"To die before the mission is completed..." — no phrase could more aptly describe this swordsman who bore three blades in his sword case. Every opportunity to shine was shattered beneath that single strike.
Just as he stepped beyond the main hall, his head was severed by a butcher's cleaver that fell from the sky, leaving him no time to explain, no place to appeal. The blood-soaked cleaver hovered silently midair, dripping crimson.
Within the Chen residence, silence reigned — not even the chirp of a bird nor the buzz of a fly. Everyone stood frozen, as though turned to stone. The remaining swordsmen of the Sword Sect stared wide-eyed, some horrified, others stunned, unable to comprehend: How... how did he die just like that?
At the round nanmu table, Jing Yue, pouring wine for himself, gave a slight twitch of the eyelid. The surface of the freshly filled cup trembled, rippling as if disturbed by some unseen force.
It has begun.
Jing Yue lifted his gaze. He knew this night would determine whether the Sword Sect would seize control of Beiluo City — or lose everything. The city's young master had grown weary of pretending diplomacy; he was now baring his fangs, ready to purge the Sword Sect's roots from this land with a thunderous strike.
The floating butcher's cleaver suddenly retracted, then, under the eyes of all who looked on as if seeing a ghost, shot forth like a bolt of lightning.
What kind of technique was this?Controlling a blade through the void — like a celestial being descending!
Many of the swordsmen's hearts began to tremble. They glanced at the beheaded corpse, then at the flying cleaver, expressions shifting rapidly between fear and hesitation. But in the end, they could only steel their nerves and walk out.
Each step out of the hall was leaden. After a hundred paces, they arrived at the Chen residence's garden. Rockeries, leisure pavilions, and koi ponds painted a picturesque scene — yet the air was thick with an inescapable, chilling scent of blood.
Dozens of Beiluo's iron-blooded troops stood ready, armor stained with blood, long blades likewise crimson.
Beside the pond sat a youth in a wheelchair, scattering crumbs into the water, attracting a swarm of hungry fish. A fox-faced maiden in a goose-yellow gown stood nearby, her smile radiant like spring. A little girl with a chessboard on her back stared curiously at the falling crumbs.
A middle-aged man in a black robe stood solemnly, raising his hand — the bloodied cleaver flew into his grasp.
The moment the Sword Sect's men and Beiluo's merchants stepped out and saw this scene, their hearts clenched tightly.
Creak—The wheelchair's wooden wheels scraped against the stone path.
Lu Fan, still facing away, turned slowly. Clad in flowing white robes, he brushed away the crumbs from his lap with a casual clap of the hands, his gaze cool as it swept across the crowd.
The setting sun began to dip, dyeing the skies a deep crimson — as if the heavens themselves were bleeding.
Leaning back in his chair, Lu Fan's eyes grew cold."Thirty-seven merchant families of Beiluo City... Those rioters — weren't they hired by you and the three great clans?"
He lowered his head slightly, playing with his fingers. His voice was soft, yet each syllable landed like a hammer in the merchants' chests. They opened their mouths to speak, but no sound came.
The leaders of the Liu and Zhu clans trembled violently. Their eyes darted to the shackled Liu Ye, Zhu Yishan, and Chen Beixun, along with their respective kin — all prisoners now. Their hearts felt as though crushed by an invisible hand.
It was over. The Liu and Zhu families were finished.
"Lu Ping'an! What crime has the Liu family committed?! If you destroy us, all the trade routes connected to our holdings will collapse! You'll plunge Beiluo City into irreversible chaos!"
"My Zhu family is no different! You demon! Your father, Lu Changkong, was a man of reason — how did he sire a monster like you?!"
The two patriarchs pointed trembling fingers at Lu Fan, veins bulging, their voices shrill with anger. Around them, other merchants chimed in support. Sword Sect disciples drew their blades. Chen family's private soldiers raised longbows in defiance.
Tension exploded.The air grew sharp.A single spark could ignite the storm.
But Lu Fan's gaze passed through the Liu and Zhu leaders — and fell upon the Sword Sect's warriors.
Each wore green robes and bore a yellow pearwood sword case on their backs.
"Of the Hundred Schools… Sword Sect."
Lu Fan narrowed his eyes. The first of the Hundred Schools he encountered had been the Daoists — though clearly, Beiluo was not their battleground.
The Sword Sect, however, sought dominion here.
According to Chen Beixun, the Six City-Guarding Fortresses of Great Zhou had all been infiltrated by the Hundred Schools, carving up the empire as if it were a feast. The rebellion of the three great families, meant to lure the military commander Dantai Xuan into the city, had clearly been incited by them as well.
Nie Changqing opened his eyes. He wiped the blood from his cleaver. He had just slain a Five-Echo Grandmaster — and his hand still trembled.
This was no scholar from a pleasure barge. This was a true grandmaster.
Of course, the success had relied heavily on surprise — and his blade control technique.
Luo Cheng sheathed his blade, face alight with exhilaration, though he dared not let down his guard.
He turned to Lu Fan."Young Master… what now?"
In the distance, the leaders of Liu and Zhu continued to roar, hoping to frighten Lu Fan with threats and logic. Other merchants echoed them.
"Kill them."
Lu Fan rested his chin on one hand, voice indifferent."The world won't stop spinning because of your deaths. And Beiluo City… will go on. Others will take your place."
His tone was cold.And it froze the hearts of every merchant and noble present.
"Beiluo… will descend into chaos!" a merchant roared, eyes bloodshot.
Lu Fan cast him a glance."And if it does?""If anyone thinks they can't survive here… then leave.""See for yourselves — is the world outside more chaotic, or is Beiluo?"
He idly brushed the woolen blanket over his legs.Then uttered one chilling word:"Kill."
Luo Cheng's eyes blazed.His blood-stained blade was unsheathed with a metallic ring.
On the walls of the Chen residence, archers clad in armor — summoned from the city's garrison — raised military-grade crossbows, all aimed at the Chen family's private soldiers, merchants, and Sword Sect elites.
Shield-bearing soldiers stepped before Lu Fan.
"No!"
"Young Master Lu, we were wrong! Spare us!"
"They tricked us — we're loyal citizens!"
Faced with the rain of crossbow bolts, their spirits collapsed.They knelt, weeping and wailing.
But their tears were in vain.
Luo Cheng gave the order.The bolts were loosed.
One after another, merchants fell, riddled with arrows, blood soaking the earth. The Liu and Zhu patriarchs were struck down, unable even to scream.
The Sword Sect warriors, despite their strength, could not withstand the Ironblood Army's assault — they were hacked to death in droves.
As for the Chen family's soldiers, they were no match at all — and were swiftly exterminated.
Of course, the defenders did not emerge unscathed.The garden air reeked of blood.
In his wheelchair, Lu Fan slowly looked up.
From the distant main hall of the Chen residence, a figure emerged — wine cup in hand.
It was the swordsman Jing Yue, keeper of four swords.
A heavily wounded warrior, drenched in blood, crawled to his feet and collapsed at Jing Yue's side, eyes full of unwillingness before drawing his final breath.
Jing Yue sighed.
He tossed his wine into the air, droplets scattering like crystals in the crimson dusk.
Then, two fingers slid along the base of his sword case —A blade unsheathed, its ringing cry endless.
Six Echoes of energy burst from his body.Sword light roared forth — striking the porcelain wine cup midair.
From afar, Nie Changqing strode forward, butcher's cleaver in hand, placing himself before Lu Fan.A Grandmaster with Six Echoes… He exhaled slowly, grip tightening.
Suddenly, his gaze froze.
For he saw —That the Grandmaster swordsman, Jing Yue, had stabbed his blade... not at his enemy,but downward into the earth beneath his own feet—