At that moment, an eerie silence seized the surroundings as time seemingly froze. Bewildered disbelief was etched upon everyone’s faces, their thoughts seemingly brought to a halt, incapable of predicting what was to come.
The “Double Lotus”, an ancient and graceful rifle brimming with arcane enchantments, gleamed with successive lights forming a gorgeous, near-supernatural double-petal flower, pristine white in the inner layer, and vivid red like spilled blood outside. A subtle glow of primal force emitted from the barrel as a slow-moving primal bullet floated forward, heading directly toward the forehead of Lu Shenjiang – fixing his horrified expression into one of eternal astonishment.
The radiant fusion of crimson and white burst into bloom before them.
“This time, I really should be going.” Qianye holstered the weapon with nonchalance, giving a simple nod toward Ji Yuangia before turning to leave.
Even Ji Yuangia, taken aback, asked hesitantly, “You… truly killed him?”
“A man like him deserves death twice over. I never jest with my words.” Qianye replied coldly.
Ji Yuangia sighed then nodded decisively, following behind Qianye’s retreating figure. Keeping a slight half-length distance from his companion, a blade slightly over half a chi gleamed in his right hand, humming quietly as if answering his latent will.
As Jai Yuania crossed over the threshold, his gaze lingered behind. Eyes met calmly with that of Ye Mula’s, who stood above atop the stairways restored to her poised aloof magnificence, although her face remained strangely stiff like a mask frozen mid-thought. With that silence broken and purpose renewed, Ji strode away boldly, while all the while, Qianye didn’t glance back even once.
The youths that had recently come running to the scene became stricken still as mere statues watching both disappear in the distance. Then they only regained composure when the roaring jeep finally vanished entirely — breaking stillness into shrieks and panic-struck exclamations.
The voice of Ye Mula rang through the air, ice-shed and bitter, “Dare this low-born dare openly assassinate a member of the noble clans? I shall see retribution for this disgrace!”
The gathered cluster of noble-born individuals loudly seconded her, albeit with faces deathly pale and filled with foreboding. The iron-wounded display Ji Yuangia showed when pulling away spoke ominously of the outcome — one where a clash seemed increasingly unpreventable.
Such blood-tinged conflicts echoed in nearly every nook and corner throughout the realm, with the most ruthless, efficient response typically being to strike down one’s enemy before the final syllable of threat is even released. As for seeking justice within the judicial systems and rules established by the governing bodies… well, such processes could take decades, often offering no definitive answer at the end of the scroll. The harsh truth, however, was that in the gaze of mighty rulers and aristocrats, clan-borne nobility, lowborn aspirants, and common citizenry rarely enjoyed any real distinction—unique individuals capable change were few as falling stars at midnight.
Returning home by caravan, Ji Yaunghia spoke at last after moments of shared hush.
“Forgive me.”
“Do not say that…”
“No—I will say it, for courage was scarce at that fated moment.” Not daring to stand defiantly beside or against Ye Mula, not offering support to Qainye until forced pushed him onto the dueling ring by external forces. For his opponent had arrived foreplanned and overequipped with level, skills, even his arms chosen for the fight with surgical precision. If ever Qainye hadn’t exceeded every conceivable limit of battlefield prowess as myth rather than mortal… the name of the fallen could as easily be ‘Yaunye’ himself instead.
Calmly, Qainye patted Jai’s shoulder with a reassuring chuckle. “Do not fear—I have what I need now because I had nothing. But for someone like you—whose family yet draws another’s breath? That’s where the lines shift.”
With an extended sigh, filled with anger not yet quelled inside,
“All these damned noble clans!”
With his usual indifferent tone,
“I don’t see things that way.”
Thinking suddenly, Ji asked cautiously:
“Then… what of that Count?”
“That’s simple – I hunted an offshoot heir of Count Rousse, Blood Clan aristocrat. Those pistols? His former trophies. Stolen straight through him, so of course the vampire Count would send out pursuers once he learned.”
Ji inhaled sharply:
”You killed a bloodline of Rousse?! By gods – what madness—The vampire lived a millennium! Yet his domain rests distant in Dark Blood Reach—perhaps that much is in our favor, for now.”
“Well then,” Qianye stated clearly, “Rather than seek to sell my finds… I plan to make use of the pair. They’ve proved pleasant partners tonight, ancient though they be.”
Stunned beyond belief,
“You are insane… This is open provocation to a Vampire Duke himself!!”
Qianye corrected with final certainty.
“Perhaps this moment holds clarity I’ve never known before.”
Helplessly, Ji pondered the implications of such choices. Even for warriors of moderate strength, facing Counts might be suicidal—but for Qianye to do so openly upon Vernal Darkness continent where man mingled, coexists within an unbroken dance of war and fragile trade routes between human and night-folk… The line remained ever thin between ally and foe when war profiteers were so easily bought over… and blood-fortunes placed upon heads as casually as trading silver chits.
“So – what now?” asked Ji
“My intention remains as clear, I move to the 131st company at the forward camp to prepare a working bond before advancing toward the Dark Clans.”
“Your evaluation requires earning scores, does it?” Ji murmured dryly
“There, scores follow war.”
Furrowing his brow,
“This place sees far fiercer battles with darker clans. Compared to P’an-Shi lands, the enemy is fiercer.”
Yet, Qianye’s voice showed undisturbed calm, even amusement.
“Facing foes directly always preferable to waiting for a treacherous blade.”
“I know that belief… is too naïve.” He stated, “Being forward doesn’t guarantee safety. You’re not strong enough yet—the frontlines hold foes greater by measure. Not bound to fair duels or battlefield honors. In fact, Lady Qiqi planned specifically for you to reach rank five before engaging front-line duties.”
Then Qianye offered:
“Combat is not a mere duel—Men unfit win battle, even if unable to claim victory in fair clash.”
Ji thought, then exhaled once more:
“Alright then. Promise caution – scout thoroughly, plan retreat before advance—be ready.”
Also:
“If embarking something large and bold… come to me. I might arrange assistance.”
“Wait,” Qianye asked, surprise touching his gaze for a brief second.
“Didn’t the Lady already supply you with one reinforced platoon from her initial regiment of a hundred soldiers?”
Understanding his friend’s question,
“Yes—but the seventeenth Corps battalion was simply part of Yin family’s official examination resources—a conventional force assigned equally across the test.”
“What of Lady Qiqi’s private army?” Ji grinned knowingly
“She assigned recruitment oversight to me—it numbers near one thousand warriors.”
“All trained and ready. They may soon fight by you as fully armed battle groups at need.”
Grateful for loyalty and prepared alliance, Qianye said simply yet with conviction:
“Thank you. When necessity strikes —I will seek you.”
—
Back in the secluded courtyards of the Yin estate grounds, he packed and reviewed weaponry. The destination: the 131st reinforced infantry, several hundred k’le in distance—a border settlement on the blood-rain-soiled frontline facing darkness’s creatures.
As the process continued within quiet chambers — QiQi stepped directly into his quarters unannounced, without knock nor call.
She surveyed half-prepared bags:
“Quick to seek war already?”
“I prefer to arrive swiftly, so I may adapt faster to their ways.”
QiQi turned her interest to the vampire’s matched pistols, testing their weight casually within idle fingers. Speaking:
“I heard the rumors. Your performance in the square suited me quite.”
Yet a smirk returned, “Though… one regret lingers. You forgot a certain lady in silver—Ye Mulu.”
She pointed both twin barrels at an oil painted depiction from long-buried battles — one where vampires roared like devils. Mock-aiming precisely.
“That harlot’s worse than that silver-tongued fox, Son Tzning!” With obvious disgust.
Qianye hesitated momentarily. Did that name ring any bells?
Was there a figure in death-mirage’s river town—Somewhere beneath the yellow veil of the underworld—where those exact names and shadows had briefly merged into some half-forgotten ghostly memory?
Before he could dwell further:
“You mean slaying her might provoke unwanted attention?” He offered.
Unconcerned:
“A trifle! Indeed, no matter—trials will not grow fewer nor heavier for this act alone.”
“In my world—when she falls, Son House merely needs select anew for Tzning’s choice. They’ll demand accountability simply for formality…”
Then Qianye spoke humbly:
“My duel—was hard-won victory enough. I doubt I could kill her outright… her secret technique remains a dangerous threat.”
His candour provoked her.
“Ugh.” she sneered but clearly entertained “Well, perhaps I’ll need these pair for another purpose? Hmn—might I be… borrowing these beauties?”
“No. My need outweighed your curiosity.” He returned.
“SUCH audacity! Provocative enough even for a vampire aristocrat.”
“Then let him try,” he answered unyielding, “If he comes.”
At the gesture, at such quiet, unshaken determination—She laid the guns gently upon silken bedding, amused:
“You’re bolder than imagination allows. Then stay bold—but do not die. Do live… or where shall I find so exquisite a young paramour next?”
The following day transported Qianye upon QiQi’s personal airship toward the intended frontline. Ji in escort.
Mid flight, an ever-pervasive question long stirring took voice:
“Why do families like Yin’s or Song’s marry from common noble clans?” He questioned the pair beside him.
To which Ji replied slowly,
“A process of talent acquisition—a bid to keep ancient noble lines flowing fresh.”
Within noble houses are selected children, mostly from near-extended branches, pre-chosen for noble marriage alliances. Regardless male or female, such arrangements bring noble-born into aristocrat family lineages. Eventually — the Gulsin or Yen Mulu types would become Yin heirs themselves.
The noble clans only grant such privileges in rare circumstances—a chance for those of high potential. Should youth ascend fully to become Yin, the favor trickles down to nurture their original clan in ways—this is how nobility climbs to grand heights. Likewise, the aristocracy’s continued supremacy over such channels remains guaranteed by these cycles.
Long ago, both she—Qiqi—and that Son heir—were picked at youth by ancestral decrees—generally during childhood’s initial cultivation years between six to eight. Through trials of hidden strength and noble background assessments, the future marriages were planned.
They represented the borderline heirs—sitting near core but not entirely entangled in primacy—hence deemed safe selections without risking main-line purity.
Though in their case, few exceptions arose. Against all planning—both grew strong with age and importance in the family. Hence—the pressure and importance of their union became more than originally planned.
Understanding now—Qianye questioned softly:
“How come their initial tests erred so grossly—especially in top-tier families with the most sophisticated predictive models?”
But upon hearing the query, seeing the look Ji made… The meaning became self-evident.
There—within Song or Yin’s ancestral chambers… numerous internal agendas must’ve played in pushing for that very bond to endure. Despite QiQi’s personal hatred, the family maintained its claim until she was forced to find extreme method to force Gul’s withdrawal. Unfortunately, Qianye — caught in her gambit — ended up being drawn fully into a role far worse than any originally planned when she selected him onto that task. He only did his work well and overachieved beyond expectations — unintentionally throwing the matchmaking web into chaos.
Hours later saw slow descent onto Zhong Ying town in the distance. Once airborne giants of steel, now silent engines lowered onto ground of this several-thousand population outpost — built around one precious source of livelihood: A blackstone mine hidden in distant cliffs. The people — their lives revolved around mining veins in that dark land.
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