Flames devoured the twisted silhouettes of the Wood Elf Village, and the air was thick with the scent of burnt wood, blood, and despair.
Shen Mu, mounted on his tall Holy Tree Steed, slowly entered the heart of the village, now a veritable inferno, under the strict escort of Fatis and a small squad of Holy Tree Knights.
His gaze swept over the Wood Elf warriors still offering sporadic resistance, as if observing flies caught in a spiderweb, struggling in vain.
Just a short distance in front of Shen Mu, the last remnants of resistance were being mercilessly crushed.
A small group of Wood Elf Sword Dancers attempted to organize a defense around a half-collapsed treehouse structure; their agile figures flickered in the firelight, their scimitars tracing arcs of desperate defiance.
"Roll over them."
Shen Mu's voice was flat, as if he were discussing the weather.
The command was instantly transmitted through some unknown means.
"Charge!"
Lezalit roared like thunder, leading the steel torrent of Swadian Heavy Cavalry in another charge.
Their charge formation was as tight as a moving wall of steel, lances like a forest, glinting with a chilling, icy light in the glow of the flames.
"Splat—Thud!"
The heavy thud of impact, the sound of bones shattering, the dull crunch of lances piercing flesh, and the dying screams of the Wood Elves mingled together.
Against absolute strength, speed, and steel armor, skill instantly lost its meaning.
A Wood Elf Sword Dancer attempting to leap and attack a knight was impaled by several lances simultaneously while still in mid-air, like a butterfly pinned to a display board, instantly losing his life, carried along by the charging knights, and slammed heavily against a burning wooden wall behind him.
Another Sword Dancer's scimitar struck the oncoming heavy chainmail, only sparking a few points of light, and the next moment he was sent flying by a massive warhorse galloping past, and was trampled before he hit the ground.
At the same time, Khergit Heavy Horse Archers circled like vultures, maneuvering their horses at a slightly greater distance.
They coldly nocked arrows, drew their bows, and the arrows, with a tearing shriek through the air, accurately shot at any resister attempting to escape or still standing.
The rain of arrows fell, accompanied by the faint sounds of throats being pierced and the dull groans of hearts being struck, and the last circle of resistance attempting to form a stand completely collapsed and disintegrated, vanishing into the sea of fire under the trampling of the heavy cavalry and the sharp arrows of the Kujit.
"Stubborn resistance only increases casualties."
Shen Mu's tone carried a hint of almost joyful satisfaction, even a kind of appreciation.
He nodded slightly, his gaze sweeping over this slaughterhouse he had personally ordered created.
The power core of the Wood Elf Village was shattered, its demise imminent; on the Eight Mile River chessboard, another disobedient piece was gone.
Just then, hoofbeats came from the flank.
A squad of Khergit Heavy Horse Archers, escorting a group of dust-covered people, passed through the burning ruins and blood-soaked paths, arriving before Shen Mu's horse.
It was the dozen or so Negotiation Experts led by Sun Zhiru.
They were covered in dust and ash, looking disheveled. Sun Zhiru hung his head, his expression one of resigned numbness; he knew any struggle was futile.
However, a few young Negotiation Experts in the group, upon seeing Shen Mu seated on his horse and the Holy Tree Knights around him, majestic as if descended from heaven, felt the fear from the banquet's humiliation and the sudden catastrophe instantly overwhelmed by the anger of having survived.
One bold expert could no longer hold back, pointing at Shen Mu and hissing, his voice trembling: "Lord Shen Mu! What is this?! Are you using us as bait? You sent us to the Green Leaf Group's negotiation banquet just to make them relax their guard so your army could launch a sneak attack?!"
"Exactly! This is too unethical!"
Another also mustered courage to agree, his voice shrill, "Didn't you think about it? If Yang Di and the others had become enraged at that moment, or if the negotiations had gone slightly awry, we could have been killed at any time! You are using our lives as bargaining chips!"
"We demand an explanation!"
Several people were incensed, as if they had forgotten their current predicament and the cold ruthlessness of the master before them.
Facing these questions mixed with fear and anger, Shen Mu did not even lower his noble head to look at them directly.
He merely tugged at the corner of his mouth slightly, revealing a faint, extremely cold arc that was certainly not a smile, as if he had heard some utterly childish remark.
He continued to gaze straight ahead towards the burning great treehouse, his tone as indifferent as if stating an irrelevant fact:
"Those who achieve great things do not bother with minor details."
He paused, his gaze finally slowly shifting to the angry experts, his deep eyes devoid of any warmth or apology, only a high-and-mighty indifference, almost like looking down at ants: "Besides, you didn't die, did you?"
These words were like a cold chisel, piercing through the last shred of luck and the blustering anger of the Negotiation Experts.
Didn't die?
Is not dying a reason?
Did their survival become proof of the rationality of his risky actions?
This utterly cold, utilitarian logic sent shivers down their spines.
Just as they were about to open their mouths, wanting to refute this logic—
"Clang... clang... clang..."
A subtle yet chillingly clear sound of metal rubbing against metal rang out.
The sound came from the Holy Tree Knights guarding Shen Mu's side.
Several armored Holy Tree Knights remained motionless on their horses, their gazes still fixed straight ahead, as if they hadn't heard the commotion below at all.
But their right hands, which had been gripping the reins, almost simultaneously with Shen Mu's words, released the reins in perfect synchronization, gently resting on the hilt of the longsword hanging at their waists.
The grip on the sword was steady and powerful, as if the next second they could draw the gleaming knight's longsword and cut down any existence daring to offend their leader's majesty.
A cold killing intent spread like a tangible presence, enveloping the Negotiation Experts who had just been questioning.
Instantly, all their anger and questions were choked in their throats.
They saw the Holy Tree Knights' icy, emotionless eyes sweep over them; there was no human warmth in that gaze, only pure loyalty and an assessment of "obstacles."
It was as if, in their eyes, these noisy Negotiation Experts were no different from charred wooden stakes by the roadside.
The air suddenly solidified, leaving only the crackling of distant flames and sporadic screams.
The faces of the Negotiation Experts, who had just been red with anger, instantly drained of all color, turning ashen as corpses. Beads of cold sweat immediately seeped from their foreheads.
Their bodies trembled uncontrollably, their lips quivering, but they could no longer utter a sound.
They remembered the souls on the battlefield, pierced by lances and shot by arrows.
Before absolute power and will, so-called moral questions seemed so pale, ridiculous, and dangerous.
An unspeakable fear and despair, like ice water, completely drowned them, leaving only a deathly silence.
"You did very well. Go back now, and I will reward you." Shen Mu then indifferently glanced at these Negotiation Experts, very satisfied with their current cowering, quail-like appearance.
Shen Mu, still on his horse, then looked at Sun Zhiru, who had said nothing and appeared to accept everything, and a slight smile played on his lips.
This was why he had chosen to let Sun Zhiru come along.
Sun Zhiru was truly obedient.
"Also, Sun Zhiru, you did well on this mission. Take these Negotiation Experts and form your own team in the future. The Blue Star Humans of Deherim need management talents like you."
Shen Mu spoke indifferently.
"Understood."
Sun Zhiru's head was bowed even lower, his voice trembling slightly: "Thank you for your grace, Lord."
The ten Negotiation Experts behind him were silent, imitating Sun Zhiru's deep bow, their ashen faces devoid of any dissatisfaction, only the fear of having survived and profound obedience.
Shen Mu's words were like a cold hammer, shattering their last naive illusions; "returning for reward" was already the most merciful disposition, any defiance could invite the wordless, deadly chill of the Holy Tree Knights.
Shen Mu's gaze indifferently moved away from this disheveled group of "bargaining chips," as if merely brushing away a speck of dust.
He slightly raised his chin, and Fatis understood, urging his horse forward, forming a stern iron wall with the Holy Tree Knights, guarding Shen Mu as they slowly advanced towards the burning center of the village.
Footsteps clanked, and the sound of heavy armor rubbing together became even heavier against the crackling background of the flames.
Following closely behind Shen Mu was the massive infantry square led by Bandak.
They surged into the ruins like a silent tide, replacing the previously charging cavalry, and began to execute the colder and more meticulous final mopping-up orders.
"Clear the area!"
"Check all broken walls and ruins!"
"Remaining enemies—kill without mercy!"
Bandak's rough voice echoed through the thick smoke.
His gaze was like a hawk's, commanding with certainty.
The village had been completely transformed into a slaughterhouse after the battlefield grinder, and the few dying Wood Elves or hidden Blue Star Humans were unable to hide from the meticulous search of the Swadian Light Infantry and Swadian Militia.
These lower-tier troops now found their purpose—to ferret out the remaining resistors still breathing in corners and shadows of the ruins.
"Target spotted! Under the tree root at three o'clock!"
"Group one, surround! Group two, follow up!"
"Hooah—!"
A Wood Elf archer curled behind a charred tree root tried to draw his bow with his last strength, but several cold-gleaming Holy Tree Spearman's standard lances savagely stabbed out from different angles, instantly pinning him down.
Elsewhere, under a half-collapsed wooden shed, a Blue Star Human desperately lunged out, wielding a chipped elven short sword, but was immediately surrounded by several robust Swadian Militia who brought down their spiked maces, instantly splattering his brains and covering his head in blood.
Screams, dying cries, and the dull thud of weapons entering flesh rose and fell amidst the crackling of flames devouring wood.
This was no longer a thunderous charge, but a cold and ruthless Rolling, ensuring that, besides Deherim, there would be no other resistant "impurities" left on this land.
Shen Mu tacitly approved and even encouraged this training—using the lives of residual enemies to imbue these basic troops with a bloodlust.
And gain combat experience in the process.
Killing two birds with one stone.
How wonderful!
Hoofbeats stopped at the edge of the relatively open village square, once the core area of the Green Leaf Group, now only burning tall skeletons and scattered debris remained.
Shen Mu sat upright on his Holy Tree Steed, turning his head to watch Bandak's infantry line, orderly yet bloody, advance.
Firelight illuminated his young and stern face.
Watching the low-ranking soldiers mercilessly end the last breaths of the enemy under military orders, watching his meticulously crafted war machine mesh and turn like the most precise gears, completely crushing and leveling everything named "Green Leaf Group"...
A faint arc of satisfaction, characteristic of an absolute controller, quietly appeared on his lips.
The village was burning, resistance was being cleared, and the will of Eight Mile River would ultimately bear only the imprint of Deherim.
The squad of Khergit Mounted Archers had just led Sun Zhiru and the others away when urgent hoofbeats rang out again.
Another small squad came through the swirling smoke, and the leading Mounted Archer dismounted, knelt on one knee, and reported: "My Lord! During the clearing, a severely wounded man was found, claiming to be Zhang Song of the Green Leaf Group."
Shen Mu raised an eyebrow slightly.
He remembered that name—Yang Di's most trusted advisor, rumored to be one of the Green Leaf Group's core strategists along with Zhang Bo.
Fatis urged his horse half a step closer and whispered: "This person should have been with Yang Di. Now he's an abandoned piece, perhaps useful."
"Go take a look." Shen Mu neither confirmed nor denied, only raised his chin.
The Khergit Mounted Archer immediately led the way, and the silent iron hooves of the Holy Tree Knights parted the burning ruins.
The thick smoke cleared a corner, revealing a figure prostrate on the ground.
Zhang Song's abdomen was soaked with blood, his bandages no longer showing their original color, and the wound on his left thigh, though hastily bandaged, still seeped dark red with his faint breaths.
He was curled up amidst the charred earth and broken arrowheads, like a discarded, ruined doll; if not for the rising and falling of his chest, he would be almost indistinguishable from the surrounding corpses.
Several Khergit Mounted Archers stood on either side, their scimitars glinting with un-dried blood in the firelight.
Shen Mu reined in his Holy Tree Steed, its tall back casting a cold shadow that completely enveloped the man on the ground.
The faint metallic clink of iron boots against stirrups startled Zhang Song. He seemed to have exhausted all his strength, his neck straining to lift at an almost broken angle, his face covered in ash and blood exposed in the flickering firelight.
Those eyes, which had once calculated negotiations and scrutinized Zhang Bo, now held only a murky grayness, reflecting the knife-cut silhouette of the young lord on horseback—a similarly young face, yet gilded with a completely different, dark gold radiance of a conqueror.
Their gazes met for only a moment.
Zhang Song's Adam's apple bobbed with difficulty, finally managing only a bitter smile that was almost a twitch.
The strength supporting his head suddenly vanished, and he fell heavily back to the ground, his forehead resting against the cold, charred earth, unable to move even a finger.
Dust mixed with blood adhered to his cracked lips.
Shen Mu looked down at this remnant, once the schemer of Green Leaf Group's fate, his voice cutting through the crackling of the burning flames, clear and without a ripple: "Yang Di abandoned you to flee, all for that tree?"
Zhang Song did not look up, his voice as faint as the wind wailing through a broken wall, yet every word was imbued with a tearing self-mockery and an immense sense of absurdity: "...a blade for the life-saving grace of yesteryear... a blade for my 'folly' of serving him..." He coughed up a mouthful of blood, his words fragmented yet clear: "He's mad... I... have a clear conscience..."
The figure on horseback remained motionless, the Holy Tree Knights' hard armor reflecting the surrounding flames, separating him from this dying place with an insurmountable boundary. (End of this chapter)
