Lu Heng's faint smile deepened as he saw the crowd gathering—students limping back, bruised and bloodied, Jiang clansmen arriving with blades still dripping and eyes wide with the tension of battle. It was working. Every step of the plan.
He didn't look at Jiang Wuyu, but his smile was aimed at him nonetheless—a faint curve of the lips, just sharp enough to sting the pride of the patriarch who now stood beside him.
Jiang Wuyu noticed. Of course he did. But he said nothing. He refused to give Lu Heng the satisfaction.
Lu Heng raised his voice again, his tone heavy with righteous conviction.
"WE INTERROGATED ONE OF THE DEMONIC CULTIVATORS—BUT HE WAS KILLED BY ANOTHER WHO FLED BEFORE WE COULD ACT."
The crowd stirred. Faces hardened. Eyes narrowed.
Lu Heng continued, his Qi rising just enough to let his voice carry like a battle drum:
"FROM WHAT WE GATHERED, IT WAS THEM WHO ATTACKED THE JIANG CLAN'S ASSETS. THEM WHO STRUCK THE STONE PATH HALL'S SUPPLIES."
He raised a hand, pointing toward the corpse of the demonic beast—its charred body still smoldering, black blood staining the mine's rocky edge.
"THEY KILLED YOUR BROTHERS. YOUR SONS. YOUR MASTERS. ALL TO STOKE HATRED BETWEEN US!"
His voice cracked like a whip.
"THEIR PLAN WAS SIMPLE—TURN ME AND JIANG WUYU AGAINST EACH OTHER. MAKE US FIGHT. AND THEN, IN OUR CHAOS, AWAKEN THE BEAST LYING DORMANT IN THE DEEP MINE."
Gasps echoed.
Even those who had doubted now stared in stunned silence.
Lu Heng didn't stop. He filled the silence with more details—lies, half-truths, small distortions spun into gold. Every word sharpened the illusion, solidified it. Made it real.
As he spoke, more students arrived—some supporting injured friends, others bloodstained and wide-eyed. A few carried makeshift stretchers. The Jiang clansmen followed, blades lowered now but their expressions grim and wary.
In the back of the crowd, Xie Lang, his robes still scorched from the blister bomb, leaned on a broken spear like a cane. He listened, slack-jawed. Shocked. He hadn't seen this coming.
Not Lu Heng, not Jiang Wuyu, and certainly not this alliance.
It was like watching two tigers suddenly sit down at the same table and share a meal.
And then—
Jiang Wuyu stepped forward.
The crowd's attention shifted like a tide.
The patriarch of the Jiang Clan stood tall, his hair ruffled and face scratched, but his presence sharp as ever.
"Today," Wuyu began, his voice low but steady, "I saw with my own eyes what true schemes look like."
He let the words settle, then continued.
"When I learned the truth… I put my feud aside."
He gestured toward Lu Heng.
"Vice Dean Lu did the same."
Murmurs of surprise. Respect. A few even looked guilty for ever doubting them.
"We stood together. Not as enemies. But as cultivators of the same empire." His tone grew fiercer. "And we cut down the beast. And the ones who dared use it against us!"
He raised his hand high.
"THAT IS JUSTICE."
A cheer erupted—hesitant at first, then louder. More joined in. Some clapped. Others simply nodded, the tension draining from their faces.
For now... they believed.
In the battle.
In the lie.
In the unity.
And no one—no one—dared question the story after seeing the two of them standing side by side, soaked in the blood of a demonic beast that would've wiped them all out.
The illusion was perfect.
And Jiang Wuyu, despite the fury boiling beneath his calm mask, played his role like a seasoned actor.
Because in the end... survival demanded performance.
And this was the one act neither of them could afford to fumble.
Then—
out of nowhere—
three figures appeared, standing not far from Lu Heng and Jiang Wuyu.
Their presence brought silence like a blade to the throat.
Not a whisper. Not a step. The air itself seemed to pause.
At the center, a man stood clad in worn battle armor, massive gauntlets on both hands. His face was aged, carved with lines of countless campaigns, and his white hair draped behind him like a banner of war. But there was no weakness in him—only strength, honed and absolute, like a steel wall that had never fallen.
Someone in the crowd, voice trembling, whispered:
"Grandpa…?"
It was Xie Lang. His eyes wide. His words cracked by emotion.
The old man gave him a quick look before returning his gaze to lu heng who was now normal since he wasn't using his transformation technique.
Xie Tianhun—the Iron Fist Master, the Fist of Glory, the former General of the Zhaorath Empire, and the warrior who once cracked mountain gates with a single punch.
A legend from the age of fire and steel.
On the right, a woman stood tall, her figure sheathed in silver armor etched with delicate golden lines that shimmered with authority. Her hair flowed in strands of burnished gold, her green eyes razor-sharp and cold. The emblem on her chestplate was unmistakable—recognized in every village and stronghold across Stormridge.
The Zhaorath Empire.
"Zhao Lian…" someone breathed.
Every warrior knew the name.
Officer of Darkveil Crossing, commander of its justice, one of the youngest elite officers in the empire's ranks. She did not move. She didn't need to. Her presence alone spoke of judgment, swift and final.
On the right, a tall man with long brown hair stood calmly, his body relaxed but unyielding. A deep scar ran across one arm, and slung across his back was a great black bow, polished by time and blood. His robes bore the mark of the Stone Path Hall, but his gaze—sharp, unflinching—was that of a man who saw truth without needing words.
Gasps erupted from the crowd like shattering ice.
"The Dean?!"
Lu Zhenhai.
The silent pillar of the Stone Path Hall.
The man who rarely revealed himself—now standing at the heart of chaos.
And behind them, like a tide held in perfect form, came a troop of Zhaorath Empire soldiers, each step taken in flawless sync. Their swords gleamed in the dusk, unsheathed and held firm. They stood in formation, not a single movement wasted, not a breath taken out of turn.
Discipline. Power. Authority.
None of them moved without a command.
None of them spoke.
They had arrived not as reinforcements—but as witnesses.
And in that moment, every lie, every scheme, every truth spoken on that blood-soaked ground stood naked before them.
Xie Tianhun walked forward with an air of composed authority, the crisp edges of his dark robe fluttering faintly with each step. Behind him followed Zhao Lian and Lu Zhenhai, the three forming an imposing front as they approached the clearing.
Zhao Lian's eyes widened slightly at the sight of the beast's mangled corpse. "Is this the demonic beast that was reported to us?" she asked, her voice composed but tinged with awe—it was her first time seeing one up close.
Xie Tianhun's sharp gaze swept over the blood-soaked ground and the eerie stillness of the slain beast. He stopped just short of its head, lowering his voice as he asked, "It's dead, clearly. I assume you two were responsible?"
Lu Heng stepped forward, clasping his hands with a grim, respectful expression. "Yes, we were."
Jiang Wuyu glanced sideways at him, a flicker of disdain crossing his features. "Damned weasel really knows how to act," he thought.
Lu Zhenhai's eyes narrowed. "We overheard your earlier discussion about demonic cultivators," he said, his tone tight with expectation. "We want every detail. Leave nothing out."
Then his voice turned cold and commanding. "Jiang clansmen. Students of the Stone Path Hall. This matter exceeds your authority. You are to retreat immediately. The Empire's soldiers will escort you and tend to your injuries."
The students nearby hesitated, murmurs of protest rising—until they saw Lu Zhenhai's stern face and the imperial badge gleaming on his chest. They withdrew reluctantly.
Jiang Wuyu and Lu Heng stood alone now, with no crowd to support their illusion. Still, they stood firm.
And they lied.
They wove their tale seamlessly, speaking of the beast's rampage, of their coordination and courage, of the sudden ambush by demonic cultivators who stole the core and vanished, taking the only captive with them. They were careful—careful to fabricate just enough, careful to keep every detail internally consistent.
Zhao Lian listened in silence, her admiration growing with every word. The two had come out of a battle with a Rank 2 demonic beast with barely a scratch, and their composure spoke volumes. She was only at the low stage of Rank 2 herself, and a few years younger than Lu Heng. To her, their tale shimmered with the glamour of excellence.
But not to Xie Tianhun.
He and Lu Zhenhai exchanged a subtle glance—one built on years of shared campaigns and interrogations.
Xie Tianhun turned to the corpse and crouched beside it, lifting a clawed limb with two fingers. He studied the dried blood, the ragged gashes. "Where's the core?" he asked without looking at them.
Jiang Wuyu spoke before Lu Heng could. "We were ambushed before we could retrieve it. A group of demonic cultivators—more than we expected. We managed to capture one, forced a few answers out, but the others killed him before we could get more."
Lu Heng nodded silently, his jaw tight, supporting the story.
Xie Tianhun rose, brushing nonexistent dust from his palm. "I see. And these enemies, they ambushed you after the fight?"
"Yes," Jiang Wuyu answered quickly.
"Then," said Xie Tianhun calmly, "why are there no secondary tracks? No signs of a scuffle near the beast's corpse? No blood except the beast's? Not even a single sign of Qi disruption other than your own?"
The air grew still.
Zhao Lian blinked.
Lu Heng clenched his fists.
"We didn't fight here we fought elsewhere in the forest you go and check it there," Jiang Wuyu said flatly, reaching.
"elsewhere?" Xie Tianhun asked, raising an eyebrow. "as far as i can see there's no ruined place or any sign of a battle anywhere other then hear even in The forest that's destroyed the only signs i found were those that led to you as if the battle was between you two not others'? And even if that was true why didn't you mention that earlier."
Lu Heng exhaled. "well to answer you for your first question who we fought were like ghosts they fought like assassin's so it's clear why there was no clear sign of s technique other then mine and wuyu's as for your other one i mentioned that we fought but i never said where it was you who immediately assumed we fought here."
"A noble lie."said Xie Tianhun "after all the beasts body is still warm which implys that it just died, wouldn't it take you a longer time to come back here and find that core has been just taken out also why would you leave the corpse and move elsewhere fully knowing what a demonic beast is worth to demonic Cultivators, and even if you say you were guided there by then for an ambush one simple thing can expose that," Xie Tianhun said softly.
He then pointed at a soldier not too far away and said"bring a couple of students and clansman here i have a few questions for them."soon a few students and clansman came and they were immediately questioned"there's as space in the forest that's in complete ruined would you care to tell us who fought there "the students snd clansman stood there silently as they looked at their superiors "answer the question"said Lu Zhenhai as he talked to his students they were shaken but built enough courage to say"a-a-ah it wa-was the vice dean and the patriarch of the jiang clan"Lu Zhenhai then said"and when did they fight there was before this beast came or after"the boy nervously said"a-after sir.""and tell me one more thing were they fighting together or against each other."the studen swalloed his fear as Jiang Wuyu and lu heng looked at him "a-against each other sir"lu Zhenhai then said"you're dismissed go and join your groups "said Lu Zhenhai.
Xie Tianhun then said"you two lied again which is a crime against the imperial order you will be interrogated judge by the imperial court for trying ot deceive an officer of the empire and ex-general of empire"he then said"your lies have weight. But The more you stack, the more likely they are to collapse."
His gaze was cold now. "As for now as this matter involves stolen beast cores, demonic activity, and imperial jurisdiction, I will require a full inspection of your storage items. Rings, pouches, anything."
Jiang Wuyu froze. His face betrayed nothing, but his fingers twitched once.
Lu Heng's thoughts darkened. "So that's how it ends. I knew this might happen… still, I hoped..."
The Farlands scroll in his ring alone was enough to mark him a traitor. The Empire considered knowledge of the Farlands restricted—what he had was stolen. There would be no mercy.
Jiang Wuyu spoke with unnatural calm. "Of course. Lu Heng, let's give them our rings."
Lu Heng nodded. But his eyes held a strange glint.
As they reached for their rings, Jiang Wuyu's hand slipped past his, and in one fluid motion, his giant blade erupted from his storage space—already mid-swing.
The world cracked with sound as steel howled toward Lu Zhenhai's throat.
Lu Zhenhai twisted, parrying the blow with his wrist guards. Sparks flared.
"Traitors!" Zhao Lian cried, already drawing her blade.
But Lu Heng was not idle. His body spasmed violently as golden Qi surged from within. His muscles rippled and swelled, his veins glowing, hair turning bright gold. His fangs lengthened, mouth twisting into a mad grin.
"Golden Carnage Transformation: First Stage — Imperfect Fusion!"
Xie Tianhun didn't flinch. He vanished.
A heartbeat later, his fist drove into Lu Heng's gut like a hammer of
Justice.The half-transformed cultivator choked, Qi faltering as he was thrown back, crashing through two trees.
Zhao Lian met Jiang Wuyu in a storm of strikes, her sword a blur.
"So my intuition was right," Xie Tianhun said coldly, walking toward the trembling Lu Heng. "Everything you said was nonsense."
He looked down at him—not angry, not surprised. Just quietly, terribly certain.
"You told too many lies," he said. "And I only needed to find one thread to unravel the rest."