Invincible: I Level Up In My Sleep

The Ironcliff Royal Court

The grand doors of the throne room, which had been stained with the blood of corrupt guards only a day prior, were thrown wide open. The morning sun streamed into the hall, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air and catching the sharp gleam of polished iron.

Yan Zheng strode down the central carpet, his steps steady and resonant.

He was no longer wearing the oversized, heavy royal robes of his predecessor. Instead, he wore the Sovereign’s War-Armor. Under the passive influence of the Dread Veil, the legendary artifact looked to the naked eye like a simple, well-fitted dark silver tunic with supple leather bracers. The terrifying, mountain-crushing physical weight he possessed was completely masked, making him look like a refined, remarkably healthy young nobleman.

He took his seat on the high-backed black stone throne.

Unlike his first day in this world, there was no dizziness, no trembling, and no weakness. He sat with his back perfectly straight, resting his forearms on the stone armrests.

Standing in two neat rows along the sides of the hall were the remaining court officials, low-tier administrative ministers, and the senior captains of the city guard. They all stood with their heads bowed so low their chins touched their chests, their knees trembling.

The news from the Black Wolf Pass had reached the city hours before the army returned. A force of ten thousand tribal warriors completely obliterated in a single morning by a "trash prince" and three hundred guards who didn't even sustain a single casualty—it was a tale so absurd that if any other kingdom had claimed it, it would have been laughed out of the continent. But the scorched valleys and the towering pile of armor being cataloged in the courtyard outside were undeniable proof.

At the front of the hall stood Fan Changyu. Her armor was spotless, her high ponytail tied tightly, and her sharp eyes swept across the nervous officials like an eagle hunting rabbits.

"Your Highness," an elderly minister in gray robes stepped forward, his voice shaking as he dropped to both knees. "The records of the late Prime Minister Zhao's estate have been fully compiled. We discovered secret ledgers showing he had embezzled over forty thousand gold coins from the eastern granary reserves over the last three years. The gold has been seized and returned to the royal treasury."

"Forty thousand gold coins," Yan Zheng repeated smoothly, his voice carrying a calm, flat tone that made the minister’s spine turn to ice. "And while he was hoarding forty thousand gold coins, the border guards were using rusted spears and the eastern villages were starving during the winter blizzards."

"Mercy, Your Highness! We... we were blind to his treachery!" a dozen minor officials threw themselves to the floor in unison, terrified of being thrown out of the stained-glass window like their former master.

"Stand up," Yan Zheng ordered.

The officials scrambled to their feet, wiping the cold sweat from their brows.

"I am not interested in a historic purge," Yan Zheng rumbled, his dark eyes locking onto each of them. "Ironcliff is a border kingdom. We are surrounded by empires who want to tear us apart. If I execute all of you, the administration collapses, and the citizens suffer. You will keep your heads, but your properties, your estates, and your personal funds are hereby confiscated by the crown. You will receive a standard soldier's stipend. If I catch a single coin missing from the state registers moving forward... your entire lineage will be erased. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Your Highness! Long live the King!" They bowed frantically, their hearts bursting with a mixture of profound terror and relief. They had lost their wealth, but they had kept their lives.

Yan Zheng ignored their groveling and turned his gaze to the floating translucent blueprint in his peripheral vision.

Sovereign Domain Interface Active

Bound Territory: Ironcliff City (Tier 1 Town)

Population: 45,000 Mortals

Defensive Status: Vulnerable (Walls damaged, Leyline Arrays offline)

Passive Resource Generation: 10 Silver Coins / Hour (Based on current commerce and stability)

Automated Shadow-Guard Garrison: 0/4 Units Allocated

System, allocate four Shadow-Guards to the automated garrison, Yan Zheng commanded internally. Task: Perimeter stealth patrolling and high-priority internal security.

Deep beneath the stone floor of the throne room, four of his eight active Shadow Vanguards sank into the earth, their consciousness tethered directly to the city’s geographic boundaries. They would now act as an invisible, omnipresent network of eyes and ears, alerting Yan Zheng to any internal espionage, riots, or incoming external threats within a five-kilometer radius.

"Changyu," Yan Zheng called out.

"Your Highness!" She stepped forward, hitting her fist against her chestplate.

"Take twenty thousand gold coins from the seized treasury. Distribute five thousand directly to the families of the soldiers who marched to the pass. Use the remaining fifteen thousand to purchase high-grade steel, spiritual charcoal, and winter grains from the neutral traveling merchant caravans. I want the city walls reinforced and the forge fires running twenty-four hours a day."

"Understood!" Fan Changyu's eyes shone with pride. Yan Zheng wasn't just a powerful warrior; he was organizing the kingdom’s logistics with the cold, calculated efficiency of an emperor.

"The rest of you are dismissed," Yan Zheng waved his hand. "The court is adjourned."

As the ministers bowed and hurried out of the hall as if escaping a dragon’s den, Fan Changyu remained behind, waiting until the heavy oak doors were firmly shut.

"Your Highness," she spoke softly, stepping closer to the base of the throne. "There is one more matter. While clearing Chieftain Ba Yan's corpse, we found an official transit token from the Silver-Frost Grand Sect hidden inside his spatial ring."

Yan Zheng’s eyes narrowed slightly. "The Silver-Frost Grand Sect? The tier-2 cultivation sect that controls the neighboring Overlord Empire?"

"Yes," Fan Changyu’s expression turned deeply serious. "The token contains a localized message array. It seems the sect’s third elder was the one who promised Ba Yan the defensive talismans and resources to invade us. They wanted to use the Iron-Blood Tribe to test whether the late King truly left a defensive inheritance before they moved their own disciples in to annex our mineral mines."

A dark, amused smile played on Yan Zheng’s lips. He turned the silver ring on his finger, his gaze drifting toward the high ceiling.

"So, the wolves were just the hunting dogs of a larger master," Yan Zheng murmured. "They think Ironcliff is a piece of meat waiting to be carved."

He closed his eyes halfway, checking his system status. The daily cooldown for the Crucible was already ticking down, and he had a whole new set of dungeon floors to conquer tonight.

"Let them scheme, Changyu," Yan Zheng rumbled softly, his voice echoing in the empty hall with an immovable confidence. "Tell the scouts to maintain a standard defensive perimeter. If the Silver-Frost Sect wants to play a game of chess using our kingdom as the board... I will make sure their elders are the first pieces to be wiped off the table.”