C11 Who Said We Have to Guard It?

Just outside the Mausoleum of the Prince Chiang, within a lengthy stone corridor, a cadre of assassins with white cloth bands tied around their wrists advanced toward the tunnel. The flickering wall torches cast a serene glow on their faces. The guards stationed at the tunnel's entrance caught sight of the lead figure and greeted him with a knowing smile, "Ah, Hall Master Yeh Ying graces us with his presence. What brings Hall Master Yeh Ying to this place? Has the Palace Lord sent you to inspect the tunnel?"

Yeh Ying, slight of build and lacking an imposing presence, was nevertheless revered within the Killing Palace. Known as a cultivator of the Dao Entering Stage, he had waged war on their behalf for a decade, earning his stripes through tireless service. But now was not the time for idle chatter. Yeh Ying deftly produced a white cloth from his robes, wrapping it around his arm. Sensing something awry, the guard's realization dawned too late. Yeh Ying had already drawn his long saber, his voice thundering, "Kill! Leave no survivors!"

As a Dao Entering Stage cultivator, Yeh Ying should have been among the protectors of the tunnel. However, the Palace Lord had summoned the usual guardians away for a crucial council. Yeh Ying was well aware of the gravity of the situation – the mustering of forces to besiege the capital. This absence presented Yeh Ying with the perfect window to strike.

Brandishing his chilling blade, Yeh Ying cleaved a guard in two, then pressed on, his saber dripping with blood. His swordsmanship was notoriously unpredictable, instilling dread even in fellow Dao Entering Stage masters. To him, dispatching these Dao Enlightening Stage cultivators was akin to a tiger descending upon a flock of sheep.

After swiftly dispatching three more, Yeh Ying called out to his followers, "Finish them quickly, or we forfeit our chance to withdraw!"

His entourage, over a hundred strong, surged toward the tunnel, their sabers clashing with the outnumbered guards. Under Yeh Ying's formidable lead, the opposition stood no chance. In less time than it takes to sip a cup of tea, the ground was awash with a river of blood.

Yeh Ying surveyed the tunnel. To ensure a swift withdrawal for the army, the passageways were far from narrow and were reinforced with wooden supports. With a brief glance, Yeh Ying gestured and commanded, "Split all these load-bearing timbers."

He had brought his best troops, and for them, slicing through the timbers was a simple task.

As the load-bearing logs were severed one after another, destroying a hundred-zhang stretch, his assassins retreated. Yeh Ying, observing the fissured tunnel ceiling, leapt up and struck the top with his palm. Boom! The tunnel, deprived of its wooden braces, crumbled thunderously.

Yeh Ying nodded, pleased, and signaled, "Move out, we break through now!"

A confidant inquired from behind, "Lord Yeh Ying, can we truly prevail in this battle? We could have retreated after the Assassin Palace was exposed, but with the tunnel now ruined, they're trapped. And the Prince has mustered no more than 30,000 troops."

Yeh Ying cast a frosty look at his aide and barked, "Remember, we are soldiers. Our duty is to obey orders, not to question whether victory is within reach. Move out!"

Inside the Killing Palace's Hall Master's tomb chamber.

The Palace Lord, seated at the head, addressed the Hall Masters, "Have all the Hall Masters assembled?"

A guard replied, "We're only missing Hall Master Yeh Ying."

Unconcerned, the Palace Lord responded, "We can't wait for him. Inform him later."

Rising to his feet, the Palace Lord announced with a grin, "I know you've all been curious about who I am. Today, I'll reveal my true identity!"

He removed the bronze mask, unveiling his face to the astonished Hall Masters below. None had anticipated that their Killing Palace's leader was the Crown Prince himself!

With a smile, the Palace Lord proclaimed, "Indeed, I am the Crown Prince of Yan Kingdom. The Prince Regent has rebelled, flouting the imperial edict and showing contempt for the throne—the most treacherous since our nation's founding. Yet, as evil begets evil, his own son follows in his footsteps, plotting his own insurrection. But the schemes of men pale against the will of the heavens. Now, with the Prince Regent and the Great General both grievously weakened from their conflict, we are presented with the perfect chance to restore order!"

The Hall Masters had resigned themselves to a life in the shadows, convinced their true identities would never see the light of day. But now, an opportunity had arisen to clear their names, and it turned out they were serving none other than the Crown Prince himself!

What's more, it appeared they had a real shot at setting things right and restoring the royal family to its rightful place at the helm of the empire. When that happened, they would be hailed as loyal defenders of the crown—a far cry from their current, rat-like existence.

Together, the Hall Masters knelt and pledged, "We will assuredly aid the Crown Prince in righting the wrongs and reinstating the royal family to glory!"

The Palace Lord nodded, deeply moved. "We've waited so long for this day—ten years. At last, it has come. Hahaha, very well, let us all drink to this moment!"

With that, the Palace Lord lifted his wine cup, joining the Hall Masters in a toast. Just then, a guard hurried in with alarming news: "Palace Lord, disaster has struck. Hall Master Yeh Ying has destroyed the tunnel!"

The Palace Lord was taken aback, his anger flaring instantly. He hurled his wine cup to the ground, shattering it, and bellowed, "That traitor Yeh Ying dares to rebel? Seize him at once!"

Before the command could be carried out, a scout entered the tomb chamber and bowed to the Palace Lord: "The Prince Regent, leading an army of thirty thousand, has reached the Gourd Pass!"

The Palace Lord smirked. "Chen Ming, isn't it? Quite the audacious move. Are you certain his forces number only thirty thousand?"

The scout replied, "There's been no movement from the rest of the Flying Tiger Army, and even if they were to come, they'd need at least three to five days to prepare."

Laughing heartily, the Palace Lord exclaimed, "What need have I for tunnels? He probably thinks our Killing Palace has a mere three thousand men. He expects us to flee at the sight of his thirty thousand? Nonsense. I command a force of one hundred thousand, and we hold the terrain advantage. Thirty thousand against one hundred thousand—Chen Ming must have a death wish. Issue my orders: assemble the army and prepare to apprehend Chen Ming. Alive or dead, whoever captures him shall be made a king!"

"If he seeks death, then we shall grant him clarity in his final moments!"

Upon hearing the words "ascend to the throne," the Hall Masters' eyes blazed with fervor. And when the name "Chen Ming" reached their ears, it wasn't just a name to them—it signified the crown itself.

"I will, no, I shall personally apprehend Chen Ming at once!" one declared.

Meanwhile, Chen Ming himself was far from frantic. He sat with ease atop a mighty tiger, when suddenly, a glow flared up in the direction of the Mausoleum of the Prince Chiang. Wang Meng reported, "Your Highness, it appears that Yeh Ying has been successful. Furthermore, we've been spotted."

Chen Ming dismissed the concern with a casual wave of his hand. "So they've spotted us? No matter. By the way, is the logging belt all set up now?"

Wang Meng confirmed, "It's all in place. Your Highness, I urge you to vacate the premises immediately. The danger here is paramount. Our forces are too thin, and without a fortress, I fear we cannot ensure your safety."

A smirk of self-assurance played on Chen Ming's lips as he countered, "Who said anything about playing defense? No, no, no—we're on the offensive."