Misaligned Force Deterrence, the New King is Forced to Fulfill His Promise

The oil lamp's flame flickered against the stone walls. The residual warmth of the Heavenly Machine Token had yet to fade from Chen Wuya's sleeve. His fingertips still retained the sluggish sensation from when he had probed the captive's meridians—a current of true qi seemed nailed fast within the sinews, ready to lash back at the slightest movement.

Bai Zhi stood half a step behind him. Her sword remained sheathed, but her hand was already on its hilt. Her gaze swept over the rebel commander lying on the ground, bound hand and foot. The corners of the man's mouth still twitched; clearly, he was forcing himself to endure the pain.

"Wolf Head..." Chen Wuya repeated the words softly, as though squeezing them through clenched teeth. "It isn't a name. It's a command."

The moment the words fell, orderly footsteps sounded beyond the altar, making the ground tremble faintly. A formation of heavily armored guards entered, surrounding the newly crowned foreign king in black-and-gold battle robes. The composure he had shown at his ascension was gone. His gaze was as cold as a frozen lake.

"The man you seized is a centurion from the Northern Border garrison." The new king spoke quietly, yet his voice suppressed the entire underground chamber. "Detaining an officer without leave, intercepting a military tally—Chen Wuya, are you forcing my hand?"

Chen Wuya neither moved nor knelt. He merely raised his hand slowly, placed the charred military tally upon a broken fragment of incense burner, then spread out the sheepskin map and tapped the mark denoting the western gate.

"He is a suicide operative, branded with a 'Prison Oath Mark.'" He said, "At the third quarter of the Hour of the Pig tonight, they intend to open the western gate and receive someone inside. If I had