The moment the four women stepped into the Forging District, an unsettling sense of unease washed over them.
The cacophony that should have filled the air—the rhythmic clang of hundreds of hammers forging steel—had vanished.
The symphony of war's prelude had fallen silent, replaced by an eerie stillness.
The only sound was the mournful howl of the wind.
Many shops had already lowered their heavy steel gates ahead of schedule.
Only a few dwarven blacksmiths peeked out from behind partially closed doors, whispering urgently and nervously to each other.
The familiar scent of coal ash and scorching metal, usually thick in the air, had been diluted.
In its place hung a cold, metallic tang—the chilling aura of weapons and death.
"Something's wrong," Su Wan said, her delicate brows furrowing slightly as she stopped walking. "It's too quiet."
Lin Xiyue gripped the hilt of her sword at her waist, instinctively stepping forward to shield the others.
"Over there," Xia Lian pointed to the far end of the street.
A large area of metal glinted with a blinding, icy light, blocking their path.
Just as they exchanged puzzled glances—
CLANG—!
An ear-splitting metallic clang erupted from the end of the street!
Immediately afterward came the muffled cries and unrestrained commotion of a crowd being forcibly suppressed.
The four exchanged glances, their movements synchronized with practiced precision.
They crouched low and quickened their pace, swiftly approaching the source of the commotion.
A fully armed squad was constructing a blockade in the middle of the street.
Their actions were efficient and ruthless.
Heavy tower shields and razor-sharp cheval de frise brutally severed the entire main thoroughfare.
The soldiers wore standard-issue Blackrock Stronghold military steam-powered armor.
The thick steel plates reflected a cold, indifferent light under the sun.
Behind them, massive bronze pistons roared in deep, rhythmic pulses, periodically venting searing steam that brutally forced the acrid stench of coal and burnt machine oil into everyone's nostrils.
But the most shocking sight was the uniformly torn insignia on their arms.
The badges that had once represented the City Lord's Guard now hung in ragged tatters, like hideous scars.
Rebellion.
The word flashed through everyone's minds.
A scarred officer climbed atop a cargo steam-powered armored vehicle parked by the roadside.
Facing the growing crowd of bewildered onlookers, he abruptly drew his standard-issue sword.
His voice, amplified by an alchemical loudspeaker, boomed across the street, filled with inflammatory fervor.
"Brothers and sisters of Blackrock Stronghold!"
"Look at this! Just look at the hell this city has become!"
He paused, giving the crowd a moment to digest his words. Suppressed whispers began to ripple through the crowd.
"A band of vagrant merchants, their origins shrouded in mystery, has coiled around us like vipers, preying on our people and plundering our wealth!"
"They've turned our families and friends into groveling dogs, wagging their tails behind them!"
This sentence struck the crowd like a hammer blow. Some adventurers instinctively clenched their fists, humiliation and fury burning in their eyes.
"Our dignity! They trample it underfoot, crushing it without mercy!"
"And what is our City Lord, Lord Punk, doing about it?!"
The officer roared in anger, his longsword pointing toward the distant City Lord's Mansion.
"He cowers behind high walls, paralyzed by inaction! His weakness is personally destroying Blackrock Stronghold!"
"We don't need a weak City Lord!" someone in the crowd shouted, igniting the fuse.
"We need a strong leader who will pick up a sword and purge these whores and their lackeys from our homeland!"
The officer raised his arm high. "Punk must abdicate! Blackrock Stronghold needs a truly strong leader!"
"Abdicate! Abdicate!" the crowd roared in unison.
Fueled by the invisible amplification of the Echo of the Heart's Abyss, the crowd's fury coalesced into near-tangible flames, igniting the entire street.
"Drive out those fox spirits!"
"We need a true leader!"
The rallying cries surged and swelled, pushing the frenzied atmosphere to its peak.
The situation was on a hair trigger.
"This is bad..." Xia Lian murmured, her left hand already gripping the body of her shortbow.
Lin Qingyue watched the impassioned officer, a cold smile curving her lips. "Look at this. Doesn't it feel like a meticulously rehearsed play? The lines, the emotions, the timing, the planted shills in the audience... it's all too perfect."
Su Wan immediately understood. "Someone's orchestrating this?"
"Exactly," Lin Qingyue nodded, her gaze slowly sweeping across the surrounding heights. "And the director always prefers the best vantage point to admire their masterpiece."
Her gaze finally settled on the most prominent building in the distance.
"Xia Lian, Eagle Eye Art. Don't rush to the stage. First, help me scan the audience... especially that tallest clock tower."
"Understood!"
Xia Lian immediately complied, the light in her pupils suddenly focusing into a sharp, intense glow.
Her vision zoomed in instantly, telescoping across the vast distance to lock onto the open-air balcony atop the clock tower with crystal clarity.
In the next instant, Xia Lian's breath caught in her throat for a split second.
On the terrace, a golden-haired youth in a luxurious silk robe reclined indolently on a chaise lounge, exuding an air of arrogant ease.
He had a fox-woman on each arm.
The leader among them was none other than Adela, the very fox-woman who had clashed with them earlier!
The golden-haired youth raised a glass of crimson wine, pointed at the chaotic scene below, and whispered something in Adela's ear.
Adela responded with a smile that oozed seductive malice.
She extended a slender, alabaster finger to point and gesture at the panicked crowd below, her movements graceful, as if critiquing a play that had nothing to do with her.
In those soul-stealing fox eyes, there was no hint of surprise—only the arrogance of one in complete control, and the cruel amusement of a cat toying with its prey.
The sight sent a chill down Xia Lian's spine.
"Captain!" she whirled around, her voice trembling with an urgency she hadn't even realized was there. "It's Adela! She's on the clock tower with a golden-haired man!"
"They're... they're watching the chaos like it's a show!"
As Xia Lian frantically recounted her observations, all the scattered clues in Lin Qingyue's mind suddenly snapped into place, forming a complete, chilling script.
A righteous and indignant mutiny?
No.
This was a meticulously planned coup d'état, orchestrated step by step by the forces behind the "traveling merchants."
First, they used "hunting" to create conflict, undermine morality, and foster division.
Second, they exploited the Echo of the Heart's Abyss to incite public resentment and trigger the mutiny.
Third, they would install their handpicked "strong leader" to "restore order" and "correct the chaos."
Finally, the entire Blackrock Stronghold would become their private property, as naturally as the sun rises.
A brilliant scorched-earth strategy.
A masterpiece of calculated theater.
Just then!
Kaboom! Kaboom! Kaboom!
Fierce gunfire erupted from the other end of the street!
It was the City Lord's Guard!
They had finally reacted and clashed head-on with the rebellious soldiers.
Magical light intertwined with the sparks from steam rifles across the street, stray bullets ricocheting everywhere, and the crowd's screams tore through the air, desperate and piercing.
Masses of civilians trapped in the streets were caught in the crossfire, fleeing in panic as the scene spiraled out of control.
Amidst the pandemonium, an errant fireball grazed the edge of the crowd and exploded. The shockwave staggered a burly figure shielding civilians.
Lin Qingyue's gaze snapped to the figure, her pupils contracting slightly—it was Zhou Yi, a Senior Brother from her academy!
He and his teammates had formed a makeshift defensive line, using their bodies as shields to desperately protect several terrified civilians as they retreated into a narrow alleyway.
Just as she assessed Zhou Yi's situation, a savage slash erupted from the other side, instantly felling two City Lord's Guardsmen.
Lin Qingyue's gaze swept across the scene, immediately locking onto several shadows darting through the crowd, exploiting the chaos to attack the guards.
With their blond hair, blue eyes, and sweeping, explosive combat skills—distinctly different from the local Professionals' fighting style—they stood out clearly.
One of them roared a battle cry in English.
Professionals from Western University! They're trying to fish in troubled waters!
Senior Brother Zhou Yi, the mastermind behind it all, foreign Professionals...
The fragmented scenes coalesced in Lin Qingyue's mind into a tangled web.
She instantly realized this was no longer a whirlpool they could simply avoid.
From the moment they stepped into this city, they had already been drawn into the game.
The entire Blackrock Stronghold had transformed into a vast hunting ground.
And they, along with everyone else, were the prey.
A chilling aura began to emanate from Su Wan, while Lin Xiyue silently raised the Immovable Mountain greatshield to protect the group.
The entire team was coiled tight, like a bowstring drawn taut.
Lin Qingyue surveyed the utterly chaotic street, a cold smirk playing on her lips.
"Someone's set the stage so grandly," she said. "It would be rude for us 'audience members' not to make an entrance."
"Prepare for battle."