On September 22nd, dawn arrived as expected.

Once the sky had brightened, the clamor within Jiangning entered a brief lull. People, having been disturbed all night by the various disorders of the early morning hours, began rising one by one, venturing out cautiously to see how things stood.

At various inns and lodging houses, merchants and martial-world travelers alike began their first round of comings and goings, exchanging all manner of firsthand information over breakfast.

Countless pieces of information, true and false alike, mingled together in confusion throughout the city at this moment — as with every day before, truth and rumor were tangled together, and for the vast majority of ordinary people, it was impossible to make out the true shape of events until everything had finally settled.

At the north end of the city, rumors that the Fair King had fought a life-or-death duel against an assassin for three hundred rounds before finally striking his opponent down with the Overturning-Heaven Seal, badly wounded himself in the process, circulated alongside news that the Fair King himself was gravely injured and near death. Meanwhile, in the south of the city, word of a military coup, along with reports that certain Great Kings had mobilized troops into the city only to be stopped by the Sect Leader of the Great Radiance Sect, had already spread far and wide.

Closer to the city’s inner districts, some of the martial-world experts, having finished their usual morning training, heard over breakfast no fewer than five different accounts of supreme confrontations, including Lin Zongwu facing off against the Fair King, Meng Zhutao challenging Lin Zongwu, and the Fair King fighting off four opponents to a draw single-handedly, among various other versions. As these rumors spread and the morning sun climbed higher, some of the key pieces of information gradually began to clarify themselves through people’s discussions and comparisons.

The rupture between the five Great Kings now seemed an irreversible reality. From last night through this morning, the dozens of assassination attempts that had erupted between the Fair Party’s five factions, targeting one another’s mid- and high-level figures, had formed the central thread of the entire night’s turmoil.

And before the sun had risen this morning, the five Great Kings’ successive departures from Jiangning already signaled that this confrontation had descended into an irretrievable abyss.

Last night had merely been the beginning of it all.

The people within the city would still need considerable time to fully digest all this information. Some began making preparations to leave the city, but most simply watched in silence. All of this was, of course, hardly a good sign — but then again, how many days in recent times had Jiangnan actually passed through without turmoil of one kind or another?

At some of the inns, a number of martial artists still remained puzzled: “So what happens to the tournament, then?”

“…There are only a few matches left, right? Surely they’ll finish it?”

“…Maybe the five Fair Party factions will each send out their own champions to settle things on the arena stage instead.”

As people discussed this, their spirits began to rise once more. “Ooh… now that would truly be a clash of dragons and tigers.”

The martial artists exchanged bewildered glances, looking forward to this coming clash between dragons and tigers.

Meanwhile, some more definitive information had already reached the ears of the more discreet, higher-level envoys and representatives within the city.

“Jiangnan is about to erupt into war.”

At the north end of the city, in a residence belonging to Gao Chang’s territory, Zuo Xiuquan finished a simple breakfast, wiped his mouth with a handkerchief, and turned his gaze toward the assembled elite of the Beigui Army in the hall — including Yinping and Yue Yun.

“He Wen has spared no effort in setting up this stage in Jiangning, and now he’s using it to declare his intentions to the entire realm. But there’s a clear line between saying something and actually doing it. As it now stands, today, the Fair King will completely step over that line, and the other factions can no longer remain ambiguous on the matter either — this internal rupture will now be laid bare, clear as day, for the entire world to see… Gentlemen, many will die today. Once we’ve finished watching the show, we should leave carefully. My old life is now in your hands.”

Having said this, some in the room nodded and thumped their chests confidently, while others wore expressions of calm composure. Yue Yun, standing beside his sister, nodded along while wearing a puzzled expression. “So He Wen… what exactly is he going to do?”

Zuo Xiuquan laughed. “Didn’t he already make it perfectly clear to the other four Great Kings yesterday?”

Yue Yun scratched his head, still confused.

…

As the first rays of morning sunlight rose, those who had taken part in the pre-dawn chaos seemed to be scattered by the sunlight, returning one by one to their respective bases. On one hand, they gathered together the various pieces of information from last night’s turmoil; on the other, they began to formally reckon with the implications and significance of that series of pre-dawn developments.

Yesterday afternoon, when He Wen had first laid out his views and Zhou Shang had furiously overturned the table, it could still be said to be the willful act of one, or perhaps a few, individuals.

Once a clear program had been put forward, clear reactions from the outside naturally followed as well — and even within the Fair King’s own faction, all manner of lobbying and persuasion had emerged simultaneously.

Through the night and the small hours of the morning, the first wave of clashes and confrontations had broken out — but even at that point, as long as some powerful figure could step in to mediate, and the Fair King could be persuaded to reconsider, allowing the five to hold another round of private negotiations, there had still remained some possibility of defusing the situation.

In many political struggles, both sides must maintain sufficient deterrent capability, and it wasn’t unusual for neither side to be willing to back down until the very last moment. Whether the Fair King’s stubbornness was truly resolute conviction, or merely a sky-high opening bid meant to force the other four into retreat as a political strategy, remained something the mid-level figures could reasonably continue to doubt.

As long as no clear, large-scale war had broken out, there remained some possibility of a turnaround.

But as the five Great Kings departed Jiangning one after another, countless people finally came to understand that there was no longer any room for reconciliation.

As the morning mist rose, Lu Xian and Li Duanwu, having witnessed the fighting to the south of the city, returned with the able-bodied men and their families from Li Family Village to the residential ward they had once fled. People began noisily returning home; exhausted women settled their soundly sleeping children back into their houses, then began boiling water and preparing meals, while the able-bodied men under Li Duanwu’s direction began a second round of fortifying the street barricades. Lu Xian sat by the river at the street corner, lost in a daze for a while.

After a time, Li Duanwu came over, followed by a dozen or so of his most capable men, now assembled together. The old man patted his shoulder, handed him two steamed buns, and sat down beside him.

“…He Shuangying is already dead. There’s still time to change your mind, if you want.”

While Lu Xian ate his bun, the old man spoke beside him.

“He Shuangying’s dead, but Wei Xuwen’s subordinates haven’t all died along with him. I’ll still need to report back to them shortly,” Lu Xian said, tearing off a piece of bun and stuffing it into his mouth, speaking slowly. “And besides, He Shuangying’s already given the word — He Fu won’t dare let us leave the city again.”

“…Should we look for a way out in some other direction?”

“…Leaving the city now would cost another round of silver.” Lu Xian sighed. “And besides, Uncle Duanwu, Jiangnan is about to descend into chaos. Li Family Village sits right in the middle of Yama King’s territory — where would we even go?”

In the early morning light, the old man fell silent for a moment. “In a chaotic world, as long as you have men under your command, you can always find somewhere to align yourself. That much, at least, isn’t something to worry about.”

“Side with He Wen? Uncle Duanwu, how this whole battle turns out… it’s genuinely hard to say.”

“He Wen’s side claims to have the southwest’s support, and based on what happened the last two times, the southwest… they really did send people this time.”

“Maybe he really does have the southwest’s backing.” Lu Xian gazed off into the distance, put a piece of bun into his mouth, and chewed. “But whether it’s the southwest or the Reading Society, the remedy they’re prescribing for us is that these Great Kings and faction leaders shouldn’t be corrupt or play favorites. Uncle Duanwu, when the Fair Party was first founded, that would have been a good thing — but now, everyone’s already carved out their own territory, built up their own household wealth. Would anyone actually be willing to go through a whole other round of ‘fairness’?”

Having said this, he sighed and turned to look back at the streets and alleys behind them. “No matter how formidable the southwest’s Black Banner Army might be, distant water can’t put out a nearby fire — at best, they’ll offer verbal support to the Fair King. As for us, we’ve got thousands upon thousands of former peasants who’ve now gotten themselves these fine wards and houses — who among them would want to go through another round of ‘fairness’? Uncle Duanwu, if you gave the order right now, telling them to give up these houses, to actually become equals with those beggars whose families have been destroyed — do you think Zhuzi and the others would still listen to us?”

“So then, this time, we should…”

Lu Xian fell silent for a moment.

“People always say that making choices is the hardest thing in life. But Uncle Duanwu, here’s how I see it — someday down the road, if the Black Banner Army does come charging out and gains the upper hand, that’s one thing. But right now, with He Wen doing what he’s doing, he’s bound to take a beating from the start. His grand principles may sound interesting enough, but has Yama King ever actually suffered a real loss? He can talk all he wants about benevolence and righteousness, but with this many people involved, who wouldn’t want to rush in and grab as much of the spoils as possible? Even going by the Reading Society’s own logic, once the territory’s big enough that those who’ve already profited only care about enjoying themselves, turning into a second Fang La — well, that would only come after they’ve already killed off people like Wu Qimei and Tie Yan…”

He paused briefly. “This very day, Jiangning’s about to erupt into chaos. Uncle Duanwu, honestly, the moment I gave the order to come back here, I’d already made my choice. A real man, living in this world, if he wants to get anything worthwhile, who can avoid risking his life for it? Since we’ve already boarded Yama King’s boat, all we can do now is carve out our own piece of the world through bloodshed — that’s the only way, in the future, we’ll have any real bargaining chips at the negotiating table. And besides…”

Having said this, Lu Xian reached down and drew the long blade at his side, gazing at its gleaming edge in the morning light.

“And besides… Uncle Duanwu, you saw Sect Leader Lin’s level of martial skill for yourself, didn’t you? People say there are countless masters in this world, but this coming clash of dragons and tigers — honestly, I… don’t want to sit this one out on the sidelines either…”

Wielding blades, practicing martial arts, courting death in reckless pursuit of glory — for hundreds of years, martial-world men of this sort had always been considered lowly figures in this world. Even in eras when one or two famous roving swordsmen or assassins had emerged, they’d mostly existed as appendages to scholars or ruling powers. Take “Iron Arm” Zhou Tong, for instance — despite being renowned throughout the realm as the greatest master alive, in times of peace and prosperity, he’d never managed to obtain an official post no matter how hard he sought one.

Lu Xian had spent half his life training in the martial arts, and for most of that time, it had simply been a matter of fighting to survive. Leading the people of Li Family Village out to make their own way, becoming an elite enforcer under Wei Xuwen — in terms of raw skill and combat experience, his fighting strength had risen to roughly top-tier level in the martial world, but in the past, he’d more often thought of himself as little more than a hired thug and attack dog.

Yet it couldn’t be denied that, with Ning Yi’s peculiar brand of propaganda spreading over the years and the arrival of these turbulent times, the current chaotic years had, in fact, been a particularly flourishing period for the heroes and vagabonds of the martial world. Ever since the southwest’s grand World’s-Best Tournament had been held twice with great fanfare, He Wen, seeking to attract attention of his own, had likewise needed to organize a tournament of his own. Though political intrigue had continued churning nonstop throughout these times, the gathering of martial-world figures within the city, and the endless clamor of discussion about the righteous and criminal underworlds, had, for a time, genuinely become part of the local culture — filled with a certain romanticized flair.

Even though Lu Xian could clearly recognize the limits of his own abilities, he still couldn’t entirely help but harbor certain grandiose fantasies from time to time. Especially having witnessed, just this very morning, “Ruler of Heaven” Meng Zhutao’s assassination attempt on the Great King — the skill on display had truly left him feeling utterly outmatched, and with Lin Zongwu subsequently demonstrating his own overwhelming power, that bold, world-dominating majesty had likewise set Lu Xian’s blood surging with excitement.

Over the years, he had trained his martial arts with trembling diligence, and had often found himself active on the front lines of deadly combat, taking a certain pride in his own skills — yet only now, in this moment, had he finally witnessed just how far such mastery could truly go, that such a level of achievement actually existed in this world.

He had made his decision, and had already thought it through clearly: in these chaotic times, if one couldn’t press forward boldly when the moment called for it, how could one ever hope to claim a place for oneself in the world to come?

What’s more, with Holy Sect Leader Lin Zongwu having decided to lead the elite forces of the Great Radiance Sect into action, the situation now stood at four factions against one. In the future great melee that might engulf the Fair Party’s tens of millions of followers, with all its scheming and treachery on the battlefield, the outcome might well be difficult to predict — but here in Jiangning today, how much of a wave could the meager forces He Wen had left behind possibly stir up?

He raised his long blade and rose abruptly to his feet, explaining his decision to the dozen or so able-bodied men of Li Family Village behind him. These men immediately drew their own blades in response. Having followed Wei Xuwen’s orders these past days, they too were already seasoned “Heaven’s Executioner” subordinates who had seen oceans of blood and killed more men than they could count — at this moment, whatever hesitation Lu Xian himself might still feel, for them there was hardly anything left to agonize over.

It was, after all, nothing more than killing people, same as before.

“…Today’s events will have all sorts of masters charging in ahead of us — you all just follow orders, prioritize your own survival first, and look for opportunities to distinguish yourselves as we go… Once we set out, the rest of you hold the barricades. When peace returns to this place someday, all the neighboring wards will belong to us.” He raised his blade high.

“Go and seek yourselves some fortune and glory—”

The assembled men cried out together in response.

Hearing this commotion, the people of the ward set down whatever work they’d been doing and turned to look. Someone waved a hand, and the able-bodied men and women, children and elderly who remained behind watched as these dozen or so pillars of the community strode off with their steel blades, off to seek their own prosperity.

Turning to leave, Lu Xian glanced back once, then again, and then pointed toward the side, shouting, “Gouzi! Don’t you dare take a shit by the roadside!”

A child, who’d been squatting by the road relieving himself after a whole night of chaos, rubbed his eyes and then went scurrying off, clutching his backside.

The group of bloodthirsty swordsmen laughed and cursed good-naturedly as they walked off toward the distant scene of bloodshed.

But everything in this world had, after all, come from bloodshed to begin with — and so they firmly believed that, this time too, they would return home laden with rewards…

…

The quarter-hour past the hour of Chen.

Kuang Wenbo swung his single whip and struck down a middle-aged woman into a pool of blood. Because she’d been wearing thick clothing, the blow didn’t kill her outright, and the woman crawled through the pool of blood, the surroundings a chaotic sea of red.

If his nose still worked, he should have been able to smell the heavy stench of blood by now, but at this moment, his sense of smell had failed him because his nose was ruined. He wasn’t sure whether this state left him feeling irritated or freed from something — but in any case, after several days of medical leave, he had once again taken part in operations for the Undying Guard, and this first assignment had proven quite easy. The weakness and panicked shrieking of the enemy gave him a certain feeling of exhilaration.

Though his nose was ruined, he’d already had a fearsome mask crafted, covering the lower half of his face — he had to remove it to eat, but overall, this appearance lent him a further air of formidable mastery, even something of a demonic aura, striking fear into onlookers.

In the martial world, instilling fear in others was always a good thing.

And after several days of recuperation, this first kill of his had come without any noticeable stiffness in his movements — if anything, having been ambushed twice, his senses had grown even sharper, his reflexes even more acute, a sign of further breakthroughs in his martial skill.

He gave his steel whip a swing in his hand.

This was the morning’s surprise raid on the family members of “Society of Grudges” members, and by now the killing and manhunt had entered their final stages. Not far off, the squad leader strode over. “Faster, faster, this is just the warm-up — why are you all moving so slowly! Once we’re following Sect Leader Lin, there’s real, important business to attend to! All of you, hurry up—”

The woman on the ground was crawling forward. Kuang Wenbo smiled, swung his steel whip, and shattered her skull. He flipped the corpse over, felt around inside her clothing, pulled out some gold and silver, tucked it into his own robes, and then made his way outside. As deputy squad leader, he too shouted out a few times: “Hurry it up, all of you—”

The group hastily wrapped up the slaughter, then set another fire before making their way through the streets and alleys toward the nearest assembly point.

Arriving at the base, group after group of martial artists in similar attire had already begun gathering here as well. People met on the training grounds, chatting idly about the great battle that had unfolded in the early hours of the morning — one figure after another discussing Meng Zhutao’s betrayal and assassination attempt, then the invincibility of the Holy Sect Leader, and then what was about to happen next.

“That bastard He Wen… what exactly is he trying to do?”

“Hahaha… he wants to set up some kind of government office to control us all.”

Amid such talk, the groups of men coming and going were mostly stained with blood on their clothes and weapons. Kuang Wenbo stood among a crowd of formidable fighters, watching all this unfold, and drew in a deep breath.

The rupture of the Fair Party’s five factions was about to begin, and heroes from across the realm were gathering here.

For a long time to come, this would probably remain the single greatest event the entire martial world had ever witnessed.

The Undying Guard, gathering in force!

…

The bleak, sharp air of deep autumn dispersed the morning light, stirring up the winds and clouds once more.

Within Jiangning, as time passed, signs of what was to come began appearing before people’s eyes.

“Undying Guard,” “Heaven’s Executioner,” “Great Slaughterer of Avici,” “Dragon Sage,” “Mayfly,” “White Rakshasa,” “Heavenly Treasure Pavilion,” “Sea-Guarding Guard,” “Lifeless Army”… banners that had already seemed terrifying in the past now flew unusually thick and dense today.

Groups of men began converging from different directions.

Other groups moved off cautiously in various directions.

People belonging to different factions passed through the streets, each seeming to carry some unspoken malice.

Crowds pressed thick near the city gates, people anxiously waiting to pass through, but in many places, the number of people allowed to exit seemed to be strictly limited — large crowds waited for what felt like ages without seeing any real movement ahead.

Envoys from various factions who had come from all over for this alliance waited in their respective locations to see how events would unfold; some headed instead to the city center, watching developments unfold from within some of the more raucous taverns and teahouses.

Those who sensed something ominous hurried home, rushing to build barricades, while people out on the streets felt this atmosphere with growing bewilderment. Amid this vast panorama of human experience, in front of what had once been the Five Lakes Inn, now reduced to ruins, three figures beside the small bridge archway had found shovels and were slowly, casually digging a pit in the ground — among them, the stooped Xue Jin and the young man named Long Aotian both still carried the stench of the river on their bodies.

As the young man shoveled dirt, he spoke of matters entirely unrelated to the current state of the city.

“…That’s how the Huaxia Army was, you know — it began its three-year war against the Jin forces and the puppet Qi court at Little Cang River…”

What he was recounting was the sequence of events that had unfolded involving that great southwestern demon lord, Ning Yi, after he had left Jiangning. Perhaps because he’d told this story so many times before, the young man’s tone was calm and easy, no different from a professional storyteller’s. Beside him, Xue Jin — who claimed to have once struck Ning Yi over the head — listened quietly, occasionally trembling from discomfort, while on the other side, the little bald monk, huffing and puffing as he dug the hardest, listened with the greatest fascination of all, his eyes going wide from time to time, letting out exclamations of “ohh, ahh,” and sometimes even clapping enthusiastically whenever the Huaxia Army won some battle against its enemies.

These stories sometimes touched on the state of affairs within the great demon lord’s own household, including recent developments concerning members of the Su family, the wise and capable matriarch Su Tan’er, and various matters handled by Su Wenfang, Su Wending, Su Wenyu, and Su Yanping. Perhaps because he’d once known these once-unpromising Su family relatives himself, Xue Jin’s reaction upon hearing about their current circumstances was the most intense of all — and at times, the tears streaming down his face were no longer for his dead wife Yueniang.

The three of them, still without breakfast, prepared to dig a pit in which to bury Yueniang.

Though he had pulled the suicidal Xue Jin out of the river, Ning Ji had no idea what to do next. Having revealed that he’d come from the southwest, all he could do was, from the perspective of a mere bystander, once again recount in detail his father’s actions and experiences over the years to Xue Jin. But what meaning could there possibly be in doing so? Even he himself couldn’t say.

And what should come next? Yueniang wasn’t the only one whose life had guttered down to its final flickering embers beneath this bridge arch, after so many days of prolonged illness and neglect. After burying Yueniang, how should he persuade the man to keep living — or rather, why should he even bother trying to persuade him to?

And a further, more fundamental fact remained: even if he did persuade him to keep living, would the man actually be able to survive?

He couldn’t work any of this out clearly in his mind, and could only keep calmly relating whatever he could think to say. After a long while, at some point, the three of them — still working at an unhurried pace — finally placed Yueniang’s body into the pit. On the riverbank above, the sounds of commotion from the nearby road, not far off, had gradually become more pronounced.

“What’s going on now, so early in the morning…”

The city’s clamor this morning hadn’t just started — for some time now, people had been coming and going along this road, and the group camped in the nearby ruins seemed anxious, occasionally speaking loudly to one another, apparently discussing something big about to happen. And so they went on banging away at scrap materials, building fences, piling up debris — quite an irritating racket…

And at this very moment, a more distinct sound began spreading toward this location…

…

September 22nd, morning, a quarter past the hour of Si.

The martial-world figures who had been waiting outside the great martial arts hall at the city center for the tournament to open never got their doors opened for them.

Given the strange atmosphere, the crowd gathered on this street wasn’t especially large. Some, having arrived, went instead to nearby taverns and teahouses, sitting by the windows to whisper among themselves while watching how events were unfolding.

“…I said it, didn’t I — something big was going to happen.”

“…After all that effort, announcing it to the whole world, with the top four finalists all decided… and now suddenly it’s just called off?”

“…Even if it’s called off, shouldn’t there at least be some kind of announcement? Where’s the Fair Party’s face going to go?”

“…In front of the whole world, their reputation’s just been dragged through the mud.”

“…The definite word is that the five factions are about to go to war.”

“…I heard the Great Radiance Sect’s Sect Leader made his move in the southern part of the city last night.”

Amid the low murmuring and discussion, the time arrived at what should have been the tournament’s official opening hour. Some began rising to leave, when they suddenly saw a small squad of riders come galloping in. The banners carried behind them belonged to “Fair King” and “Dragon Sage.”

This small squad arrived at the plaza in front of the great martial arts hall, dismounted, and stopped by the notice board along the road, pulling out a proclamation and posting it there.

“What’s that…”

The onlooking crowd was puzzled for a moment, but soon someone began reading the contents aloud in a loud voice.

“By order of the Fair King—”

“…In consideration of the Fair Party’s many past instances of lawlessness, disregard for the Fair Code, and indiscriminate slaughter of the innocent… a Fair Party Oversight Bureau is hereby established… which shall, in accordance with law, monitor and investigate any unlawful acts committed by any member of the Fair Party anywhere in the realm, with every complaint to be investigated and every investigation pursued to its conclusion…”

“What is this? What’s going on?”

“Sounds like… the Fair King’s setting up some new government office…”

“…As of today, Deputy Chief Seal-Holder of the Oversight Bureau, Xu Yongwei, shall oversee all oversight matters within Jiangning… His office shall henceforth be located at the old Wu Dynasty martial administration building in Jiangning… From this day forward, anyone within Fair Party territory who has suffered any injustice may come to this location and beat the drum to lodge their grievance… Anyone possessing evidence of unlawful acts committed by any Fair Party member may come here to report and request their arrest…”

“What’s going on.”

“No idea…”

Among the crowd, some frowned, some looked puzzled, and some began retreating backward, a look of sudden understanding dawning on their faces. Just at that moment, someone off to the side swung a great axe and brought it down on the post supporting the notice board, and with a tremendous crash, wood splinters went flying across the street.

Those who had just finished posting the proclamation hadn’t gone far yet, and turned back at the noise. The one in front suddenly drew his blade, while from within the nearby crowd, someone swung a massive hammer down at the group. The leader dodged just in time, but the man behind him wasn’t so lucky, sent flying with a spray of blood.

At that moment, countless sounds erupted up and down the street — some swinging axes, some swinging hammers, some drawing blades, some brandishing swords. Some of the martial-world figures scattered off into the distance, while others, who had been mingling within the crowd all along, suddenly began fighting each other in an instant.

The massive man who had just swung his hammer to send one of the notice-posters flying now punched down another figure who tried to ambush him from behind, then pinned a tall, thin man to the ground with his foot. As his companions ambushed the notice-posters, nearby at the notice board, the figure who’d wielded the great axe was run through by two swordsmen who’d rushed forward, only for those two to be ambushed in turn from behind — several figures locked in a chaotic melee, four or five men falling in this first savage exchange of blows.

In the blink of an eye, a whirlwind of ambushes and mutual slaughter erupted, the smell of blood filling the street, figures scattering apart and facing off against one another. The crowd heard the voice of the hammer-wielding master, his internal power surging forth, his bloodthirsty voice echoing through the street: “I am ‘Giant Spirit God’ Zuo Hao, under the banner of ‘Great Slaughterer of Avici’! Let it be known to all under heaven — He Wen has been bewitched by heretical talk, and without the consent of the Fair Party’s other factions, has issued this reckless, unauthorized decree! The matter of hearing grievances within the Fair Party already has its proper channels — it is not for He Wen to seize the opportunity for murder under this pretext! In Jiangning today, no one shall post this reckless decree—”

A similar voice rang out from beside the notice-posters: “You’re the ones committing rebellion here—”

Beside the notice board, a blood-covered figure stood swaying at the front: “I am Luan Bai of the ‘Reading Society.’ Whoever wishes to tear down this decree today will have to step over my body first!”

People far and near witnessed this scene unfold.

The bloody slaughter began.

At the very same moment, throughout the chaotic city, dozens of messengers were galloping on horseback, carrying this far-reaching, decisive decree that the Fair King had unilaterally issued, spreading it to the main streets throughout the city. Around these riders, waves of fighting and confrontation immediately broke out.

The Fair King intended to bring this decree before the eyes of every single person.

And the other four Great Kings intended to display this resolute killing and resistance for all the realm to see.

…

By the side of the bridge archway, the three figures slowly finished burying the body in the pit. They hadn’t yet begun filling in the dirt when they saw a blood-covered rider gallop past, shouting something as he went.

“…What did he say?”

“…Something about… a grievance?”

The little monk blinked.

…

At a spot slightly north of the city center, the old administrative office that had once belonged to the Wu Dynasty stood with peeling paint and a half-ruined entrance hall, but from last night until now, the space had gradually been cleared and cleaned up.

Xu Yongwei, the newly-appointed Deputy Chief Seal-Holder of the “Oversight Bureau,” was a lean, gaunt middle-aged man. He swept the road in front of the office and sprinkled it with some clean water. Very few people remained here with him — a small squad of soldiers, a few clerks — barely enough to constitute even a minor government office. But he paid this no mind, simply standing on the steps at the office entrance, waiting for people to arrive.

No ordinary commoners came.

Figures had already begun gathering along the roads near the old administrative office, and at this moment, a great many banners had begun unfurling along the several long streets surrounding this office. The subordinates of “Wheel King,” “Equality King,” “Heaven King,” and “Yama King” methodically sealed off every road in the vicinity, securing every wall of every courtyard around them.

“Cold Crow” Chen Juefang, who commanded the “Undying Guard” under “Wheel King”; “Character-of-Man” chief manager Jin Yongsheng under “Equality King”; “Mountain-Cleaving General” Luo Yan, the great vanguard commander under “Heaven King”; “Great Slaughterer of Avici” blade-master Peng Tiangang under “Yama King” — all of them arrived one after another, greeting Xu Yongwei.

“He Wen’s gone mad…”

“Standing alone against four, insisting on establishing some new ‘Fair Party.’ He claims that today, if anyone can actually make it here to lodge a grievance…”

“We all say — no way that’s possible…”

“Then today, we shall all watch very, very carefully to see…”

Street after street, courtyard after courtyard, banners fluttered as one master after another, including Great Radiance Sect leader Lin Zongwu himself, gradually took up their agreed-upon positions. Some began building street barricades, others set up wooden horse barriers, and thousands upon thousands of martial-world fighters, along with guest-experts and masters from every Fair Party faction, turned the area within a mile radius of this office into an impregnable fortress.

Outside the fortress, at every street corner and alley, people had begun to watch. Ordinary commoners felt an uneasy dread, thrill-seekers felt their blood surging with excitement, faction representatives who had come from all over watched coldly from the sidelines, and a great many martial-world figures, amid the sight of all those fluttering banners and famous names, felt their own blood beginning to boil with excitement — perhaps only those few masters who had fought their way to the tournament finals now felt a lingering sense of loss and disappointment at this development.

Having exhausted the vast resources of all Jiangnan, the Fair Party had, at this very moment, finally reached the point of complete rupture. And upon this grand, already-constructed stage, the entire realm would now witness the deepest inclinations of the human heart laid bare.

Scattered, warm-up-like skirmishes had already begun spreading through the distant parts of the city.

A tall, imposing figure emerged from the fortifications held by “Wheel King’s” faction and began addressing the crowd in the street.

“I am the Great Radiance Sect’s guardian, ‘Heaven Blade’ Tan Zheng! The Jiangning assembly was meant to be a gathering of all Fair Party factions, to jointly discuss matters going forward. Yet He Wen, bewitched by the Reading Society’s heretical talk, has acted unilaterally, plotting to seize power for himself. This so-called Oversight Bureau he’s established is meant to eliminate his enemies, forcing all Fair Party factions to obey his orders alone without any consultation whatsoever… This man’s mind has been consumed by lust for power — he has truly gone mad—”

His voice, amplified by his internal power, echoed far and wide, and at the same time, similar proclamations had already begun spreading throughout other parts of the city.

“Monkey King” Li Yanfeng, dressed in a short gray-blue outfit, walked along the streets outside the “fortress” perimeter, scrutinizing the faces in the taverns and teahouses along the road, occasionally memorizing the locations of a few suspicious-looking courtyards…

Ding Songnan, atop a distant rooftop, was surveying the scene of the city through a spyglass…

Having arranged the departure route for the delegation members, An Xifu, having lightly disguised himself, made his way toward the increasingly turbulent parts of the city, searching for the missing delegation members…

At the intersection where Tan Zheng stood loudly proclaiming his message, the target An Xifu was searching for happened to be crossing through the roadside crowd together with You Hongzhuo, and at one point, they even brushed shoulders with “Monkey King,” who was patrolling the area.

Amid the crowd at this moment, all manner of figures moved about with their own hidden purposes. You Hongzhuo, carrying a blade on his back, and the tall, slender Liang Siyi didn’t particularly stand out either. The two of them circled the area, spotting Tan Zheng, Chen Juefang, the Undying Guard members… and various other forces present…

Fourth senior brother Kuang Wenbo, wearing his fearsome mask covering the lower half of his face, stood on the second floor of a house at the outer edge of this “fortress,” surveying the streets below with disdain, his hand resting on his steel whip — his peculiar appearance lending him an especially formidable, commanding presence…

Figures with well-known names and figures without, dozens upon hundreds of factions large and small from all over, countless calculations and hidden malice, all now intertwined with one another. As the crowds continued to gather, the rooftops near and far had gradually filled up with onlookers eager to watch the spectacle unfold. Escorted by Yue Yun, Yinping, and the others, Zuo Xiuquan climbed up to a teahouse at the corner of a small plaza, and there, encountered an unexpected figure.

He walked over with a smile, cupped his hands toward the man and those around him, and sat down at the table.

“Eighth Brother Qian, it’s been a while…”

As the old man spoke, looking out the teahouse window, above Jiangning stretched a forest of unfurled banners. Among them, the most prominent of all was the war banner symbolizing Great Radiance Sect leader Lin Zongwu, surrounded and supported on all sides — carrying with it the awe-inspiring weight of the “greatest master under heaven” he’d held for many years now, like a blazing sun about to bear down and quell every ripple of unrest within Jiangning at this moment.

Gathering together the most elite martial artists of all Jiangnan, presiding over several thousand men — this was a position even Zhou Tong, in his time, had never achieved.

…

“With Ning the Butcher not here in person, can you all really pull down this banner?”

The two sides exchanged a few friendly words.

At one point, Zuo Xiuquan curiously posed this question.

The teahouse fell silent.

Some of the younger men glanced at him with complicated expressions.

This old man’s wounded their pride, hasn’t he.

I’m just too blunt for my own good, this old man of mine.

Zuo Xiuquan picked up his teacup, understanding this immediately, and reflected on it.

“Heh heh, it’s nothing serious, really — the situation in Jiangnan has little to do with Jiangning at this point anymore…”

As a venerable, respected elder, he offered this reassurance with a smile.

Qian Luoning thought it over for a moment, then turned his head.

“Lord Zuo, this… we’re not here to fight…”

“This old man understands…”

Zuo Xiuquan smiled, and exchanged a polite laugh with the other party.

…

At some point, they rose from their seats.

…

The raging storm had arrived.