In the utter silence, Li Hu Jichang suddenly coughed, his expression turning unnatural. "My apologies, Young Master Zongshi! The situation has drastically changed; victory is already decided over there. Our Profound Purity Sect will not participate in this battle for the Demon King of Mount Qiantian. All prior agreements are void, and naturally, we will not seek reimbursement for the investments the Profound Purity Sect has already made."

Beside him, True Man Wuye, after a slight hesitation, also spoke with difficulty, "Shi'er, this defeat is inevitable. Being exceptionally clever, you naturally understand the wisdom of knowing when to cut your losses. You can return with me to our Senior Brother's side. Once truly accepted under the banner of our Dao-Name Sect, within a few years, you will surely become a core disciple. You will still make a name for yourself."

"Leave?"

Zongshi let out a cold, scornful laugh, his entire demeanor filled with disdain. His gaze, sharp and dark with lingering malice, fixed steadily upon Zong Shou.

"We are far from defeated this time; why should we flee? In my eyes, this contest for the Demon King still holds a fifty percent chance of victory!"

Both Wuye and Jichang were momentarily speechless, assuming that Zongshi, unable to accept reality, was speaking absolute nonsense. Jichang sneered openly, turned on his heel, and walked away, thinking that no matter how gifted someone was, without tempering, they would never achieve greatness. A single failure, and he had already lost his mind.

But in the next instant, Zongshi suddenly spoke, "Brother Xue, you are about to employ the Xue Family's Illusory Mist Mind-Dazzling Art; I presume you have also brought your clan's Illusion Heart Mirror?"

Xue Moyan, who had been standing to the side with an unreadable, half-smile, immediately curved his lips. "And if I have? To be frank, in my view, you, Zongshi, haven't a ghost of a chance."

"Not necessarily!" Zongshi shook his head. "I admit that Zong Shou's schemes and methods might even surpass mine. But everyone, please remember this: this person is ultimately just a cripple. He has not cultivated martial arts, nor does he practice spiritual techniques—he is worse off than an ordinary person. If Brother Xue can perform the Illusory Mist Mind-Dazzling Art, then concealing our movements should be a simple matter."

"Are you planning to directly assassinate the Young Marquis?"

Xue Moyan's eyes narrowed slightly, revealing a flicker of interest. "That is certainly a possibility. However, you, Zongshi, currently possess very few assets to compensate my Xue Clan."

"Once the task is accomplished, Mount Qiantian, and even the Zong Clan, will become vassals to the Eight-Tailed Xue Clan! How does that compensation sound?"

Seeing Xue Moyan flash a brilliant smile, Zongshi knew instantly that the man was tempted. He continued, "Furthermore, regarding Yin Dragon Valley, Mount Qiantian will claim nothing. The thirty percent share previously agreed upon can be divided between the Dao-Name Sect and the Profound Purity Sect."

True Man Wuye, who had been somewhat displeased, now smiled, his expression warming to one of gentle contentment.

Li Hu Jichang, who had already walked more than a dozen paces away, now returned, laughing heartily. "Deal! Young Master Zongshi is truly generous. Jichang will gamble with you this time! I only wonder, Young Master, when do you intend to make your move?"

Zongshi felt a slight relaxation in his spirit, immediately followed by a surge of fierce intent. He narrowed his eyes and let out a contemptuous sneer. "Naturally, at the very moment that Young Marquis is at his most complacent!"

Let him be full of stratagems! A single sword strike from me would be enough to end his life!

ｘＸｘＸ

Zong Shou remained seated lazily atop his Fourth-Tier War Steed. This was not an act; he genuinely lacked any enthusiasm. He wished this day's events would conclude quickly so he could devote himself entirely to refining the Way of the Sword. Holding such a massive advantage, if he still managed to lose, he might as well be classed with the simpletons.

In his previous life, to the Zong Shou who could not cultivate and knew nothing of the world, Mount Qiantian was undoubtedly a hopeless situation. There was no path other than being a puppet awaiting death.

Having gained decades of experience and having already gradually recovered his former life's cultivation, this small predicament was naturally easy to resolve.

Suddenly, he sensed a wave of malice directed at him from a distance, traveling toward him like a tangible gaze.

Zong Shou raised an eyebrow but remained utterly unconcerned. Too many lice stop itching; too many debts stop worrying one. Since entering the city, there had been countless gazes bearing hidden killing intent. So many that he had grown thoroughly numb and unwilling to pay them heed. No matter what methods were employed, Zong Shou would simply receive them.

Chai Yuan had abandoned all hope, and his subsequent actions were no longer delayed. In less than half an hour, he had delivered all the elderly, women, and children of the Chai Clan. With Hu Zhongyuan and Zong Lan present, there was naturally no fear of deception.

Another half hour later, the private army of the Wind Bear Clan had already dispatched sixty thousand armored soldiers. Although Chai Yuan still inwardly favored Zongshi and Zongyang, having been forced to surrender, he held back nothing, selecting only the most elite troops.

The two large armies merged, totaling one hundred and forty thousand men, advancing mightily toward the west.

This time, it was not just the addition of sixty thousand elite Wind Bear warriors. The five garrisons of the East City Army also experienced a surge in morale; the previous unrest caused by the recent purge had vanished. Instead, countless soldiers felt a sense of relief.

Moreover, two hundred thousand able-bodied men were swept along, driven forward to clear the path for the army’s advance. In Mount Qiantian City, nearly everyone practiced martial arts and possessed considerable strength. Wherever they passed, structures were flattened in an instant.

The distance between the Wind Bear Clan's settlement and the settlement of the Moon Wolf Clan was only fifteen li. The army advanced, and in little more than fifteen minutes, they had arrived. Meanwhile, several other large armies were closing in from afar. The fifty thousand men of the West City Army, along with the Feathered Forest Guard and the City Guard—totaling nearly a hundred thousand troops—were all commanders who were Qiu Wei’s trusted subordinates.

The various clans in the city who had been observing the shifting winds now knew the outcome was settled. They all mobilized, converging toward this location. In a short while, the vicinity of the Moon Wolf Clan settlement was suddenly surrounded by over three hundred thousand troops, encasing the area spanning a dozen li in a tight circle.

At that moment, killing intent pierced the sky, and the imposing aura was overwhelming. Banners snapped fiercely, and armor clanged sharply. The Moon Wolf Clan’s influence was no less than the Wind Bear Clan’s. Their fighting strength was slightly weaker, but their population was larger, and their clan’s private army numbered a full one hundred and thirty thousand. Their warriors were famed for their ferocity. However, faced with large armies surrounding them on all four sides, their eyes betrayed a flicker of anxiety.

Though the generals’ gazes were cold and tinged with anger, they forcefully suppressed any intent to strike first, continuously tightening their formation, allowing the hundreds of thousands of troops on the periphery to push inward, compressing their space step by step.

Only when they could retreat no further did a group of figures emerge from within the ranks. Most were elders, presumably the council members of the Moon Wolf Clan. However, the one leading them was a young man, about twenty years old. His body hair resembled steel needles and wolf bristles, and a distinct fissure ran down the center of his brow—the lineage of the purest Moon Wolf blood.

Zong Shou did not recognize this person, but Hu Zhongyuan smiled darkly. "I knew that boy wouldn't be able to hold out..."

Seeing Zong Shou look at him inquiringly, Hu Zhongyuan quickly explained, "This is Ling Xuan, the eldest son of that old man Ling Fakong. We used to be quite close, even solid friends. This fellow is different from his father. Ling Fakong always favored Zongshi, but Ling Xuan, he takes after my father. My poor old father always said we two were born into the wrong lives."

He deliberately emphasized the word 'used to be.' Zong Shou shook his head and chuckled, not taking it too seriously. The various clans within Mount Qiantian City were deeply intertwined, often connected by marriage. To dwell on such history was simply asking for trouble. The latter part of the comment, however, caught his attention slightly—though only 'slightly,' just a 'little bit.'

He wondered if Hu Zhongyuan was speaking well of his friend. Regardless of whether Ling Xuan harbored goodwill toward him, Zong Shou didn't much care. Events had reached this point; no matter what tactics the other side employed, he could crush it.

Ling Xuan walked to the front of the two armies and immediately dismounted, bowing low. "Ling Xuan of the Moon Wolf Clan requests an audience with the Young Marquis!"

Zongshi curled his lip. If Ling Fakong himself had come, that would have been one thing. To meet the son of a clan leader personally? That would diminish his status too much. Looking at the situation, if Ling Fakong wasn't present, negotiations would likely prove fruitless.

Zong Shou gestured three fingers to the side, then let out a dry laugh. "Tell him: surrender or fight. Either the clan is wiped out, or they surrender immediately. There is no third path!"

Hu Zhongyuan immediately understood and spurred his horse to the front of the formation. He glanced at the kneeling Ling Xuan below with a look of pity, then his expression returned to indifference. "The Young Marquis says: within three hundred breaths. If you do not surrender, the entire Moon Wolf Clan will be annihilated!"

Zong Shou, standing behind, paused briefly. This fellow was truly loyal and righteous. He had only intended to give them thirty breaths—no time for consideration—but Hu Zhongyuan had extended it to three hundred on his own initiative. After a moment’s thought, Zong Shou dismissed it. People all had their selfish motives, and he hadn't made his intentions perfectly clear. Still, after this matter was settled, this lapse would need stern punishment.

Ling Xuan’s face turned pale, his gaze shifting restlessly. The several elders behind him were similarly affected; their bodies trembled slightly, revealing hesitation. They seemed inclined to agree but appeared to be concerned about something.

Just as Ling Xuan opened his mouth several times only to fall silent again, a heavy sigh echoed from beyond the battlefield. "Young Marquis, our Moon Wolf Clan surrenders!"

A figure, robes flowing lightly, strode forward from the distance. His handsome face, like Chai Yuan’s, was tinged with the grayness of death. He walked past, and when he reached Ling Xuan’s side, he too knelt on the ground.

Only then did Zong Shou's expression shift slightly. He urged his horse forward, moving neither too fast nor too slow, until he stood before the two men. He then stared fixedly at Ling Fakong with icy eyes. Although the man maintained his composure, his face was deathly white, and though his eyes appeared calm, a deep regret could be discerned within them.

Zong Shou then smiled faintly. "Do you know the background of the Xue Clan? Knowing the Xue Clan's ambition, you still chose to align yourself with Zongshi and their clique, wading into the same muddy pit?"

Seeing the man's body shudder, Zong Shou shook his head, drew Hu Zhongyuan's Tiger Tyrant Blade, and tossed it before Ling Fakong.

"Uncle Ling, you have truly made a mistake this time. The Moon Wolf Clan must also give me an accounting!" (To be continued)