Chapter 8: The Deed Accomplished

In the square, thousands of warriors gradually gathered, many spontaneously forming formations upon arrival. Every warrior was well-equipped and uniformly dressed, exuding a formidable aura from afar. Across the entire neutral lands, the Wolf King’s Army was considered elite.

However, the old man’s face grew increasingly gloomy, as if it might drip water. In his eyes, those who looked tall and strong were actually weak in origin power, scattered and lacking focus. In other words, the entire square was filled with cannon fodder, not a single capable warrior among them.

Such an army was akin to rotten flesh without bones; no matter the numbers, even if their average level surpassed the enemy, they would crumble under any assault by a force with a few strong warriors. From another perspective, these cannon fodder were abundant and expendable, only costing some equipment money.

The generals’ keen eyes quickly noticed the problem, each one more dismayed than the last.

Such cannon fodder, no matter how many, would be useless and only increase the risk for the generals needing to command them.

Qian Ye, traveling alone and unbound, would pay no heed to the cannon fodder but would target the powerful warriors like them. On the battlefield, without mid- and low-level officers to hold defensive nodes, it would be impossible to organize a defense, not even a shield wall. Despite the generals’ disdain for the Wolf King, they knew that none of them could withstand Qian Ye for even a moment.

Sending this bunch of cannon fodder to attack Chaocheng was out of the question.

The old man, well-versed in the generals, didn’t even bother speaking to them. He stood silently for a while before gesturing to a servant, “Since you’ve seen the Imperial Edict, deploy three thousand men. Head to Chaocheng and seal off the west gate immediately.”

The servant’s face showed surprise, “Seal off the west gate?”

The old man snorted, “With such a motley crew, do you think you can seal all four gates?”

The servant smiled nervously, “Of course not, I just… I just think it seems rather futile.”

“Whether it’s futile or not is not for you to decide. Do it now!” The old man’s voice carried a hint of killing intent.

The servant, knowing that further objections might lead to his death, given there was no one in the ancient totem fortress to match the old man, and the Wolf King’s plan did not involve a direct confrontation with Zhang Bushou, nodded and left to make the arrangements.

Once the servant left, a general asked, “Sir, what use are these wastes?”

The old man gave a sinister smile, “Useful, to show our stance.”

“What stance?” the generals were puzzled.

“The stance of the Wolf King.”

Inside Chaocheng, when the Wolf King’s Army sealed the west gate, a small commotion arose. Yet, to everyone’s disappointment, Qian Ye remained unmoved, still in seclusion at the city lord’s mansion, showing no signs of leaving.

As night fell, those expecting action had to disperse in disappointment. It was clear to all that the Wolf King’s Army outside the west gate was nothing but cannon fodder, with not a single war general, let alone a few high-level warriors.

Such a force would crumble at the slightest provocation, offering no strategic value. Their only worth was the Wolf King’s banners in the formation. Attacking them would be tantamount to attacking the Wolf King’s Army.

Qian Ye’s inaction was not unexpected; anyone who saw the so-called three thousand Wolf King troops outside the west gate would know better. However, staying in the mansion without even venturing out was unusual. It likely meant Qian Ye anticipated the Wolf King’s bluff and felt no need to verify it.

As twilight fell, the city lord’s mansion was not at peace. Several dark-clad figures silently leaped over the walls, avoiding guards and moving stealthily toward the back courtyard. They moved in perfect synchronization, without a hint of killing intent.

The back courtyard was mostly empty, with Qian Ye occupying a small compound in the northwest corner. Without being summoned, there were no servants, and naturally, no need for guards. Apart from the usual patrols, even birds rarely passed through.

Two city guards, chatting and laughing, turned a corner and suddenly saw shadowy figures. Startled, they almost cried out, but the figures made a familiar gesture and then flashed a document.

Though the tiny script on the parchment was unreadable, the large Imperial Seal was unmistakable. The two guards exchanged glances, hesitating. Meanwhile, the mysterious figures moved past them, continuing forward.

In the still room, Qian Ye slowly opened his eyes, sensing the approach of the intruders.

At that moment, the wall behind him burst open, and a dull sword thrust towards his head!

The invaders were a distraction, designed to draw attention. The true assassin had been hiding, waiting for the right moment.

This strike, the assassin was determined to succeed, and the blade gleamed with a strange, dark blue poison, unique to the neutral lands.

As the blade neared, Qian Ye sidestepped, almost simultaneously, as if he was simply stretching.

The assassin, undeterred, drew a blue dagger and aimed for Qian Ye’s back.

The room’s layout had been calculated, debris and furniture limiting Qian Ye’s movements. The assassin’s dual strikes aimed to cut off any counterattack.

Qian Ye seemed to make no move, and the dagger pierced his outer robes and skin, struggling through muscle.

But the assassin’s triumph was short-lived. The dagger hit a solid resistance, unable to penetrate further, even the bone.

The assassin, feeling drained, saw floating blood lines in the air, each ending in a clear blood droplet, retracting into his body.

He felt overwhelming fatigue and sleepiness, collapsing without a fight.

Qian Ye stood, flexing his muscles, the wound on his back healing. The poison, though potent, was nothing to an ancient bloodline. Qian Ye felt a slight burning sensation but no other effects.

He examined the dagger and sword, both six-level weapons, and laughed, “They really went all out.”

The assassin was a level sixteen expert, skilled in stealth and terrain use, capable of explosive attacks. His defenses were poor, and he wore no armor, making him easy prey for Qian Ye’s life-stealing technique.

This hidden assassin, whose concealment skills even someone like Du Yuan might struggle against, required immense training and resources. His value far exceeded the weapons.

The Heavenly King’s Palace sent this assassin, a significant investment.

Qian Ye hefted the dull sword, took a step, and appeared beside a wall, stabbing it. The blade, already sharp, and enhanced by Qian Ye’s origin power, pierced the wall, spraying blood.

After several strikes, Qian Ye calmly opened the door, finding four corpses, their skin turning dark blue, all killed by the blade’s poison.

He removed their masks, examining each, and found the document that had frightened the guards, a common passage letter from the Eastern Sea. He crushed it, “Finally, you’re here.”

The invaders, distractions, heard a muffled sound from the room but found everything quiet. Lacking signals, they were hesitant, and Qian Ye killed them.

These killers, though bait, were all war generals. Losing so many trained assassins would pain the Heavenly King’s Palace.

Qian Ye circled the bodies, raising his voice, “Someone, come!”

Two city guards arrived, seeing the corpses, paled, and knelt, “City Lord, we… we saw the Heavenly King’s edict, so we let them pass. We didn’t know they were assassins!”

“Don’t worry, I don’t want to kill you yet. Call more people to drag these bodies to the city lord’s gate. There’s one more inside, don’t miss it.”

The guards eagerly complied, carrying the bodies out. Qian Ye watched, smiling. These guards wouldn’t recognize the killers, but certain upper echelons in Chaocheng would, further embarrassing Zhang Bushou.

Once the bodies were hung, Qian Ye left, having finished his business in Chaocheng. The local power plays were of no concern to him now.

In Nanking, Song Zining stood before a table, scrutinizing a stack of blueprints for a new airship, custom-designed for the neutral lands. Previously, airships were modified from old Empire or Evernight ships, barely serviceable. But these plans, once realized, would create the first truly custom airship, surpassing existing ships.

Creating airships was no easy task, but Song Zining’s acquisition of the super-alloy formula and the ability to produce critical engine parts in the Empire made it possible.

Though not an expert, his military experience allowed him to spot design flaws, and the blueprint was full of his annotations.

Finishing the blueprint, he stretched and rubbed his eyes, seeing his reflection, bloodshot and with heavy bags under his eyes.

A servant knocked, “Lord Zining, someone from the Imperial Military is here.”