The Jade Moon Inn stood quiet in the pale morning light, its wooden exterior showing no signs of the violence that had occurred at the Lu manor just hours ago. Guests slept peacefully, unaware that four assassins had returned to their rooms like ghosts slipping through locked doors.
Zhung moved through the fourth-floor hallway with silent efficiency, his left arm still useless from the embedded arrow, his right hand carrying the small pack he'd prepared days ago for exactly this contingency. Every step was measured, controlled, making no sound on the creaking floorboards that would have betrayed a normal person's passage.
*We anticipated this,* his cold mind noted with satisfaction. *Prepared our belongings in advance. Kept escape packs ready. Never fully unpacked or settled in. Professional paranoia that's about to save our lives.*
He reached his room—number fourteen—and entered quickly, closing the door behind him with a soft click. The space looked exactly as he'd left it before the banquet: bed undisturbed, window slightly open for emergency exit, his white wolf pelt hanging where it would be easy to grab.
Within thirty seconds, he'd gathered everything of value: the pelt, his remaining supplies, the small amount of money Li Huang had provided for expenses. Everything else—the formal robes ruined by blood, the empty vials that had contained poison—he left behind as irrelevant.
*Sixty seconds in the room. Now out. Rendezvous at the back stairs as planned.*
He emerged and moved toward the rendezvous point, passing Hu's room where he could hear the larger man doing the same efficient packing, passing Bai's room where the driver was helping the still-unconscious white-haired assassin prepare for transport.
They converged at the back stairwell within minutes of returning to the inn—four figures moving with synchronized purpose, no words needed because the plan had been established days ago during their initial scouting.
"Bai?" Zhung asked flatly, his dark eyes assessing the unconscious man's condition.
"Still stable," the driver replied, his muffled voice carrying from behind the ever-present mask. "Breathing steady. No signs of deterioration during the journey back. But he needs proper medical treatment soon, or the foreign essence you provided will be consumed and he'll begin failing again."
Hu was already adjusting Bai's weight across his broad shoulders, positioning his companion in a carry that would allow him to move quickly while keeping both hands relatively free for combat if necessary.
"We have maybe an hour before the inn wakes fully," Hu said, his voice low and urgent. "If we leave now, quiet and professional, we can be miles away before anyone knows we were here."
"Optimistic," Zhung observed without emotion. "Wei Shao is competent and thorough. He'll have sent men to check the inn as soon as dawn broke. We should assume—"
He stopped mid-sentence, his enhanced hearing catching something from the street below.
Footsteps. Many of them. Moving with military precision rather than civilian casualness.
Voices giving quiet commands, coordinating positions, surrounding the building.
*Too late,* Zhung's mind calculated with cold certainty. *They're already here. Wei Shao moves faster than anticipated. Professional. Efficient. Exactly what I would do in his position.*
The driver had heard it too, his masked head tilting toward the window, body language shifting from cautious to combat-ready in an instant.
Hu's eyes widened with alarm and anger. "How? How did they find us this quickly? We covered our tracks, used the false scent—"
"The inn was listed on our forged invitations," Zhung interrupted, his voice flat with resignation. "When Wei Shao examined our documents after capture, he would have noted where we claimed to be staying. Elementary investigation. My mistake for not anticipating it."
*No,* his thoughts corrected with brutal honesty. *Not a mistake. A calculated risk. We needed the forged invitations to be thorough and convincing, which meant including realistic details like lodging. The alternative was suspicious documentation that might not have passed inspection. This was the optimal choice given available information, even knowing it created this vulnerability.*
*Sometimes there are no good options. Only less bad ones.*
Then the sounds from below changed—no longer stealthy positioning, but aggressive entry.
A voice rang out through the inn with commanding authority that shattered the morning quiet like thunder:
"EVERYONE REMAIN IN YOUR ROOMS! THIS IS WEI SHAO, HEAD OF SECURITY FOR THE LU FAMILY! WE ARE SEARCHING FOR FOUR DANGEROUS CRIMINALS! DO NOT INTERFERE OR YOU WILL BE CONSIDERED ACCOMPLICES!"
The inn exploded with panicked voices—guests shouting questions, the innkeeper protesting the intrusion, furniture being moved as guards began systematic room-to-room searches.
"Move," Zhung commanded, his cold voice cutting through their moment of paralysis. "Back stairs. Now. We have perhaps sixty seconds before they reach this floor."
They ran—as quietly as possible given the circumstances, Hu's heavy footsteps and Bai's dead weight making complete silence impossible, but moving with the desperate efficiency of professionals who understood that speed now mattered more than stealth.
Down the back stairwell, the narrow service passage that servants used, their boots finding the steps with practiced care despite their urgency.
Third floor. Second floor. First floor approaching—
Guards burst through the ground-floor entrance to the stairwell, weapons drawn, faces showing the focused intensity of men who knew their targets were close.
"THERE!" one guard shouted, pointing up at the four figures descending toward them. "The assassins! Block the exit!"
More guards poured in, filling the narrow stairwell with armed bodies, cutting off the escape route with professional efficiency.
*Surrounded,* Zhung assessed with cold clarity. *Guards below blocking the exit. More guards surely coming from above through the main stairwell. Trapped in a building we're familiar with but they control.*
*Time for contingencies.*
Hu had stopped on the landing between first and second floors, breathing hard from exertion and the weight of carrying Bai, his eyes tracking the guards below with the measured assessment of an experienced fighter calculating odds.
"We can't fight through that many," he said quietly, his voice tight with frustration. "Not with Bai injured, not in a confined space where their numbers matter more than individual skill."
"Agreed," Zhung replied flatly. "Which is why we split up. Divide their forces. Increase individual survival probability."
His dark eyes fixed on Hu with absolute certainty.
"You take Bai and run. Use the window on the second floor—the one facing the alley we scouted on our first day here. It's a ten-foot drop to the awning below, then another eight feet to the ground. Survivable even carrying Bai if you roll properly on landing."
Hu's expression showed he understood the implication immediately. "And you two?"
"We distract them," the driver said, his muffled voice carrying dark amusement beneath the words. "Lead them on a chase through the inn. Give you time to get clear with Bai. Professional courtesy—the mobile members draw pursuit while the injured are evacuated."
"It's suicide," Hu protested, though his body was already shifting toward the second-floor hallway, already accepting the plan even as his mouth formed objections. "They'll surround you. Capture or kill you both."
"Possibly," Zhung agreed with disturbing calm. "But probability of success is higher than staying together. You're strong but slow carrying Bai. The driver and I are mobile, adaptable, capable of combat and evasion without being encumbered by wounded companions."
His empty eyes met Hu's gaze.
"We split up. You run. We distract. Rendezvous at the southern gate checkpoint in two hours if possible. If not possible, assume capture or death and proceed without us. Get Bai to safety and report mission success to Li Huang. Those are the priorities."
The guards were advancing up the stairs now, moving cautiously but inexorably, weapons ready, shouting for surrender that none of them would seriously expect to be accepted.
"Go," Zhung commanded, his voice carrying absolute authority despite his youth and injuries. "Now. Before the window of opportunity closes."
Hu hesitated for one more heartbeat, his eyes moving between Zhung and the driver and Bai's unconscious form and the approaching guards.
Then he made his decision.
"Don't die, you little monster," Hu said to Zhung, his voice rough with emotion he rarely showed. "I still owe you for saving Bai. Can't repay debts to corpses."
"Noted," Zhung replied without emotion.
Hu turned and ran toward the second-floor hallway, his heavy footsteps echoing as he carried Bai toward the window they'd identified as emergency exit, toward escape and survival purchased with the sacrifice of his companions.
Which left Zhung and the driver alone on the landing, facing guards advancing from below and almost certainly more coming from above.
*Two against... I count eight visible below, probably another six to ten above,* Zhung calculated with cold precision. *Outnumbered seven to one at minimum. Enclosed space favoring their numerical advantage. Both of us injured—my shoulder, the driver's various wounds from last night.*
*Survival probability: extremely low.*
*Optimal strategy: maximum chaos, minimal predictability, exploitation of environmental advantages, fighting retreat toward areas where numbers matter less.*
The driver had pulled his daggers—the same weapons he'd used during the banquet, somehow recovered or replaced during their brief return to the inn. His stance shifted to combat-ready, weight balanced, breathing controlled despite exhaustion and injury.
"Like old times," the driver said quietly, and there was definitely dark humor in his muffled voice now. "Surrounded, outnumbered, probably about to die. Takes me back to my youth."
"You've done this before?" Zhung asked, genuinely curious despite the approaching violence.
"More times than I care to remember. Usually ended badly." The masked head tilted slightly. "But I'm still here, which suggests something about my survival skills or exceptional luck."
"Or both."
"Or both."
The guards reached the landing below them, weapons raised, faces showing the grim determination of professionals who knew they were facing dangerous opponents despite the numerical advantage.
"SURRENDER!" Wei Shao's voice echoed through the stairwell, the security chief himself appearing at the rear of the guard formation. His eyes locked onto Zhung with recognition and cold fury. "You cannot escape! The building is surrounded! Lay down your weapons and you will be taken alive for questioning! Resist and you will be cut down where you stand!"
Zhung looked at the driver, his dark eyes empty of everything except cold calculation.
"Ready?" he asked simply.
"Always," the driver replied.
"Good."
Then Zhung's right hand moved, forming the Stone Bullet technique despite his depleted Aperture, channeling the tiny amount of demonic blood he'd managed to regenerate during their brief rest in the cave.
The compressed stone materialized at his fingertip, crude and unstable but functional.
He didn't aim at the guards.
He aimed at the lantern hanging from the ceiling above them.
The stone bullet shot forward and struck the lantern dead center, shattering glass and igniting the oil within in a spray of flame that cascaded down onto the wooden stairs below.
Fire erupted immediately—hungry flames finding dry wood and spreading with terrifying speed, transforming the narrow stairwell into an inferno that would trap anyone trying to advance.
The guards fell back with shouts of alarm, some beating at flames on their clothes, others retreating to avoid the rapidly spreading fire.
"MOVE!" Zhung commanded, already running up the stairs toward the third floor, the driver following close behind, both of them using the chaos and flames to cover their retreat.
Behind them, Wei Shao's voice roared with fury: "AFTER THEM! DON'T LET THEM ESCAPE! SECURE ALL EXITS!"
But the fire was spreading faster than the guards could advance, consuming the back stairwell, creating a wall of flame and smoke that would delay pursuit for precious minutes.
Zhung and the driver burst onto the third floor and immediately encountered the guards who'd been advancing from above—six men, weapons drawn, blocking the hallway toward the front of the inn.
*No retreat. No escape through the way we came. Only option is through them.*
The driver didn't hesitate—his daggers flashed in the dim hallway light, his body moving with cultivator speed, engaging the closest guard before the man could raise his sword in defense.
Blood sprayed. The guard screamed and fell.
Zhung followed a heartbeat behind, his remaining dagger in his right hand, his left arm still useless but his legs and core providing power for devastating strikes.
He ducked beneath a sword swing, drove his blade up under a guard's jaw, felt it punch through soft tissue into the brain, pulled it free and spun toward the next target without pausing.
*No technique needed. No Will required. Just physical combat, fast and brutal and efficient. Kill or disable, create openings, keep moving forward.*
The hallway became a slaughterhouse—confined space forcing the guards to engage in groups of two or three rather than using their numbers effectively, the driver's incredible speed and Zhung's ruthless precision cutting through them with professional efficiency.
Five seconds. Three guards down, two wounded, one falling back in terror.
*Keep moving. Don't stop. Don't let them regroup.*
They ran down the hallway toward the front of the inn, their boots splashing through blood, their breathing controlled despite exertion, their minds focused entirely on survival and escape.
Behind them, more guards were entering the third floor, shouting alerts, coordinating pursuit.
Below them, the fire Zhung had started was spreading through the back stairwell, smoke beginning to fill the upper floors.
And somewhere ahead, more guards were surely positioning themselves to cut off their escape.
They reached the main stairwell—the grand entrance Zhung had walked up on his first night in this inn, a lifetime ago when he'd been a different person undertaking a mission that seemed simple in retrospect.
Guards blocked the descent—at least a dozen armed men positioned to prevent exactly this escape attempt, their formation solid and professional.
And standing at the center of that formation, sword drawn and eyes blazing with cold fury, was Wei Shao.
The security chief looked at Zhung and the driver with an expression that promised violence and pain and retribution for everything they'd done.
"End of the line," Wei Shao said quietly, his voice carrying clearly despite the chaos around them. "You're surrounded. The building is burning behind you. Guards block every exit. You have nowhere left to run."
His sword raised slightly, pointing at Zhung specifically.
"Surrender now and I'll make your deaths quick. Continue resisting and I'll ensure you live long enough to regret every choice that brought you to this moment."
Zhung and the driver stood at the top of the stairs, weapons in hand, injuries bleeding, exhaustion weighing on bodies pushed far beyond normal limits.
Surrounded by enemies. Trapped in a burning building. Outnumbered and outmaneuvered.
*This is it,* Zhung's cold mind acknowledged. *The final confrontation. No more running. No more contingencies. Just combat against impossible odds and the slim possibility that we can fight through them to freedom.*
*Or death. Probably death.*
*But not surrender. Never surrender.*
His right hand shifted grip on his dagger, adjusting the angle for optimal striking.
The driver's daggers moved in small circles, keeping muscles loose, preparing for the explosion of violence about to occur.
Wei Shao watched them with cold patience, seeing the determination in their postures, understanding that these two would fight to the death rather than accept capture.
"So be it," Wei Shao said, his voice carrying finality. "Guards—take them alive if possible. Dead if necessary. But take them."
The guards advanced up the stairs, weapons ready, formation tight, moving with coordinated precision that spoke of extensive training.
Zhung's dark eyes tracked them with analytical intensity, calculating angles and timing and the probability of survival.
*Twelve guards. Wei Shao himself. Confined stairwell favoring their numbers. My Aperture nearly empty. The driver exhausted. Both of us injured.*
*Odds of survival: negligible.*
*Odds of taking several enemies with us: excellent.*
*That will have to be enough.*
His muscles tensed, preparing for the final fight.
The driver shifted stance, ready to launch into the guards with desperate ferocity.
Wei Shao's eyes narrowed, recognizing that moment before violence erupts when all possibilities collapse into single certainty.
"NOW!" Wei Shao commanded.
The guards surged forward—
And Zhung and the driver met them with cold determination and the desperate fury of cornered predators who would die fighting rather than submit to capture.
The stairwell erupted into chaos.
Blood and steel and the sounds of combat filling the Jade Moon Inn as morning light streamed through windows and fire consumed the back of the building and four assassins made their final stand against the consequences of their choices.
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**End of Chapter 30**