Call the shots?
Of course, Fang Qianyuan had no shots to call.
He was indeed dissatisfied with the Warrior Hall, but he knew that, unless they had no other choice, the sect's higher-ups would not have continued turning a deaf ear and a blind eye to it until now.
Though this was a policy of appeasement born of weakness and concession, with a great war imminent, they could only proceed this way.
"Brother Fang, the city lord here seems to have suffered at the Warriors' hands. They made us suffer terribly last time, too, costing us our frontline positions for nothing. I'm not saying we absolutely have to retaliate, but letting them remain beyond your control, unable to serve you, is no solution in the long run."
After the welcoming banquet, the Shang household arranged for Fang Qianyuan and the others to stay in a magnificent residence in the Eastern District. This estate had been built by another aristocratic clan surnamed Ma. Supposedly, these Mas were related to the Ma Household to which Ma Su, the former commander of the Vanguard Camp, belonged-a branch of the same lineage that had spread its boughs and leaves, relocating here to develop.
After dismissing the maidservants, Fang Qianyuan strolled at leisure through the inner courtyard, admiring the gardens. Wen Qingfei accompanied him, and inevitably, they discussed the matter.
"I know we can't let this continue either, but it looks as though we'll have to prepare for the worst." Fang Qianyuan sighed softly. "Leaving aside how vastly Warriors differ from orthodox Spirit Tamers, and how they are naturally divided from us in heart and purpose, years of humiliation and exploitation have deepened the conflict until we became as incompatible as fire and water long ago. This time, they've finally found a chance to vent