Courtyard of the Ye Clan Manor.

‘That’s the line crossed.’ thought Aryon. ‘Now I’ve really interfered with the going-ons here.’

He could’ve justified his previous actions as a reaction to being pushed, but the events transpiring before his eyes was all him. The curing of the patriarch, and his actions after that, will be linked to him in the end, and he will have to own up to the consequences of it all, be they good or bad. But he understood that fact.

Now he needed to finish this right to the very end or see innocents pay for his callousness.

‘I remember now why I’m dead. Damn it, Arry. You’ve spent too long being a weapon that you’ve forgotten how be a good emissary. Being led around by girls and princes, playing hero when you’ve a task to do…’

‘Bah. Things were so simpler back then… A wake up call, blast a few things, give some advice… Then back to sleep to wait for the next king’s problems. Pray that, when this is all over, our kindly liege will only lock you up in the coffin and place you under the Royal Vault forever.’

He stood at the back, eyes scanning each face in the crowd while the two brothers were having their first talk in a long time. Unsurprisingly, the contents of their exchange were filled with wrath.

“You dared to harm your own family! How could you do this to me!?”

“Because you were weak! With your forces and your power, you could have taken all of this prefecture by now. Instead you played nice and allowed the Bai Clan to walk all over you!”

“What I did was for the good of all people here. But you wouldn’t understand; you spent your days lounging around while I warred and killed. What do you know of conflict and what it brings?!”

“All I know is that you’ve made this clan stagnant! Feeble! If you won’t bring the Ye Clan to glory as you did before, then I will.”

As the exchange became more heated, Aryon was singling out the biggest threats on the opposing side. There were two black-armoured practitioners near Ye Shao, from the prince’s entourage given their familiar garb, that caught his attention.

He nudged at the monk in front of him, whispering in his ear in a conspiratorial manner. The monk nodded in reply.

It didn’t take long for the argument to finish. By then, all was set in place when the two lords gave their commands.

“Those of you who are still loyal and true to the Ye Clan, follow me and remove these traitors!”

“Men! Kill them! We end this now!”

A tide of red bodies collided with a similar wave of mixed black-and-red, sending out a thundering cacophony of clanging iron, cutting flesh and death-screams. Ye Shao had gone straight for his brother, his bought mace in hand. The frail-looking patriarch didn’t flinch in the slightest and picked up a spear from the ground to engage him, followed by Cao Yang.

The prince’s two subordinates also moved in, but Aryon and his monk ally struck faster. As San Zheng moved to intercept their intended target, Aryon's hand swept out towards their direction with a spell on his 'lips'.

Bands of blue light surrounded their mark, stopping him in place. It didn’t hold him for long as he mustered his Nascent Soul cultivation to break through the binding. But that moment’s hesitation was all the monk needed.

Chanting his mantras, the monk raised an open palm high above and swept it down on the opponent’s helmed head. There came a sickening crunch of metal and bone, followed by a spurt of crimson.

‘One down.’

The other Nascent Soul practitioner was too late to save his ally, so he went to attack his killer. While the monk and the prince’s subordinate clashed, Ye Shao was being menaced by both Cao Yang and the patriarch.

The patriarch was faring badly; seven years on a bed doesn’t do one’s body any good. While he was still a Nascent Soul Realm cultivator like his brother, his moves were rusty and his steps sluggish in comparison; Cao Yang had to play support and protect his liege from his own mistakes many times. But he fought with a ferocity seen only from a man freed from a long, unfair imprisonment.

Ye Shao, in comparison, was fresh and armed with powerful gear. Even with the two-on-one handicap, he held his ground and took opportunities to put his sibling down when he faltered.

Aryon went straight for the battling brothers, his free hand menacing with the white glow of a prepared spell. He pointed at the duelling Ye Shao with that same hand.

Ye Shao was winding up another mace strike only to suddenly double over, laughing hysterically. His two opponents backed away, confused for a moment, before taking the advantage and striking at his un-armoured parts.

Even with the spell afflicting him Ye Shao twisted and turned his body, narrowly avoiding lethal strikes, yet the trickle of red from the gaps in his armour betrayed his close calls with death.

Now realising his dangerous situation, Ye Shao broke off from the duel and ran to his guards while his two attackers gave pursuit. Aryon was the faster one, however. He made a grasping motion with his hand, then pulled his arm backwards. Ye Shao down as if tugged, sending him on his back and actually sliding him backwards to his pursuers.

Cao Yang was quick to take advantage. Arriving at Ye Shao’s prone body, he raised his iron-clad boot and brought it down to his chest before putting his greatspear’s point to his neck.

“Stand down! It’s over!”

At Cao Yang’s words, the guards in combat ceased their duels and turned to the scene of him standing over Ye Shao’s body. Some chose this lull in the combat to flee, which included the prince’s remaining Nascent Soul lackey. Those that remained either gave a cheer or looked on at the victors with ashen faces.

Ye Long quietly hobbled over to where his brother remained prone, spear pointing downwards in his hand. There was that anger still in his eyes, along with a hint of disappointment.

“Patriarch.” said monk San Zheng as he quickly approached his liege. “Do not be so hasty. Fratricide is a great sin before the eyes of heaven.”

“After all he’s done, you want me to be merciful to him?”

“I do not mean to be merciful. Truly, Ye Shao deserves to be punished. But would you have your brother’s blood in your hands?”

“If it meant righting several wrongs and giving peace to this land, yes.”

Aryon watched the moral debate, standing back and waiting for a decision. ‘Whichever way they deal with the man, I hope it’s lasting.’

In the end, the monk’s sanctimonious words convinced the patriarch. Stripped of his armour by Cao Yang, Ye Shao was lifted up by his brother and, with a surprising force from a seven-year bedridden man, was punched repeatedly in specific points of his body.

Bruised and beaten, the patriarch dropped the unconcious Ye Shao to the ground. “I’ve crippled his cultivation, and he can no longer pose a threat to us. Take him away. I shall pass judgement on him when all is done.”

Cao Yang had the beaten lord dragged to one of the mansion’s rooms before turning his attention to the guards, loyal and otherwise. Ye Long stood by his monk friend, breathing deeply the open air as he closed his eyes to savor his victory.

“Where is my son? And- ah, you.” said the patriarch as he approached Aryon. “A thousand thanks can never truly show my gratitude for your help.”

“That’s all fine and good. I am glad to be of service.”

“Your method was… strange, but it was what saved the lord in the end.” added the monk. “But don’t do it again.”

Aryon nodded. “Only when it’s needed, I promise.”

“Is there any way I can repay you, friend?” asked the patriarch.

‘Here we go.’ thought Aryon. “There is one way you can repay me. Can you talk to the Green Blade Forest Sect grandmaster on my behalf?.”

“Yang Kai, that old dog? I will have to talk with him soon, if what you’ve told me about the situation in the prefecture is true..”

Aryon felt relief in his non-existent heart. “That’s precisely why I needed you, patriarch, and why I came to help. But I’m a little pressed for time.”

He stepped up towards him, leaning down to whisper. “I need you to talk with him now.”