A Night of Killing

Ji Town had fallen; for three days, no blade would be sheathed.

They said three days, but in reality, before even a single day had passed, all of Ji Town had become a living hell. The sound of weapons cleaving flesh mingled with the dying screams. Grassland armored soldiers, their eyes blood-red, prowled through the streets, searching for every possible survivor.

Blood flooded the ground, gathering into little streams.

It was not that no one had questioned Hexi Qing's order. Muer Shu, who followed at Hexi Qing's side, had once offered his counsel on the matter. War, in the end, was fought with money and grain. Keeping those survivors as slaves was better than slaughtering them all like this.

"Besides, the chieftains of the Azure Sheep Tribe will have objections as well."

That was the most important reason. The Azure Sheep Tribe had not joined this southern campaign just to let their warriors die for nothing. Gold and silver, treasures, fertile fields and fair lands, and even these Southern slaves—those were the greatest reasons the Azure Sheep Tribe had been willing to send troops.

No one wanted to fight a losing war. No one wanted to grow poorer with every battle.

Yet with a single order from Hexi Qing, these Southerners, who were meant to become spoils of war, were all to be slaughtered.

"What is the problem with that?"

Hexi Qing's blood-red eyes were calm.

"Or do you think that after we slaughter them all, the Azure Sheep Tribe will still dare come and demand a share from us?"

Muer Shu found himself speechless.

Looking into those crimson eyes, like ghostly flames, Muer Shu suddenly realized that this man, clear and boundless as the sky, had never intended to submit to the Azure Sheep Tribe from the very beginning.

The Azure Sheep Tribe was merely a stepping stone. A man named Hexi Qing would never stoop beneath another.

Warriors had once whispered in private that this bastard born of a northern desert man and a Southerner was unworthy of high position, that his blood carried the stupidity of the northern deserts and the cowardice of the South.

But at this moment, Muer Shu clearly sensed that what flowed through the man called Hexi Qing was the ferocity of the northern deserts and the cunning of the South.

Fierce as a tiger, cunning as a fox—this was Hexi Qing's way of war. At a moment no one had anticipated, this man named Hexi Qing had led only his own troops and shattered the Jizhou Governor's Office, which was nearly equal in strength to the Azure Sheep Tribe.

So once the warriors under his command had been baptized in bloodlust again, becoming ever less human, could the mere Azure Sheep Tribe truly stand against them?

"Hard to say. Don't get too pleased with yourself."

Just as Muer Shu was swelling with pride in the great general he followed, the man named Hexi Qing shook his head.

"The reason this surprise attack succeeded was, plainly put, that the enemy was in the light while we were in the shadows. Before all of Jizhou had made preparations—before even the Azure Sheep Tribe had reacted—I led our men here and broke the city with one blow... If the Jizhou Governor's Office had been prepared, or even if Liu Yanran's condition had not inexplicably declined at the time, this battle could not possibly have ended so quickly."

"That only proves that Eldest Brother bears a radiant mandate of heaven."

This was no joke. Muer Shu believed it from the bottom of his heart. After all, that Southerner Liu Yanran had been stationed by the Southern Chen court at the border to contend with the northern Azure Sheep Tribe, so he surely possessed considerable ability—yet even such a commander had been killed by Hexi Qing in a single stroke.

True, one could say that Liu Yanran's condition had worsened from lack of sleep, but dead was dead.

If that was not the mandate of heaven, then what was?

"Do not believe in things like the mandate of heaven. They are all lies fabricated by shamans to deceive the world."

As he spoke, Hexi Qing gripped the hilt of the blade at his waist.

"We are warriors, Muer Shu. We do not need to believe in any mandate of heaven. We need only believe in ourselves—in the blades in our hands."

"...Eldest Brother!"

Muer Shu dropped excitedly to one knee, allowing Hexi Qing to rest his drawn saber against his shoulder.

This was the most sincere oath of loyalty. With the saber laid upon his shoulder, a light sweep was all it took to sever Muer Shu's head—yet Muer Shu did not care in the slightest. At this moment, even if Hexi Qing wanted him dead, Muer Shu would not hesitate.

Yet just as this sacred ritual of loyalty had begun, it was interrupted by a soldier who suddenly burst in.

"Eldest Brother! Something has happened!"

A grassland warrior with crimson eyes charged into the tent in panic.

"Southerners are killing our warriors! Fifteen have already been killed!"

"...So you ran all the way back here?"

Hexi Qing frowned.

"Are they not merely some martial artists and wandering heroes from Jizhou? Why did you not kill them?"

"Yes, why didn't you just kill them?"

Muer Shu rose as well, his expression solemn.

Jizhou's people were known for their abundant martial spirit, even on the grasslands. But to the grassland commanders, these civilian martial artists seemed more like a second line of defense deliberately left in place by the Jizhou Governor's Office.

In ordinary times, these civilian martial artists could resist raids and safeguard the land and its people. When critical times came—such as now, with Ji Town fallen—they would become armed forces roaming in the shadows, waiting for an opportunity to strike viciously at the grassland warriors.

But that was precisely where the problem lay.

If they had merely been men of the Azure Sheep Tribe, then perhaps it would have been understandable for them to run back and report resistance. But as soldiers under Hexi Qing, as northern desert eagles nurtured in bloodlust, how dared they flee back like this?

"Did you lose your nerve?"

As he spoke, Muer Shu's large hand had already clamped around the grassland warrior's throat.

"Did you desert?"

"No, I... I didn't..."

The grassland warrior, lifted into the air, struggled to breathe.

"I didn't desert. It was that man, that man... he was holding A Xuan's axe..."

"Hm?"

The grassland warrior fell from Muer Shu's hand, and Muer Shu froze.

"You said... A Xuan?"

Muer Shu could not help turning to look at Hexi Qing.

The one who had killed Hexi Xuan actually dared to come here?

Yet at that very moment, Hexi Qing began to laugh.

"If it is A Xuan's axe, then it is only natural that you could not defeat him. That axe has already killed far too many people. What you faced cannot be measured by ordinary reasoning."

Though his voice remained calm, Hexi Qing's eyes had turned blood-red at some point.

"So you were right to come back this time. This is indeed something only I can handle."

He sheathed his blade and strode out of the tent.

With that aura of baleful menace, he looked like a vicious ghost that had crawled out of the Ninefold Nether Hell.

"Muer Shu, prepare my horse... You there, where is the one who took A Xuan's axe now?"

"North side of town! Outside the camp!"

The grassland warrior raised a hand and pointed.

"That monster has just fought his way in!"

Before his words had even fallen, Hexi Qing had already heard the distant cries of battle.

And the flames soaring into the sky.

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