The sky had completely darkened. The camp's fire basins blazed to life, burning the night into a chaotic gray.
Assassinating Lu Wangji, killing Zhou Ye, beheading Chen Lincuan, severing Qun Yushu's arm—any one of these events would have been enough to shake Liang Kingdom's government and aristocracy, turning countless lives upside down and forcing many interests to be redistributed. Yet now, they had happened one after another, as though it were only natural. No one cared.
The servants, soldiers, and scions of the various families in the camp were so stingy with their attention that they did not spare even a glance for the losers of this battle. Everyone held their breath and stared at the sole victor, quietly awaiting her declaration.
The Great Noble Families had lost. The Third Rank Herald had fallen.
The commoner Black Belt had won. The Second Turn Messenger stood atop the forest.
When such an unbelievable scene unfolded before their eyes, everyone quickly accepted reality. Some fled, some were afraid, but more wore sincere approval on their faces. When the weak improved, you praised her. When the weak became your equal, you felt uncomfortable. When the weak surpassed you, you grew jealous and even came to hate her. When the weak trampled the strong in your understanding, you began to worship her.
Dignity was merely a product of circumstance. A moment ago, dignity had demanded that you hate her, but the next moment, dignity insisted that you respect her. Nine Ranks, status, bloodline—those mental brands implanted by years of social conditioning all vanished without a trace at this moment, leaving only an instinctive longing for the strong... People were not as rational as they imagined.
The person present with the most complicated feelings was probably Jie Yuanshao.
At first, she had felt sympathy, indignant