The ragged oasis soldiers followed behind him like a deep yellow cloak, sweeping wildly down the hillside toward the enemy camp that had already lost formation. There was no ambush, no sneak attack—just a direct frontal collision, repaying them with their own methods. The oasis troops pierced into the enemy camp like a sharp blade.
Awuha’s screams were heart-wrenching, and Western Rong curses flowed endlessly like the waters of the Wolin River. Tie Ci gazed down at the hillside, watching the collisions, the slaughter, the back-and-forth of blades, the trampling of flesh and blood.
She saw the Eagle Lord’s curved saber swing in a circle through the air, blade light accompanied by splashing blood reaching high into the sky. The fierce Awuha’s curses came to an abrupt halt, and his subordinates panicked in confusion. The leaderless troops scattered in chaos, with pursuing soldiers cutting down those they caught up with.
They should have been comrades-in-arms, yet now they wielded blades against each other. But may Da Qian never have civil war again.
The shouts and sounds of killing below gradually weakened. Tie Ci spurred her horse down the hillside.
The corpses on the ground piled up so thickly they blocked the horses’ path. She dismounted, walked around those corpses, and led her small squad into the overwhelming stench of blood. The academy students behind her were pale-faced but still gritted their teeth and followed step by step through the blood pools that covered their boots.
This was Tie Ci’s test for them. Only by witnessing bloodshed and death would they know the preciousness of peace, and would they strive for it their entire lives, never giving up. She didn’t want them to wield blades, but she wanted them to see the consequences of blades being wielded.
Going around the wall of corpses, behind it were large groups of surrenderers. They had all thrown down their weapons and were kneeling on the ground.
The Eagle Lord stood in the center of the crowd, covered in blood from head to toe. His baby-faced mask was completely red, making him appear even more coldly terrifying to the bone. Hearing Tie Ci’s footsteps, he suddenly turned around, stepped forward to meet her, and fiercely embraced her tightly.
Tie Ci: “…”
Everyone: “…”
Feiyu: “…!!??!!”
Tie Ci smelled the heavy scent of blood on his body, mixed with the man’s intense aura that wrapped around her with extreme aggression. He held her so tightly that even with Tie Ci’s martial arts skills, she felt somewhat suffocated by his embrace.
She frowned, thinking to herself that this person, for some reason, seemed to have a strange possessiveness toward her. She raised her hand to push him away, and when her fingers touched his bony shoulders, for some reason her heart suddenly felt sour.
This man who was so thin he was almost skeletal made her suddenly afraid to think about anything. However, her hand still pushed out. Pity and love could never be confused with each other. If she blurred the boundaries because of soft-heartedness, everyone would suffer in the future.
The moment the Eagle Lord was pushed away by her, he whispered in her ear: “You will stay by my side.”
Tie Ci smiled, shook her head, patted his shoulder, and said: “A true warrior not only has the ability to rise from the mud, but also has the courage to walk on alone.”
The Eagle Lord also shook his head, but said nothing, and strode down the hillside. When he passed by Feiyu, Feiyu looked him up and down with a smile on his lips and killing intent in his eyes.
People who had experienced many battles could easily distinguish a person’s threat level. He had quite a few romantic rivals, but none like the Eagle Lord—silent and persevering, with every inch of his gaze dancing with possessive obsession.
His habit was to see such people and eliminate them early to avoid trouble. A hand suddenly pressed down on his slightly twitching hand. Feiyu turned his head to see Tie Ci slowly shaking her head.
He laughed once and said mockingly: “What, can’t bear to part with him?”
Tie Ci ignored his jealousy and gazed toward the other side of the grassland. “I’m certain that Qiu Wujiu will never give up the throne. His ambitions are great, and the eldest prince is definitely no match for Qiu Wujiu. If Qiu Wujiu gains control of Western Rong in the future and then uses his relationship with the Liaodong royal family to scheme for Liaodong, then Yongping will be in danger, and the people of Da Qian will be in danger.”
Feiyu had always known that Tie Ci worried about the country and its people with the world in her heart. This was also the normal state of academy students—daily classroom political discussions where each one strategized like they were more concerned about national affairs than the Chief Minister. However, hearing this now felt jarring, so he laughed lightly and said: “So you want to support this little bastard who has ulterior motives toward you? You’re alone in Western Rong—aren’t you afraid that once he gains power, he’ll use any means necessary to keep you here?”
“Beloved consort,” Tie Ci said seriously, “this lonely king is both talented and intelligent, never having suffered defeat. Why do you still worry day and night?”
Feiyu’s eyes slanted with a half-smile: “Only because I care about you.”
“Beloved consort, in the future you will be the primary consort, someone who will be a model for the world. You absolutely cannot casually become jealous anymore.”
This word “primary consort” obviously pleased Feiyu. He laughed and pinched Tie Ci’s wrist. Tie Ci saw the killing intent in his eyes gradually fade and sighed in her heart.
This person was good in every way except for his great jealousy, and not only great jealousy but also great murderousness. If she didn’t adjust his temperament properly, in the future when she held court and dealt with countless men, would he have to kill them all with his blade?
As for three palaces and six courtyards, that was even more unthinkable. The Crown Princess stood in the wind and sighed melancholically.
Down the hillside, the Eagle Lord breathed slightly heavily, his blood-red eyes slowly sweeping over the prisoners on the ground. The captives looked at him with trembling fear.
His voice was hoarse as he said: “Kill them all.”
Everyone was shocked. Killing prisoners was ominous. Moreover, killing prisoners had serious consequences—it would arouse everyone’s shared hatred and common anger. In future encounters, they would fight to the death in resistance, making the path forward doubly difficult.
“Eagle Lord!”
“Kill them all.”
I’m not alive to seize the Western Rong throne, not to restore the glory of the Wuliang clan. I only want those blades that cut down my relatives, those hands that burned my palace, those spears that picked up my father’s corpse, those mouths that spat into human cauldrons—all of them to disappear from this world.
Someone strode forward—it was that tattooed man, carrying a curved saber, walking toward the deputy general who had led Awuha’s surrender. Suddenly a hand pressed on his shoulder.
The hand was small, snow-white and slender, yet extremely powerful. With a gentle pull, the tattooed man was pulled back to his original position. Tie Ci’s voice rang out: “Wait a moment.”
The tattooed man shook off her hand: “This is our business—it’s not your place to interfere!”
“Then I’ll leave right now.” Tie Ci smiled. “Though I’m of little use, I’m also unwilling to mix with a team destined to fail.”
She said she would leave and did so. With a wave of her hand, everyone immediately followed silently behind her. The tattooed man’s pupils contracted. He hadn’t expected this person to be so unyielding and decisive. He wanted to say something regretful to keep her but couldn’t speak the words.
The Eagle Lord stepped sideways and silently blocked Tie Ci’s path as she turned to leave. Tie Ci crossed her arms and smiled at him: “Hmm?”
The Eagle Lord said: “I have a blood feud.”
“Then go settle it with the person responsible for your blood feud. What kind of skill is killing prisoners to vent anger?” Tie Ci said indifferently. “I don’t work with people who act on impulse and are short-sighted.”
The Eagle Lord fell silent. The air around them gradually tensed due to the confrontation.
After a long while, the Eagle Lord slowly stepped back. The sound of everyone’s relief was as clear as a gust of wind.
Tie Ci smiled, but instead of walking away, she drew the curved saber from a soldier beside her and handed it to the Eagle Lord. The Eagle Lord accepted it in bewilderment. Tie Ci jerked her chin toward the deputy general.
The Eagle Lord understood, took the blade, swung his arm, and the blade light was like splashing snow. The deputy general’s head crashed into the crowd of kneeling surrenderers, causing cries of alarm.
Amid the cries, the Eagle Lord said savagely: “Led troops to surrender too late. Kill.”
He dragged the bloody blade and walked into the group of prisoners of war, occasionally raising and dropping his blade.
“Killed my brothers most bravely. Kill.”
“Still tried to fight after ordering surrender. Kill.”
“Tried to escape and report. Kill.”
Heads rolled all over the ground. Most of the dead were officers in this unit—those qualified to trample the palace gates and spit, those with blades in their hands.
He couldn’t kill all the prisoners, but killing a few who stubbornly resisted as an example to others was not unreasonable. Accumulated resentment in the heart easily led to madness and illness. Tie Ci gave the Eagle Lord a chance to vent.
Moreover, those who died were mid-level military officers in the army—the backbone military force of any army and even all of Western Rong, the batch most likely to become generals in the future. She felt that the more of this type who died, the better.
Heads rolled chaotically among the dark masses of people, fresh blood reaching up to their knees. Those captives no longer dared to move, burying their heads even deeper.
This massacre lasted from night until day. This battle established the Eagle Lord’s reputation for brutality and wildness. From then on, in every battle, the officers among the prisoners would certainly lose their heads. This reputation gradually spread. Although it would also arouse the blood courage of some fierce generals, more often it caused the officers in opposing armies to be panic-stricken and fearful before fighting.
This also let many Western Rong soldiers know that whoever resisted most fiercely would have a worse fate once they lost. This also caused when the Eagle Lord fought against opponents, once the other side showed signs of decline, they would be defeated faster. Soldiers didn’t dare fight to the death and would even hate the generals who ordered them to fight to death. Incidents of soldiers cutting off the heads of generals who ordered them to fight to death and surrendering continuously occurred. There were also continuous cases of generals choosing to flee when the battle situation was unfavorable, causing even more complete collapse that was irreversible.
Later he gained the title “Flying Eagle Demon Lord.” They said he had no father or mother, was born from mountains of corpses and seas of blood, loved slaughter, and was completely inhuman.
But some people also said that he loved nothing in this world. Except for the person he always kept hidden in his heart.