Early the next morning, far away on the southern front, inside Tuoba Zhen's command tent.
A trusted general strode in with a grave expression, dropped to one knee, and spoke with a barely perceptible tremor in his voice. "Great Khan, the Death Squad sent to Grand Duke Andrei's territory last night was wiped out. Not a single man survived."
"What?!" Tuoba Zhen jerked his head up from the map, his eyes blazing with disbelief. "Not one of them came back? How is that possible? I painstakingly trained that squad myself. Every man was an expert in infiltration and assassination! Even if their mission failed, surely one of them could have escaped to bring back word!"
The general kept his head bowed, not daring to meet Tuoba Zhen's furious gaze. "Great Khan, our scouts waited at the rendezvous point all night without receiving any word. This morning, they risked approaching to investigate. They found signs of fierce fighting on the outskirts of the target area, along with special marks left by our men and a few bloodstains. But the bodies had all been disposed of cleanly. Whoever did it was extremely seasoned."
Tuoba Zhen's face darkened as though it could drip water. His fists clenched, his knuckles turning white.
The facts lay before him. He had no choice but to believe them.
He had originally planned to eliminate Sergei, the culprit who had cut his supply lines, then install a puppet to control Andrei's territory and put out the fire burning at his brows. He had never expected to kick an iron plate on his very first step.
"Sergei's master really does have some skill!" Tuoba Zhen ground out through clenched teeth. As he spoke, a fierce urge to fight rose within him. He wanted to deal with this fellow named