The morning air still clung to the chill of the mountain wind as Li Tian stood alone atop the eastern watchtower, his robes fluttering in the breeze. Below him, the clan grounds slowly came to life—servants sweeping the courtyards, guards marching their rounds, and disciples starting their morning training. But Li Tian's gaze was fixed far beyond the walls, toward the trail that led to the valley. Toward where the Zhao Clan forces were gathering.
The System had gone quiet since the envoy's visit, as if waiting for Li Tian to act without guidance. Or perhaps testing him.
He didn't need a prompt to know the next move.
He needed to strike first.
The Li Clan's resources were stretched thin. Too many elders still doubted him. But Li Tian wasn't planning to fight with numbers.
He was planning to fight with fear.
In the secluded training courtyard behind the ancestral hall, Xiao Chen met with the shadow unit—five loyal assassins trained under the late patriarch's command. They had sworn their blades to the bloodline, and now they bowed before Li Tian's seal.
"You are to slip into Zhao territory," Xiao Chen said, unrolling a parchment with sketches and maps. "We won't attack directly. We want them rattled. Their supply routes — burned. Their messages — intercepted. Their lower officers — vanished."
He pointed at the circled paths.
"Make them think ghosts haunt their march."
The leader of the unit nodded. "Understood."
Li Tian's voice echoed behind them. "And leave one alive each time. Just one. To return and spread the fear."
The assassins disappeared into the shadows.
Xiao Chen turned to his master. "This will buy time. But Zhao Yun will eventually send his full force."
Li Tian nodded. "That's why we need more than fear. We need truth."
Later that day, Li Tian summoned Elder Mo—the clan's oldest surviving strategist. The man had remained silent during recent events, observing but not opposing.
"I know you think I'm too young," Li Tian began, pouring tea without ceremony. "But I'm not asking for your approval. I'm asking for your mind."
Elder Mo accepted the cup, his expression unreadable. "You've spilled blood and taken power. That earns attention. But lasting power comes from stability."
Li Tian gestured to the scrolls laid out across the table. "What if I told you Zhao Yun has no rightful claim to lead?"
Elder Mo's eyes narrowed.
"I've been studying the sealed scrolls left by my father. They record an agreement — signed and marked — that the Zhao Clan violated long before the war began."
Mo raised a brow. "You're talking about the Treaty of Twin Hills?"
Li Tian nodded. "It was meant to bind both clans to peace and shared lands. But Zhao Yun's father broke it — took land, assassinated border elders, blamed it on rebels."
"And you can prove this?"
"I can. But the council must hear it. And more importantly — the people must believe it."
Elder Mo leaned back, eyes sharp. "Then we need a witness. Someone who lived through that treaty."
Li Tian smiled faintly. "I already found one."
As dusk approached, the Li Clan lit the ceremonial torches along the perimeter of the ancestral courtyard. A crowd gathered. Not just council members — but guards, disciples, servants. All curious. All waiting.
Li Tian stood at the center, robes black and red, the clan crest glowing faintly in the firelight.
When the last torch was lit, an old woman was escorted in. Her hair was white, her back stooped, but her eyes were clear. She was once an aide to the Patriarchs of both clans. She had vanished after the war.
Now, she spoke.
"They call me mad, but I remember. I remember the night of the treaty. I held the inkstone. I saw Zhao Yun's father smile as he handed over poisoned wine. I saw my master choke on it. And I saw them burn the second scroll — the true scroll."
The crowd murmured.
Li Tian raised his hand, and from a sealed box, he drew out a scroll. Ancient. Marked with both clan crests.
"This," he said, unrolling it slowly, "is the surviving copy. My father preserved it in secret. If Zhao dares accuse us of betrayal, let him answer to this."
The flames flickered against the scroll's ink. The crowd grew silent.
Xiao Chen stepped forward, blade drawn. "We fight not just for vengeance, but for truth."
Elder Mo stepped up beside Li Tian. "Then it is time the council votes."
Li Tian did not move.
He didn't need their vote. But their voice would seal the future.
And tonight, that voice roared.
"Let Zhao Yun come. We will bury him in truth and shadow."