The eastern sky began to tinge with a silvery ash, heralding the dawn of a new day. Yet, for Black Eagle Mountain, the long night seemed far from over. The fire at the granary, having consumed everything in its path, had finally died down, leaving only thick pillars of black smoke ascending to the heavens, carrying with them the stench of ash and death.
The valley at the foot of the mountain had been hastily cleared. The corpses of the bandits were piled together, waiting for the soldiers of Duke Dingguo's Estate to handle them. The surviving remnants, numbering over a hundred, were tightly bound with coarse ropes. Kneeling in a long row, they trembled in the chill of the morning mist and the grip of sheer terror.
Tran Kien and Ly Tin stood before them, forming a stark contrast. Ly Tin wore silver armor, his back straight as a spear, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword; his entire being exuded the majesty and killing intent of a battlefield general. Tran Kien, on the other hand, remained in his simple indigo robes, the matte black saber slung across his back. He looked utterly ordinary, but his gaze was so profoundly sharp and unfathomable that no one dared to look him directly in the eyes.
"Speak!" Ly Tin pointed his sword at the First Hall Master, the scarred bald man who was tightly bound and kneeling at the very front. "Besides what was written in the letters, what other tasks did Marquis Vinh An assign to you? Who is the mole within Duke Dingguo's Estate?"
The First Hall Master, despite being a fish on the chopping block, still retained a sliver of the backbone expected of a leader. He merely let out a cold snort and turned his head away, refusing to utter a single word.
"Still acting stubborn?" Ly Tin flared with anger, preparing to step forward and apply torture.
"General Ly, wait a moment." Tran Kien reached out a hand to stop him. He slowly walked forward and squatted down in front of the First Hall Master. He did not interrogate, nor did he threaten. He simply stared quietly into the man's eyes.
"I know you do not fear death," Tran Kien said, his voice placid. "For a man who has rolled around in the Jianghu, living today but perhaps dying tomorrow, death is not the most terrifying thing. But... do you have a family?"
The First Hall Master froze, a flicker of hesitation flashing in his eyes.
Tran Kien did not need him to answer. He continued, speaking as if he were merely recounting a story. "You are the First Hall Master; you surely have a few trusted brothers who have gone through life and death by your side. They are now nothing but cold corpses out there. Have you thought of their wives and children? Without their pillar of support, without money to provide for them, how will they survive in this chaotic world?"
He paused for a moment, his tone growing colder. "Marquis Vinh An can promise you wealth and glory. But when you are dead, do you truly think a high and mighty figure like him will care about the life or death of the families of mere bandits?"
Every word from Tran Kien was not a physical torture, but a psychological one. It struck directly at the weakest point in the hearts of men of the Jianghu—no matter how vicious they might be, they always placed heavy importance on the word 'qingyi'—brotherhood and loyalty.
The First Hall Master began to pant, cold sweat beading on his bald forehead. "What... what do you want?" he gritted out.
"Very simple," Tran Kien replied. "I do not need you to betray Marquis Vinh An. I only need you to tell me everything related to the safety of our Young Lady. About the Myriad Snake Cavern, about the Black Dragon Stronghold's plan, about the mole. Tell me everything."
"And then what?"
"And then," Tran Kien stood up and turned his back. "All the wealth in the hidden chamber of the Black Eagle Stronghold, aside from the items connected to Marquis Vinh An, I will not touch a single copper of it. I will have men distribute all that gold and silver to the families of your fallen brothers. Consider it burial fees that we are paying on your behalf. As for you... I will grant you an intact corpse."
This was a transaction. A transaction that the First Hall Master could not possibly refuse. He looked back at his trembling brothers kneeling behind him, and then thought of his own wife and children, and those of the dead. His loyalty to Marquis Vinh An, in that fleeting moment, became utterly laughable.
"Alright," he nodded, as if a burden weighing ten thousand catties had been lifted from his shoulders. "I'll speak."
One shichen later, inside the ruined Hall of Loyalty, Tran Kien and Ly Tin sat opposite each other, both of their expressions incredibly solemn.
What the First Hall Master had confessed was far more terrifying and complex than what was contained in the letters.
The Myriad Snake Cavern was not an ordinary location. It was one of the most important and secretive bases of the Black Dragon Stronghold in the western region, situated within a valley choking with poisonous miasma, rendering it incredibly dangerous. Marquis Vinh An's plan was for the Black Eagle Stronghold, upon capturing Lam Vy, to not hand her over directly. Instead, they were to "accidentally" let her slip into the hands of a Black Dragon Stronghold patrol that was "coincidentally" passing by. Everything was to be staged as a random, chaotic clash to completely scrub away any connection to Marquis Vinh An.
As for the mole within Duke Dingguo's Estate, it was not just one person, but a group. They were led by a Steward from the Outer Court who had been bought off by Marquis Vinh An long ago. He was the one who had leaked Trinh Cong and Lam Vy's travel route.
But the most crucial piece of intelligence was a matter that even Marquis Vinh An did not know about.
"The First Hall Master said," Ly Tin repeated, his voice laced with burning indignation. "Half a month ago, Iron Eagle secretly met with an envoy from the Black Dragon Stronghold. That envoy offered an astronomical price—not to buy them off, but to 'hire' the Black Eagle Stronghold to do something else once they captured the Young Lady."
"Do what?"
"They wanted blood," Ly Tin said, his eyes turning bloodshot. "Not to kill her. But to extract the Young Lady's blood. That envoy said the Young Lady's Lac Viet bloodline is an incredibly precious 'medicinal catalyst' that can be used to cultivate a certain demonic art. They wanted to draw three full bowls of fresh blood before silencing her to destroy the evidence."
Tran Kien clenched his fists tightly, his knuckles popping. A chilling stream of killing intent, more intense than ever before, radiated from his body, causing even Ly Tin to shiver.
Demonic heretics! Daring to use an ancestral bloodline to cultivate a demonic art! A crime worthy of ten thousand deaths!
He suddenly understood. The Black Dragon Stronghold was not merely acting as a lackey for Marquis Vinh An. They harbored an even greater, far more sinister conspiracy. The Shamanic Map, the Lac Viet legacy... from the very beginning, their targets had always been these things.
"We cannot let them travel to the Indigo Capital alone anymore," Tran Kien stood up abruptly, his voice as hard as iron. "General Ly, we must pursue them immediately! On the road ahead, Marquis Vinh An and the Black Dragon Stronghold have undoubtedly laid even more perilous traps waiting for them!"
Ly Tin also stood up at once. "But... how do we handle these surviving bandits?"
Tran Kien looked outside, to where the First Hall Master had already been granted his intact corpse. He spoke coldly: "Leave them for your subordinates to handle. We have no more time. Pick the two best horses. We must depart immediately!"
The chessboard had completely shifted. This was no longer a battle against the Black Eagle Stronghold. It was a race against time, a desperate dash to save their comrades who were currently rushing headlong into a much larger, deadlier trap without knowing a thing.