Following the single gunshot, Qian Ye did not launch another assault, nor did the caravan continue moving forward. This caravan was originally set as bait to lure Qian Ye into appearance. Yet to everyone’s surprise, Qian Ye opened fire from a distance of nearly a thousand meters, felling Vice-Captain Du Yufeng with one decisive shot. With its ambush compromised, the necessity of continuation became void.
The caravan immediately altered course on site without hesitation and hurried back toward Listening Tide City. Accompanying city guards and mercenaries did not dispatch scouts in search of Qian Ye nor maintained outer sentries—the entire assembly sped away, hastening their return to the city as if chased by phantoms.
Their captain knew well: that lone shot must have cost tremendous energy from Qian Ye. This was likely not an act of mercy but a need for conservation. They had to run swiftly—if they delayed, once Qian Ye regained his vigor, none would escape at all.
The convoy long vanished when Qian Ye opened his eyes slowly to examine the surroundings, nodding internally. He thought highly of the opposing commander’s acumen who practically left no room for opportunity. As for the Tier-Sixteen adept, on one hand displaying his aura ostentatiously, seated openly inside an armored wagon, emitting his presence like a brilliant torch in darkness; though others may be blind or oblivious, to Qian Ye’s vision of true sight, that presence was as bright, revealing all across the vast distance.
He meditated for a short further time until partially restored with strength, then turned away quietly and vanished into the wilderness.
Within Listening Tide, all was silent tension. The city fell under an icy hush, pedestrians upon the streets few and hurried, carrying visible signs of worry in their eyes.
The grim news of Du Yufeng’s death could not be kept hidden and soon reached the populace, shattering every semblance of hope harbored across merchant lines who initially had thoughts of arranging for an elaborate armed protection force. After all, even Du Yufeng had fallen in one shot—those warriors they might find couldn’t hope to surpass that strength.
Du Yufeng, as second-in-command among the guards and himself an adept of Tier Sixteen, was far above common proficiency in techniques. The senior general in Listening Tide received battle disciplines granted personally by Luo Bingfeng—consequently, all exceeded normal powers in comparable ranks. Since Du’s practice held advantage over Zhu Meng’s own arts, the two stood in open opposition to command.
Such a momentous event summoned all high ranking elites and critical personages across Listening Tide toward the city governor’s hall—a single, unified gathering for deliberation. Although primarily a place of council where its governor now seldom lived—it having been many years since Luo Bingfeng made it residence.
In that main assembly where the central table hosted around ten while more sat nearby, over twenty in sum with access to critical counsel sat around them.
The central table displayed two seats, both vacant—one of course for Governor Luo while the other held only mysteries; though the strange lady had appeared and remained, even now her nature, origins, and name remained unfathomed by anyone despite being ever-present in their midst since before.
Next in importance to that central place was a pale, beardless, slightly overweight middle-aged man seated among honored upper tier members in the front. Seeming dully sleepy in nature with narrow eyes nearly always closed. But when those eyes did open slightly, glances of lightning crossed them.
Known throughout as Da Tongling, he acted as head guard commander of Listening Tide. However, this chief commander seldom meddled directly with routine duties and had long retreated into near isolation, engaging actively just once every half month or so. Effectively then, true operational command rested across three lieutenants and the formidable forces of Zhu Meng.
Yet in spite of his near-absent presence and seeming detachment towards power, Du Yu remained acknowledged as the city guards unrivaled martial master—under only their Lord of the Tide. Hence all hardened officers under him sat rigid and alert—unlike ordinary displays.
Opposite stood his natural adversarial presence; an icy, stoic old man named Rui Xiang sat across the long table—silent but filled with disdain hidden just barely beneath calm expressions in his quiet, dignified stillness.
Where Ruxiang led sat fewer indeed, half indeed the full opposite array—yet between the camps tension flared and met, forming two factions.
At length, a strong military commander within the city garrison with eyes like lightning surveyed each seated presence until resting upon Zhu Meng with a cold inquiry,
“From a distance over a thousand meters that enemy brought down Yu Fei —such capability suggests only top-notch firearms could grant him this edge. It is whispered too that it was precisely such an ability which cost General Mazi as well, Zhu Meng—yet you did not share! This is information worth its weight in martial gold!”
The question rang with a clear note of condemnation heavy in intent. He was one of the three sub-commanders, his status actually even above the recently slain man, Du Yu Feng. The inquiry seemingly forceful was also calculated for reasons—Zhume, of course being allied with Duyu’s own faction.
With little change over his features, Zhu Meng explained simply,
“I merely bore witness and didn’t experience directly. The nature of that rifle’s power wasn’t truly clear in my estimation. I understand Mazi well, however. When the event happened he made not attempt to defend, but assumed protection would intercept—trusting fate too lightly he failed.”
The commander frowned as blades might,
“You mean someone blocked the bullet then? Speak plainly—conceal nothing less we bring judgment.”
Calm, yet steady came Meng again,
“At that time, that assailant aimed for Elder Rui. Mazi just chanced to be hit because the old man dodged quickly enough. So—should anyone have clear judgment upon the rifle power demonstrated here; perhaps it’s only fitting it rests in Rui himself.”
The garrison commanders turned puzzled looks between one other—at this admission a look bordering on open contempt forming even within men simpler to understand. By Zhu’s statement they saw cowardice plain.
Cold fire sparked across old Ruxing’s face—long fingers stroking silver beards slowly,
“Such unexpected events carry little prior warning—myself evaded through instinct alone. The exact power of its strike—I myself didn’t measure in contact. It seems unbecoming to make judgments in haste.”
Yet then, a general whose friendship to Mazi long held firm shouted his rising fury at such a statement:
“How could distance mean nothing if at a thousand meters the bullet still killed him! Do we not evaluate threat here? Had you given proper report—General Du would never had met his fate so easily!”
A single cold chuckle cut back in old Ruxian’s voice,
“That’s merely the loss suffered from an unexceptional officer—what do these details count for? I did not judge the occasion worthy the effort of report… nor did you ever seem entitled.”
Face reddened to the point of purple from rage at Zhu Meng’s end—yet Ruxiang’s statement essentially dismissed them all entirely—as it had been, was it otherwise true?
Glances around now fell heavily back onto Duyu who had sat unmoving.
Only through presence and prowess might he match old Ruxiang’s weight within this gathering.
A mere slit open of Dou Yu’s eyes illuminated the hall anew, as the old scholar’s pressure cooled—no forward move dared.
The Chief remained calm as he turned toward Zhu Meng,
“You know Yu Fei was my brother by blood—the same blood I carry through a younger Uncle passed far too young, he had little left in form… While I was known as impartial between command posts when matters arose—you’ll confirm this, Zhu Men’ ge?”
Eyes lowered Meng gave solemn answer:
“Indeed, the Leader’s reputation in matters fair and impartial remains common knowledge to all soldiers. You have no preference for your kin.”
Du Yu inclined slowly in gratitude before querying,
“Then the query stands—why withhold Qian Ye’s full strength details with others? You had your reasons perhaps.”
“I meant at first to personally bring news unto the Grand Administrator directly—the day I first returned to report,” Zhu Meng responded,
“At that early moment though, I found my access to Governor denied—held in seclusion, his absence absolute despite multiple requests via our administrator LouYun.”
He continued then,
“There were many questions then, many pieces not fully understood yet. Thus I failed. Meanwhile it just happened General Yu Fei set out on this fatal march… I carry a weight in all things… But tell me, how can one man explain what one himself cannot grasp fully at the time?”
Du Yu’s brow creased thoughtfully before he finally spoke gently but with great finality,
“That seems fair in its merit… but now I ask—you said internal reason prompted the urgency. Why the need in all those doubts for direct access to Governor only and not your brothers here? Could we not all be trusted with that knowledge?”
For moments, hesitation passed across Zhu’s broad brow—a glance toward Ruxiang flicking between them.
Yet in those silent seconds, it had confirmed everything unspoken. And Ruxian’s expression remained impassively chilling.
Duyu broke in firmly with measured calm,
“None should live under shadowed truths or fear. Our grand administrator long withdrawn, and though difficult even Louyung, our steward faces barriers too—none question the isolation that cloaks him from all who seek.
“But courage remains within each of us, so Zhu Meng—you can speak. No need holding back.”
Rising suddenly, Zhu Meng proclaimed with clarity:
“Yes… With the Leader’s backing I can dare this truth. At the outset, I led forces into battle, when this foe invaded the base. One stroke of strength took 300 fine brothers from us at ease!
“That very force then eliminated generals Mazi and Yu Fei—yet for his pity in allowing us survival when seeing we were essentially sacrificed… only through kindness did I live—my men too.”
Mention of this drew immediate gasps and alarm—every leader understood exactly whom Zhu’s division represented—their strength, well respected, and even DuYu himself could scarcely achieve such destruction in single motion.
There has existed, for neutral ground and its customs, an unbreakable consensus. For any adept of such heights, unless required by absolute war or judgment of law, normally avoid clashes against mere common soldiers; slaughter is strictly against accepted standards and taboo.
After all, should power shift upon our fair city’s walls—if our current forces become tomorrow’s soldiers, does one not strike the ranks of their future army?
Zhu raised the voice further:
“He had words—a message for Governor, an edict unto all of you within Listening Tide—he declared: ‘Should he not see his comrades restored freely—none of our ranks stepping beyond these walls remains safe anymore! Until the day those he claims freed return unbound, wheresoever they may go—I, he will strike you!’
“‘If the lives are broken past redemption’—his last command—he would mark every noble of this fortress to death without mercy in pursuit eternal—’No high place shall guard their hearts forever more!’”
Shouts of outrage filled the chamber with accusations like:
“Madness!”
“Presumption beyond measure!”
“We must send warning of their insolence!”
After an eruption of rage from several lower ranking generals, a stark contrast soon revealed itself with the continued stillness of their superiors—Da Tongling; Zhu Meng himself, even the two commanding figures around old Du Yu, sat silently. Then their voices wavered off, realizing tension thickened the moment’s import.
Only then did a thought-furrow return upon Duyu face as he asked softly:
“What else did he ask of you then…”
Zhu’s voice fell into hush and shadows:
“He said—never assume even a God General stands untouched…”
Eyes widening, the light dimmed slightly behind his long eyelids. Across the chamber from Ruxiang, even he raised his heavy brow ever so slightly.
Long silence filled until Dou Yu softly murmured,
“He bore another name once… in the Empire beyond. Known widely… yet all records spoke of a heart filled with mercy…”
Zhu scoffed then glared darkly again,
“No one understood why a planned offensive would target South Qing… no clue to captives… a strange, unclean mess of campaign… Rui Xang—would you shed some clarity for the benefit here, old fox…”
An accusation directly aimed. And though long anticipated—Rui Xang bore a cold smile as he answered,
“Do you fathom the matters I walk—who are you even in such a place to demand accounting on matters above your reach?”
A cold and dismissive declaration indeed which boiled Meng once again into outrage and fury. But, an unseen pressure held him back—only then did Duyu rise and break tension, calmly speaking:
“Then leave Zhu aside… let I, bearing command, put these inquiries in place—can I be so bold?”
Eyes narrowing into small slits, the ancient council leader swept a single dismissive glance across all gathered.
“This then is how you plan to treat an elder in defiance?—I shall remind all here—who commands this city and the lands it watches belongs to the Heavens’ chosen King Zhang.
“Mind you this truth: do not choose wrongly your allegiances—lest your futures fall to your errors instead.”
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