The wind grew fiercer. On the grassland, it raged across the ground as if intending to rip up the turf itself. Inside the tent, the men seemed to be asleep, yet perhaps they were not. The snoring that usually sounded every night without fail was entirely absent tonight.
Finally, in the late hours of the night, a sudden RUSTLE sounded outside, followed by the faint noise of someone collapsing.
Everyone inside the tent sat bolt upright almost instantly.
Someone opened his mouth to shout for assassins, but Yao Zhi swiftly slit his throat with a blade. A massive gash opened on the man's neck, and blood poured out with a SPLASH. Eyes wide, he struggled to turn his head toward Yao Zhi. He seemed unable to comprehend why Yao Zhi would kill him, nor how his defection to the enemy had been discovered.
In the end, he received no answer. Without even closing his eyes, he slumped to the ground with a THUD and died completely.
