A short distance away, on a gentle slope, two groups were locked in a standoff.
One side was led by Kong Yannian, flanked by guards from the Kong, Song, and several minor noble houses, accompanied by a dozen aristocratic fighters. The opposing group was far smaller, consisting of merely three or four people. And yet in terms of aura and气势, it was clearly the smaller group who held the upper hand.
Standing directly opposite Kong Yasenian was Wei Patian himself. His current condition could hardly be described except as disreputable, clothes torn and ragged, patches of undergarments exposed. Crisscrossings scars riddled his bronze-hued flesh—wounds unthinkable on even one inheriting the秘技of Thousand Mountain.
Behind Wei Patia only three retainers marched, besides Wei Huai who still bore an air calm composed, the other two showed bloodless face and shallow breath—their energy obviously exhausted—beyond the shadow of any formidable battle strength they presented little but pitiful spectacles.
Yet not only was Wei Patia himself undiminished, but at that moment, stripped of former gaiety and exaggeration, with an ice-cloaked face his gaze and bearing commanded awe. With eyes burning, he thundered, “Kong Ya Nian, have you grown too brave to block my path like that!?”
Assaulted suddenly with those words, Yannian’s visage darkened though still attempted nobly restrained dignity, responding elegantly yet coldly. “Wei Brother, your tone offens’d. You should agree the Huaiyang Kongs and Yuan-Tung Weis ever keep our realms separated, bearing neither prior ill-wings; if I stand still as fate placed me, then your arrogance may exceed propriety. Perhaps we’d talk—”
The thunder in Weis eyes deepened further. “Who has time for negotiations? Let this be plain: licking Zhao Junhong’s feet? That’s your affair! But now, stepping hard to kiss his seat—you’ve crossed my threshold, bro!” Voice hardened into ultimatum: “Final words—clear this patch or perish!”
Though Yannian was a schemer deep as oceans, his composure could not mask rising ire, “Wei b- brother…”
Wei Patia exploded like thunder, “WHO calls kinship with you? Even your senior’d scarce deserve honor of my brotherhood—stop faking brotherly ties, Yannian! Disrespect earns dismissal—remove yourself NOW!”
Kongs jaw quivered violently. So disciplined in decorum he usually boasted, his strategic sophistication clashed diametrically against Weis vulgar wrath, speechless from shock.
Suddenly an elite house fighter interjected, “My Lords…is such confrontation over the guardian of a hunter group worth it, truly? Perhaps we could see reason—”
Yet he barely got through half a line when suddenly—a wind of impending violence surged before him! Reacting swiftly, he ducked back—barely evading the colossal slap hurtling toward his cranium unleashed from the infuriating giant!
Patian snarled contemptuously: “WHO the dog turd granted YOU a voice to interpose opinion? Speak to me of reputation!? Dare you measure its scale?!”
Fuming between red flush and white pallor—the intercessor had nothing left to say now.
The gaze of fury swept now around all elite warriors. Turning finally to his own retinue, he commanded, “Start noting down every single face. I shall come calling to settle old scores after this day is through, one after another!”
Instantly every one of these noble-borns bore the pallour of dire realization—sure, they might yearn to cozy close with Kongs and Zhaos, But whether such bonds ever truly bonded yet remains unknown. This standoff promised heavy retaliation either result—none cared to ponder whose name topped Wei family hit-lists for today’s events…
Kapitulating to internal calculus: a great many silently determined—best keep safe, hands clear of today’s titanic struggles. After all—the noble houses themselves clashed—mortals shouldn’t dare interfere when celestial battle unfolds!
Wei fixed once again his gaze full upon Kong Yi Nann with slow and searing intent:
“I shall walk willingly unto death today to ensure Xiao-Ye walks away safe. I tell you now—and if he meets any untimely fate—you’ll answer with your soul to the very heavens Yannian! Make you calculations wisely: whatever savory taste that arrogant prick Zhaos bottom may tempt you with — HE SHALL NEVER BE FUTURE DUKE IN HIS HONOR HOUSE and even IF HE—can the flavor satisfy against the firestorm of my wrath, knowing Wei Patia fears NO MAN!?”
At those words, Kong Ya Nian’s anger waned significantly beneath deep calculations. He wore expressions of stone now, brooding with gravity — indeed, by now none was blind to what might bind that name—Qian Xiaoye and Weis alliance was more than temporary truce…the absolute, final line carved in the stars meant something deeper—something beyond mere alliance or happenstance.
This was serious.
And while the lure of the moment’s opportuny gnarled at his instincts—there, he found little room for action, trapped before public eyes with honor’s burden of choice.
He hesitated.
Yet even that contemplation shattered at arrival of one entering frame then from guards at Song House’s flank: Ye Mulan emerged anew. Freshly clothed, composure fully resumed, the icy mask returned—the image he had grown most accustomed: pride wrapped tightly in noble contempt.
With a few swift measured steps forward, she coolly regarded the enraged figure thusly:
“High Lord Wei—if House Wei truly holds authority—must your actions here be conducted in so undignified & outrageous of matter manners? You oughtn’ push so mercilessly if Lord Kong won’t argue thus far.”
A flicker of contempt flashed in Patians’ eyes.
“That child dies today by decree, are you daring defying Song Family name itself to challenge such order so openly, High Prince?” she continued.
The infamous Wei prince turned, then erupted into thunderous laughter—a sharp, contemptuous phlegm striking dust between them:
“Who claims Song Dominion from one such harlot?”
“I am the promised bride of Song Zining! DARE you so degrade I!” rage crackled raw from voice.
He laughed again louder—phlegm spat sharper: “Mere promised—truthfully I question sight abilities in Song family canine eyes choosing *this* piece here”
“You…” rage boiled into speechless fury.
“Guards! Restrain this madman! Later, let Lord Zining deal with house Wei over it!”
They acknowledged in shouts.
But none so much raised a fist. Immovable as earthbound stakes.
Wei Patian bore title as Heir unto Lord of Bowang—to all assembled in Hunt’s Grounds, none matched such pedigree even the Zhao Heir ranked lower formally in protocol…
Suddenly he smiled, twistedly, striding forwards. Ye Muluant felt her knees tremble involuntarily, yet fought to hold poise.
“What…what do you desire?”
In whisper barely heard, death’s promise: “Delusions? Your name means *NOTHING*—should I claim the hand Lady Song Zining offers—I would reduce your *nameless clan*, bridegroom or no, down into forgotten shadows—then erase *all that carries your name* in blood.”
Pale drained face. And her breath shuddered. Not fear.
Comprehension had bloomed terrifyingly clear.
Though fantastical, it wasn’t idle boast. Song Ziyan—Song Matriarch’s chosen—frowned with affection rare for her lineage. Should Wei publicly pursue alliance—the Song’s ruling faction would celebrate—its reverberations rippling beyond merely domestic affairs, influencing entire imperial strategy… In face of consequences—her family would become nothing but *expendable pawns* amidst greater games played.
While Wei could never so easily settle so crucial a matter of House Wei future—Still for Ye—a possibility so minute, still threatened eternal ruin from slightest shift.
And while Wei still observed the others hesitated, stood idle still—patience broke.
Left fist gripped over wrist. Right arm rotating outward, bones cracked ominously. Scanning left-right: combat’s stance unmistakable.
But the tension finally ruptured suddenly by a burst of footfall upon the narrow forest path.
It was Ji Yuejia arrived with band of Yin retainers—smoke, soot and blood trailing in wake.
Recognized on sight, he froze. Surprise flicker in his tone: “How in gods—you come hither too? And where goes Qiqi the hellion child”
“She rode on to relieve Qianye already,” he replied stoically, “Just came from outer limits: met Kongs’ supply column along the way—annihilated three resupply caches of their supply operations as a little side errand.”
Shock gripped Kong. “What!? That—how!?”
Ji monotones through icy glare:
“Your men…only corpses remaining. Your Lord—best hurry—else next day sees zero provisions left to chase. If ranking drops to top ranks?—don’t thank me…”
Kong clenched teeth. Again no proper answer emerged.
Oh how ridiculous—‘by chance encounter’—’side trip’!—he recognized Ji arrived specifically to destroy supply lines of Kong Clan operations. His primary waystation included no normal transport guard—but two additional trained guards as a trap setup to snipe out any intruding scavengers or saboteurs.
Yet Yin had no mere scavengers.
They came like flood.
None had broken out. Qiqi and this Ji man alike terrifying beyond belief…
Wei observed Kongs seething helplessness and understanding dawned.
And broke into giddy peals of roaring laughter slapping Ji’s shoulder in mirthful applause, “Honestly long time believed you effeminate wimp weakling—but guess mistaken! Truly a man to respect. Drink later, yes? Celebrate with me!”
Ji simply smiled in that same unread way:
“My Prince—overestimates. Yet when we drink—we shall return carrying you home, shoulder to floor”
Wei gasped in delighted incredulity at such brazen audacity. Scoping Ji’s band, eyes gleamed at armaments carried behind him. Suddenly he lunged forward, plucke an intimidating massive weapon from shoulder. “Such magnificent weapon—I’ll take this beauty”
Thus declared:
He drove the heavy caliber heavy cannon like a mountain into soft dirt—barrel leveled unwavering at Kongs party. Surprise momentarily rippling at the threat.
“Lord Wei—this is going t—”
And before Kong fully formed even half warning—
Wei’s finger curled and pressed on the trigger!
Danny Hatton carrying Qianye ascends atop small elevation offering open panorama view—unloaded Qianye carelessly.
Gasping from pain and blood loss, he flopped sideways over uneven terrain crawling toward boulder refuge. Yet that brief shuffle stole all breathe, limbs trembling.
“I won’t last longer. You must shoot…before she arrives…leave”
Danny stood watching. Smiling with a slow amusement, “Yet the reports say—your lady favours greatly…her young *lover*” — voice oozed mock.
A wry grimacing scoff. “You must misunderstand your source…Ever inquire truly count *how may lovers graced Yin house third Lady’s bedchamber recently’?”
Danny paused.
The idea had never occurred previously—skeptical.
A frown deepened, he paced, mired indecisive—The bounty’s riches tantalised him. Yet—delay brought risk escalating.
He knows these Hunting Fields always watch by mighty War Lords.
While their employment contract guaranteed—interference should come not even if she rode with such a Lord at her side—could promises survive unforeseen circumstances?
Danny believed survival odds fair. He thrived long only because shadow served best in ambush and assassination—not so much amidst this current mayhem’s open exposure—why only just now dared reveal from cover for this negotiation at all.
He admired Qianye conviction. Yet within his veins boiled another conviction—greed.
Adjusting posture slightly, searching for stable position…then blood spurted anew from abdomen—this time though—glowing almost radiant, like ruby rich—edged towards purple dusk…
Danny snapped around.
Gazes fixed in mad hunger upon the flow. Blood—shimmered strange. Life-force…unique.
Across distant treelines… a deep thunder cracked. The sound of heavy fire spewing rapid death:
A machine gun bellowing its roar at war’s crescendo.
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