half-raised.

The drones opened their underbelly bays.

Hundreds of thousands of white papers exploded outward like snow in a blizzard. They swirled, caught the wind, and drifted down across the entire camp in a silent storm.

Men caught the sheets mid-air. Others plucked them off the ground. Officers snatched copies from their soldiers’ hands.

Silence spread like spilled oil.

A sergeant near the center of the camp read the words aloud, voice cracking. Another man read it again, louder. Then another. Within minutes the entire army was reading the same message out loud, voices overlapping in growing confusion.

Sect disciples. Clan captains. Company commanders. Every one of them had family back in Yan Province—wives, children, aging parents, younger siblings. The province they had left behind to follow Liu Dai was now in Bai Xiaochun’s hands.

The papers kept falling. Thousands upon thousands of them. A sea of white covering armor, tents, supply wagons, and the dusty ground between.

Soldiers looked at one another.

No one spoke at first. The only sound was the rustle of paper and the nervous shifting of boots.

Then the whispers started.

“He’s lost everything…”

“My wife is in Luyang…”

“If we keep marching south, they’ll make her a slave…”

A Foundation Establishment elder from the Mount Tai sect stared at the paper in his trembling hand. His face had gone gray. He had three daughters and an elderly mother waiting in the capital.

Across the camp, the same realization hit captain after captain, elder after elder. Liu Dai no longer controlled their homes. He no longer controlled their future.

In the governor’s mansion, an advisor burst through the doors of the war hall holding one of the leaflets. His hands shook as he passed it to Liu Dai.

The governor read it once. Then again. His face turned the color of old bone.

Rage exploded out of him like a physical force.

Liu Dai slammed both fists onto the war table so hard the heavy oak split down the middle.

“It’s a lie!” he roared, face purple with rage. “All of it! Enemy propaganda! Bai Xiaochun is desperate. Yan Province is still ours. The capital is secure. Our families are safe. Tell every soldier—anyone who believes this filth is a traitor!”

The advisor’s face turned pale. “But it will be hard to cover the truth...”

“Silence!” Liu Dai roared. “Whoever dares to run will be killed on the spot! Tell every officer — kill the deserters! I don’t care if they’re sect disciples or clan heirs! No mercy!”

His advisors scrambled to obey. Officers were pulled aside in every corner of the vast camp. Captains and elders climbed onto wagons and shouted the same message until their throats bled.

“Fake papers!” they bellowed. “Our Governor Liu Dai still controls every city in Yan Province! The enemy is trying to break your spirit. Stay loyal. Your families are protected. Anyone caught spreading these lies will be executed on the spot!”

For the first hour the soldiers stood in uneasy clusters, leaflets still clutched in their hands. Some nodded. Some wanted to believe.

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