By the time the party from Crouching Tiger Manor returned to Blackstone Stronghold, the sky had begun to darken.
The sun sank in the west, its lingering glow spilling over the clearing outside the gates and staining the thick wooden palisade a dusky red.
The gates remained tightly shut. When the figures on the watchtower saw them return, they panicked and scrambled down to report it.
Moments later, the gates rumbled open.
The people of Blackstone Stronghold poured out, their faces frightened, as though confronting a formidable enemy.
At their head was Blackie, the man Mo Yun had sent flying with a single punch earlier.
His face was still pale, and dried blood stained the front of his clothes. His burly frame trembled slightly, but he still forced himself to stand at the front.
"M-my lords of Crouching Tiger Manor..."
Blackie's voice shook. His once-fierce eyes were now filled with fear and remorse.
He dropped to his knees with a thud and slammed his forehead against the dirt. "I know I was wrong! I should never have attacked you, my lords! Kill me or carve me up, and I won't utter a word of protest! Just please don't take your anger out on Blackstone Stronghold!"
The twenty or thirty hammer-wielding men behind him all knelt in unison.
"Please show mercy, my lords!"
"Blackie lost his head! He didn't mean it!"
"Blackstone Stronghold is willing to compensate you! We'll pay more rent!"
Fear and pleading covered their dark, weathered faces. Their cries rose one after another, echoing through the dusk.
Standing behind Commander Li, Mo Yun watched the scene with mixed feelings.
Not long ago, these men had looked like savage fiends, brandishing weapons and ready to fight them to the death.
Now they knelt on the ground, begging forgiveness like