Ever since the Ghost Samurai had failed to cause trouble and gotten fucked instead, he hadn't come knocking on Fang Cheng's door again. He'd gone quiet.
There had been no more news of Oni Rakshasa and the Ghost Princess arguing in the Iron-Cast Palace, either. The two sides seemed to have made peace.
Everything had settled down. The Iron-Cast Palace had returned to stability and prosperity, and the ominous atmosphere from before had completely vanished.
But as long as the Ghost Lord didn't show his face, the crisis hadn't truly passed. If anything, this could be the calm before the storm.
None of this had anything to do with Fang Cheng. Following the Landlady's instructions, he stayed home every day to train his abilities, keeping a low profile.
Every now and then, he sent out a few sparrows to check on the situation nearby.
Another five days passed.
It was late that night, around two in the morning.
Fang Cheng had just finished showering and was about to go to bed when he suddenly heard faint noises outside, apparently coming from far away.
He threw on some clothes and hurried to the balcony, looking toward the source of the sounds.
The brightly lit Iron-Cast Palace stood out against the night. Countless lights streamed out through the palace gates and poured down the mountain road. Faint shouts drifted over.
A coup? Or a civil war?
A few troubling possibilities crossed Fang Cheng's mind.
He used the Blood Beast Nest to create a falcon, which shot into the sky and flew toward the summit of Sounkyo.
The falcon was fast. Once it was within its maximum range of two kilometers, it finally got a clear view of what was happening below.
A large group of Ghost Clan soldiers rode motorcycles through the