What You Take From Me, You'll Pay With Your Life

Since ancient times, the people do not contend with officials; an official has two mouths, one above and one below, able to twist black into white and white into black.

A single phrase—'you have ties to the Black Lotus Society'—could have you sentenced to death in an instant.

These men truly kill without blinking an eye; stirring up trouble with them is nothing short of seeking death.

Thus, no matter how much the hearts of Black Iron Stronghold's people bled, they could only watch helplessly as the other party carried off every weapon the stronghold had forged.

The Commander clasped his hands behind his back, strolling through the stronghold until he reached the main hall, where his gaze casually swept over the Godslayer Sword in Lu Wangchuan's hand, and his eyes lit up.

"Fine sword!"

He strode forward in large steps and said coldly, "Boy, this seat is commandeering the sword in your hand."

Lu Wangchuan's expression remained indifferent. "This is a sword I bought with my own money, not forged by Black Iron Stronghold."

The Stronghold Master also stepped forward to plead. "Commander, you may take any sword from my stronghold, but please do not seize the sword from my client's hand. If you do, the reputation of Black Iron Stronghold will be utterly ruined."

In this chaotic age, reputation was more precious than anything else.

If word got out that a customer of Black Iron Stronghold had been robbed within its walls, who would ever dare to commission a sword here again? That would be the true blow to Black Iron Stronghold.

Unfortunately, the other party paid no heed to his reasoning.

"Get out of my way! If others can't take it, does that mean I can't? Besides, I'm not taking his sword for the sake of theft—I'm doing it to suppress rebels.

All the weapons in Black Iron Stronghold, this seat is requisitioning! Not a single exception."

With that, he placed one hand on the Godslayer Sword.

Lu Wangchuan's gaze was calm. "I suggest you don't touch that."

"Oh? Boy, are you defying orders too? Could it be that you're in league with the Black Lotus Society?"

The Big Beard Commander's tone carried a threat, but Lu Wangchuan's eyes remained utterly still.

After a moment, he released his grip.

The other party was merely at the late peak of the Source Opening Realm, still a hair's breadth away from the Dantian Realm. Killing him would be effortless.

But the problem was the crowd—over a thousand soldiers alone, not to mention the disciples of Black Iron Stronghold.

He was no murderous fiend; he couldn't slaughter everyone.

If word leaked that he had killed an Imperial Court Commander, he'd likely end up on a wanted list in no time.

A starved camel is still bigger than a horse; Da Qian still had many experts. Lu Wangchuan had no desire to stir up unnecessary trouble.

Let him take it for now. He'd deal with it when no one was around.

Seeing him let go, the other man's face broke into a smug grin.

"That's right. Learn to serve the nation. Under heaven, all land is the king's land; across the shores, all men are the king's subjects. What's yours or mine? It's all Da Qian's. If necessary, even you belong to Da Qian. Hahahaha."

With that, he laughed arrogantly and left.

After the crowd dispersed, the Stronghold Master, full of guilt, cupped his hands and bowed to Lu Wangchuan in apology.

"Young hero, today it is entirely my Black Iron Stronghold's fault for failing to protect your sword. My stronghold is willing to forge you a new Godslayer Sword, but in these chaotic times, we cannot gather the materials immediately. Could you grant us some leeway?"

Lu Wangchuan saw that the man was honest and chose not to make things difficult for him. "No matter."

"Thank you, young hero."

Time quickly passed to nightfall. Heavy rain poured down, thunder and lightning flashed, and all the soldiers in the camp took shelter in their tents.

Inside the tents, lamps burned brightly with sheep fat oil. The tables were piled high with fragrant roasted meats—beef, lamb, pork ribs, roast chicken, roast duck. Uneaten, succulent meat fell to the floor, trampled into mud.

The soldiers drank fine wine and feasted heartily.

"Brothers, the Imperial Court won't pay our wages—what do we do?"

"Loot!"

"The Imperial Court won't ship us rations—what do we do?"

"Loot!"

"The Imperial Court won't give us weapons or armor—what then?"

"Still loot!"

"Haha, well said! Those corrupt officials in the court dare to withhold our pay and grain, so we'll loot the commoners' gold, jewels, chickens, ducks, cattle, and sheep. Only when we're full can we fight the Black Lotus Society and earn our merits. When the war ends, we'll all be decorated with military honors, become officials ourselves, and live worry-free for life."

"Follow the Grand Commander—drink, eat meat, rise in rank, and get rich!"

The men raised their arms and shouted with excitement, their fervent cries lasting until midnight, when the revelry gradually subsided.

By then, the thunder grew louder, drowning out the deafening snores that filled the camp.

Lightning flashed, and a dark shadow silently slipped into the military camp. Before long, Zhang San, an old soldier woken by the urge to urinate, was about to get up when he suddenly felt a chill at his neck—a large hand locked tight around it.

Shock made cold sweat pour down his entire body. Just as he was about to call out, he realized that aside from the occasional thunderclap, the entire tent was eerily silent—normally, it would be filled with thunderous snoring.

The nearly hundred soldiers in this tent were all dead.

"Don't shout. I ask, you answer, and I'll spare your life."

Zhang San nodded.

"That Dragon Scale Patterned Sword you looted during the day—where is it?"

"To answer, sir, it's in the Grand Commander's tent. He can't put it down and plans to keep it for himself."

"Which tent is his?"

"The small tent to the left of the Central Army Tent. The Grand Commander is suspicious by nature and cautious in his actions; he never stays in the main tent."

The moment the words fell, Lu Wangchuan twisted his neck clean off.

Zhang San's eyes bulged wide, his face full of disbelief, as if to say, You broke your word.

In truth, Lu Wangchuan had never intended to let him go. Keeping faith with a villain only hastens one's own death.

By the light of the lightning, Lu Wangchuan darted swiftly through the camp and soon reached the small tent to the left of the Central Army Tent.

He slipped inside silently, and a cold gleam immediately rushed toward his face.

Lu Wangchuan tilted his head slightly, dodging with ease. The cold light grazed past his ear and pierced through the tent's leather.

"Hmph, you've got some tricks—actually dodged that."

"You've got some tricks too."

Lu Wangchuan stared coldly at the Grand Commander sitting on the bed.

The other man smirked.

"I sleep with half an eye open, or how else would I have survived this long? During the day at Black Iron Stronghold, your look told me you wouldn't let it go. I knew you'd steal it within a few days."

He drew the Godslayer Sword from beside the bed, gazing at the captivating dragon scale pattern on it, the corner of his mouth lifting.

With a casual swing, the sword let out a sharp whistle in the air, easily slicing through an arm-thick brass candlestick beside him. The cut was smooth and flat, like two mirrors.

"Such a fine sword—wasted on a brat like you. Better leave it to me."

As he spoke, a fierce glint flashed in his eyes. He stomped his foot, and his body shot up, charging straight at Lu Wangchuan.

His peak Source Opening Realm strength unleashed speed completely mismatched with his burly frame—fast as lightning.

A cold gleam flickered in the air, and he was already behind Lu Wangchuan.

Yet the smile on his face slowly faded, turning into terror. His eyes bulged wide, filled with utter disbelief.

Boom—!

A lightning bolt struck down, illuminating his horrified face and the neck spurting blood like a fountain—where, at some point, two bloody holes had appeared.

Lu Wangchuan retrieved the Godslayer Sword from his hand.

"What use are all those little tricks? If your strength isn't up to par, everything else is just empty talk!"

Thank you to reader 20210604103907065 and reader Gong Caomei for the tips—my deepest gratitude.