The frigid moonlight shone down upon the abandoned gladiator arena, illuminating the nearly one hundred figures in black armor kneeling on one knee. They maintained their posture, silent as stone statues, yet the killing intent and fanatical zeal radiating from them resembled a smoldering volcano, ready to erupt at any given moment. Their oath of absolute loyalty still echoed faintly in the air.
Facing them, Tran Kien—or rather, the Faceless Lord—stood in silence. The black dragon formed from Saber Intent had dissipated into the air, but the coercive pressure, both brilliant and overbearing, lingered, ensuring that no one dared to raise their head.
He bore no trace of the smugness typical of a master who had just subjugated a mighty army. He was observing. His profound gaze beneath the bamboo hat swept over them one by one. He saw the loyalty and zeal in their eyes. But he also saw the wildness, the indiscipline of men who had grown accustomed to slaughter and plunder over the past century.
This was a streak of fierce tigers. An incredibly powerful streak, but exceedingly difficult to control. If left untempered, they would forever remain a band of bandits, never becoming a chess piece capable of shaking the grand chessboard of Dai Viet.
"Stand up, all of you."
Faceless's raspy voice rang out—not loud, yet incredibly clear, reaching the ears of every single person.
Nearly a hundred Blood Fiend Guards stood up in unison, their armor clanking together. They stood there, arms hanging by their sides, awaiting the first command of their new master.
"I know," Faceless spoke slowly, "what you are all thinking. You follow me because of the Blood Hand Demon General's legacy. You wish to reclaim the glory of the past, to once again run rampant under heaven and make blood flow like rivers."
His words struck directly at the core of their desires. Many eyes clearly revealed their excitement.
"However," Faceless's tone abruptly shifted. An aura as cold as ice radiated from him, seemingly dropping the temperature of the entire arena by several degrees. "That era... has passed."
"From today onward, the Blood Fiend Guards shall have new rules. My rules."
He looked directly at Thiet Phu, who stood in the front row. "Thiet Phu, tell me, where does the strength of the 'Asura Blood Slaughter' saber art lie?"
"To answer the Lord," Thiet Phu replied respectfully, "its strength lies in its ruthlessness and treachery. Once a strike is launched, it shows no mercy, seizing lives and snatching souls."
"Wrong," Faceless shook his head. "That is merely the outer shell. Its true essence lies in a single word: Precision. Every stance targets the most lethal vulnerability, using the least amount of force to inflict the maximum damage. The fact that the Blood Hand Demon General could run rampant across the realm was not solely due to brutality, but rather that deadly precision."
"From this moment forth, the first rule of the Blood Fiend Guards," he raised his voice, "is 'Precision'. Every mission, every target must be meticulously investigated and perfectly planned. When we strike, it must be a guaranteed kill. If a strike misses, retreat a thousand li immediately. We are not a mob of bandits; we are a dagger concealed in the shadows. The blade is only drawn when it can pierce directly into the enemy's heart."
The Blood Fiend Guards were stunned. They hadn't expected their new master to lay down a rule that completely contradicted their previous style of conduct.
"The second rule," Faceless continued, "is 'Concealment'. The name 'Blood Fiend Guards' is far too conspicuous. From now on, when operating, no one is permitted to reveal their identity. You can be a wine seller, a beggar, a blacksmith. Be anyone, except a Blood Fiend Guard. The greatest power is not that which is flaunted, but that which the enemy never knows exists."
"And the final rule, which is also the most important," Faceless's gaze became chilling to the extreme. "Absolute loyalty. Anyone who dares to disobey orders, anyone who dares to leak information, anyone who allows personal matters to affect the grand scheme... will be killed without mercy!"
Every word, every syllable was like a sledgehammer smashing directly into the heart of every Blood Fiend Guard. They transitioned from doubt to contemplation, and finally, to a profound awe stemming from the depths of their souls.
This new Lord didn't just possess power. He also possessed a strategic mind and a ruthlessness even more terrifying than the Blood Hand Demon General of the past. They understood that this was the true path—the path that could lead them further.
"This subordinate understands!" Thiet Phu was the first to drop to one knee, solemnly accepting the command.
"THIS SUBORDINATE UNDERSTANDS!" The remaining near-hundred men also knelt in unison, their shouts echoing resonantly.
Faceless nodded. He knew that the first step in tempering this streak of fierce tigers was a success.
"Good," he said. "Since you understand, you shall now receive your first mission."
He tossed Thiet Phu a small pouch. Inside was a detailed map of the City of Chaos and a list.
"Within seven days," Faceless's voice rang out. "I want you to investigate everything clearly regarding the names on this list. The lair of the Crazy Sand Gang, the secret strongholds of the Phantom Shadow Pavilion, the smuggling routes they control. I need to know Manh Tam's habits, the Blood Demoness's preferences. I want to know how many experts they have, how much wealth they possess. I want to know it all. Seven days from now, at this very place, I want to see a complete report."
This was a mission utterly unrelated to slaughter. It was an intelligence-gathering mission. A true test of the new rules he had just established.
"Yes, Lord!" Thiet Phu accepted the mission without the slightest hesitation.
"Go," Faceless waved his hand.
The nearly one hundred Blood Fiend Guards said nothing more. They quietly stood up, and like phantoms, one by one, they melted into the shadows of the City of Chaos, vanishing without a trace. They were no longer a clamorous mob, but an invisible intelligence net being silently cast out.
Only Faceless remained, standing alone in the center of the abandoned arena. He raised his head, looking at the frigid crescent moon in the sky.
Marquis Vinh An, Black Dragon Stronghold... you probably could never have imagined, he thought to himself, that right here in this most chaotic of places, the sharpest dagger is being honed, and it is aimed directly at your throats.
The chessboard... it is time to change the players.