Public Revelation, Quelling Military Rumors

Morning light had barely climbed the camp walls when Chen Wuya was already standing at the edge of the drill ground's raised platform. The cloth bag in his hand remained unopened, his knuckles still clenched tight around it. Last night's secret letter, along with the charred scrap of cloth, was sealed inside like a lump of charcoal that could never burn through.

When the training horn sounded, the entire army formed ranks. The new king of the tribes stood on the main platform, his gaze sweeping across the commanders as he prepared to speak. Chen Wuya suddenly raised a hand. His voice was not loud, yet it pierced through the wind. "There is something that needs to be made clear before roll call."

The entire grounds fell silent for a moment.

The new king frowned. Before he could grant permission, Chen Wuya had already stepped forward on his own, pulled out the letter, and unfolded it beneath the sunlight. "Last night, someone transported ten barrels of fire oil to the old stables, intending to burn the granaries and force Your Majesty to retreat—this order came from Commander C."

The crowd erupted in uproar.

Commander C stood at the front side of the formation. His expression changed sharply, and he abruptly stepped half a pace forward. "You're spitting blood!"

"Whether I'm spitting blood can be determined with one investigation." Chen Wuya remained calm as he held one corner of the letter to a tinder flame. The fire licked across it, and a wolf-shaped secret seal slowly emerged—four claws wreathed in fire, identical in every detail to the mark used by the Burning Wolf Rite's death-sworn warriors.

He lifted his eyes to Commander C. "You feared those below would not believe you, so you used the secret seal to steady their hearts.