Clan Lin
The council hall was filled with every significant figure of the clan. Unable to send a message to the Holy Land, Lin Bo had decided to act differently — he convened an emergency assembly.
At the center of the chamber lay more than a dozen bodies. Their faces were pale and lifeless, their forms covered in deep wounds. Some had died instantly, while others bore expressions twisted by agony. The smell of blood and death clung to the air, but no one looked away — the price of this failure was far too high.
Lin Bo stood at the forefront of his faction, surrounded by elders who supported his influence. A predatory glint flickered in their eyes, the anticipation of a coming victory. Opposite them stood the supporters of Patriarch Lin Zemin — fewer in number, troubled and tense. Between the two sides lingered several neutral elders, their gazes shifting from one leader to the other.
On the raised platform, seated in a massive chair, was the patriarch himself — Lin Zemin. Once a man whose very presence radiated strength, he now bore the unmistakable marks of illness. Dark hair streaked with silver, skin pale and drawn, sharp features hardened by will yet shadowed by exhaustion. Even so, his back remained straight, and his voice steady. He wore the traditional robes of the clan head — a dark-blue garment adorned with patterns resembling the roots of an ancient tree, the symbol of the Lin lineage.
Before him, closer to the center of the hall, stood Lin Tian. His clothes were stained with blood. Though he appeared calm, a keen observer could detect the underlying tension in his posture.
Lin Bo stepped forward, fury blazing in his eyes.
— More than a dozen of our clan's disciples lie dead! Among them my grandson, Lin Yan! — his voice thundered across the hall. — And by some miracle only one person survived. — He sharply turned toward Lin Tian. — Care to explain how it happened that you alone returned from the forest?
Lin Tian calmly lifted his head, meeting the Grand Elder's gaze without flinching.
— How would I know how they died? — his voice was cold. — We split up at the start… or rather, they rushed to get rid of me. What right do you have, Great Elder, to accuse me of anything without evidence?
— Evidence? — Lin Bo crossed his arms. — Isn't the fact that you're the sole survivor evidence enough? You should have protected your companions, and instead…
— Companions? — Lin Tian's voice hardened. — You mean the ones who abandoned me the moment they could? Me — a cultivator of the Fourth Mortal Rank? Even if I tried, how could I protect them when even Lin Yan, at the Ninth Rank, fell? Or do you suggest I should have died as well, just to ease your conscience?
The patriarch raised his hand, commanding silence. His weary gaze passed over his son before settling back on the Grand Elder.
— Lin Bo, what exactly are you accusing my son of? Do you have anything beyond suspicion? — his tone was calm, but beneath it lay tempered steel.
Lin Bo clenched his fists. He knew he couldn't level a formal accusation without proof, yet he wasn't willing to lose the chance to pressure the patriarch either.
— No, Patriarch, — he admitted reluctantly. — But surely you see how strange this situation looks? Does the clan not deserve answers?
Lin Zemin glanced at the bodies in the center of the hall, then back at Lin Tian.
— Lin Tian, — his voice grew slow and weighty, — do you swear that you had no hand in their deaths?
— I swear, — he replied evenly.
The patriarch nodded.
— Then the matter is settled. Without evidence, no one in this hall will accuse another. We have lost too many already. Instead of turning against our own, we should consider who the real enemy is.
Lin Bo pressed his teeth together but remained silent. The patriarch might as well have said nothing — yet pushing harder now was impossible. Still, this was far from over. He would uncover the truth… or manufacture it himself.
Stepping forward again, he spoke:
— I have information from the city lord, — he announced, and silence fell over the hall. Lin Bo relayed every detail he had received.
Patriarch Lin Zemin pondered for a moment, then nodded slowly.
— Thank you for the report, Great Elder. We will provide the city guard with all possible assistance in this matter. — He rose from his seat, his voice firm despite the fatigue. — Today's meeting is adjourned. See to the fallen and declare a period of mourning. Their families must be supported by the clan.
He turned to the elders.
— I will send a message to the Heavenly Dragon Sacred Land. They must be informed, and we must await their instructions.
With that, he left the hall, leaving the elders alone with their thoughts and suspicions.
The Lin, Wang, and Du clans were troubled and deeply engaged in discussions, as were the Mercenary Guild and the City Guard.
The Xue clan was no different — except for one crucial detail. Before Patriarch Xue Shen could send a message to the Sacred Land, it had already sent an urgent missive to him. Now, seated in his study, he read it, and with every line his expression darkened. By the end, the mask of perpetual calm he wore shattered — he slammed his fist onto the table, reducing it to a pile of splinters.
— Damn it, — he hissed through clenched teeth.
— Shen, what happened? — as the table collapsed, a young woman entered the study.
She was slender, well-shaped, of average height. Not a classic beauty, yet undeniably captivating. Her face, though not flawless, possessed soft, appealing features, while her expressive eyes — intelligent and serene — naturally drew attention. Long dark hair was carefully arranged and held in place by an elegant hairpin, emphasizing a simple but refined style.
Dressed in a restrained, meticulously chosen gown without excess decoration, she exuded the aura of someone indifferent to pretentiousness and showy grandeur. Liu Ruiyin seemed like a person who valued actions and sincerity above status or appearance. She was the woman Xue Shen intended to marry next month.
Her observant gaze swept over the remains of the table before returning to him.
— Something serious? — she asked quietly, folding her hands in front of her.
— Serious? It's worse than serious, Ruiyin — it's catastrophic! — he hissed.
— Everything can be resolved, Shen. Calm down, — she urged gently.
"Sigh."
Taking a deep breath, he spoke tensely:
— This will be difficult to resolve… if it's even possible. She escaped.
— What??? How??? — the woman was stunned; she knew exactly whom he meant and could hardly believe it. Escaping that place was impossible.
— She finally managed to get hold of the artifact, and when the elders came to seize it, it transported her to gods-know-where. Now the entire Sacred Land is searching for her across the continent, but she'll be incredibly hard to find. And even if they do find her, she might escape again.
— And what does the Sacred Land want from us?
— Your father ordered that Qinxuan be handed over to the envoy who will arrive in the city, so they can use her to track and pressure Bai Lan.
— But the girl is already… — the woman's face paled slightly.
— EXACTLY! — the man roared, smashing a nearby chair with a strike of his palm.
— So what are we supposed to do now? Will we say the girl is missing?
— No. First, I'll report the massacre in the forest without mentioning her disappearance. Until the envoy arrives, we'll search for Qinxuan ourselves. Whether she's alive or dead…
The indifference in his voice as he spoke of his own daughter was chilling. It didn't matter to him whether they found her breathing — or in a coffin.
Liu Ruiyin clenched her fingers, nails digging into her palm, though her face remained composed.
— And if we don't find her?
Xue Shen looked at her and said helplessly:
— Then we'll simply have to come up with a believable explanation. We don't have many options left.
He did not know that Qinxuan's disappearance was no accident, but had happened with Liu Ruiyin's knowledge — for she was Xue Meili's mother. Nor did he know that the woman had no intention of revealing this secret. She also planned to warn her daughter not to speak a word of it if the situation took a turn for the worse.
When Xue Shen left the study to organize the search, Liu Ruiyin lingered for a moment, staring into the empty space. Then, without delay, she headed toward her daughter.