After the envoy left, the council hall fell silent once more.
The chiefs exchanged glances. Old Ghost Zhong, the Fourth Chief, coughed, his tone low.
"Big Brother, this Wu Heng... can he truly be trusted?"
A cold gleam flickered in Luo Xiong's eyes, his voice deep.
"Whether he can be trusted... isn't important."
He slowly sat back down in the tiger-skin chair, his gaze as deep as an abyss.
"As long as he can help me win this battle, that's enough."
He muttered to himself, as though speaking to others, yet also trying to convince himself.
If I can use this chance to break through to the sixth rank, I, Luo Xiong, will no longer be a dog of the Bai Family...
The world is vast. I can go anywhere.
Then his eyes flashed like lightning as they swept over the chiefs below. He slowly rose, one hand pressing down on his saber hilt, his tone icy.
"From this moment on, the entire stockade is to be on alert—Level Three combat status. Pass down the order: seal off all mountain roads along the Third Path, Fifth Path, and Seventh Path. Reset the traps along the routes. Fully poison the scorpions, caltrops, and flying-needle channels."
Huang Kunlun, the Third Chief, cupped his hands. "Yes!"
Luo Xiong turned to Old Ghost Zhong, the Fourth Chief. The old man's face was ash-gray, his back slightly hunched, and he leaned on a bone cane. He was, in truth, a hidden eighth-rank expert within the stockade.
"Old Ghost Zhong, guard the inner hall at the mountain gate. If anyone tries to force their way in, kill them."
Old Ghost Zhong grinned, the wrinkles on his face twisting into a ghostly mask. "Heh heh, understood."
Luo Xiong looked next at Lin Bao, the Fifth Chief—a bare-chested