The Four Great Clans sat in a conference meeting.

Three days has passed since the declaration of war. Jiang Cheng, his nephew, Lan Xichen, the GusuLan disciples, and the three couples returned from Ghost City. They were inside an office of Qinghe Nie.

"What is the reason for their declaration of war?" Jiang Cheng wore an ugly expression.

Nie Huaisang fanned himself. His position looked exactly the same to Shen Qingqiu.

Luo Binghe had to look twice before mistaking who his Shizun is.

"I'm betting on the possibility of this..." Lan Xichen sighed. He pulled something up from underneath the table—it was the Strongest Sword! Upon seeing that, everyone in the conference room were surprised, aside from the three couples.

Nie Huaisang took a deep breath. "Brother is right."

His robes of stone grey and bamboo green were made of expensive fabric, appearing equivalent to silk. Nie Huaisang's hair was laid across his back. The Clan Leader didn't bother to tie up his hair. It was like a waterfall of black ink, washing upon shores like strands of wheat.

"The soldiers from Ghost Nation declared that the Four Great Clans were interfering with their ghostly matters." Nie Huaisang explained. "We are cultivators and they are ghosts. We are living, and they are dead. Naturally, we wouldn't visit each other's territories. Thus, when we went to their territory at the auction house, the ghosts were enraged."

Jiang Cheng scoffed. "Let me guess. 'You dumb humans trespassed our lands, and also stole our treasure!' Is that why?"

Nie Huaisang passed him a thumbs up. "As expected of Clan Leader Jiang. You're smart!"

He turned around to look at the three couples. "I know HanGuang-Jun and Wei-xiong. However, the rest... I am not so familiar with. But since you guys are my friends' friends, then we are all friends!" A cheeky smile fell on his face.

Xie Lian nodded dumbly.

Hua Cheng crossed his arms across his chest.

Shen Qingqiu had nothing to say, while Luo Binghe was still struggling to distinguish between his Shizun and the Clan Leader. It's the fan... it's the fan...

"Since the ghost soldiers have already declared war on us, it is only right for us to reciprocate." Nie Huaisang explained. "I've already sent troops to the frontline. They're fighting against the ghost soldiers right at this moment."

Jiang Cheng was alarmed.

He rose up from his seat, then slammed his hands on the table. "Why should we have to engage in war with those damn ghosts!?! Call your troops back!"

Nie Huaisang snapped his fan shut. His eyes were closed, but at the sound of Jiang Cheng's alert, they fluttered open. A colour of hazel brown eyes were revealed. Those peach blossom eyes looked like they could see past everything. As if all of your thoughts were exposed to them.

"Clan Leader Jiang, are you saying that we should just let them one-sidedly attack us?"

Jiang Cheng's frown deepened.

"That's not what my uncle meant!" Jin Ling hurried to defend. "Why should we sacrifice our troops in this war? We have no ill will with them!"

"But they have ill will with us." Lan Zhan interrupted.

Hearing this, Jin Ling fell silent, alongside with his uncle.

"That is correct, HanGuang-Jun." Nie Huaisang explained. He wore a grim expression, as he recounted what'd happened in the past. "Just from yesterday, the ghost soldiers have killed over 20 villages in Qinghe Nie. Are you asking me to stand by and watch them continue to massacre more of my people?"

"That's not what I meant." Jiang Cheng sighed. A crease was evident on his forehead.

The conference room fell silent. Even the sound of a pin drop was audible. A wisp of the wind blew by the curtains, exposing a shine of the moonlight. The clouds parted, with a round moon shining in the midnight black skies.

"I don't like war either." Nie Huaisang spoke up. "But I don't like my people dying even more. Therefore, it is up to us leaders to make a decision."

Lan Xichen smoothened out the wrinkles on his white robes. His forehead ribbon danced to the winds' guidance, with its tail flailing like a flag on the sea's sail.

Wei Wuxian stepped forwards. "We'll be your soldiers."

Nie Huaisang was shocked. He looked at the three couples, who all stepped forwards without hesitation. A cheshire smile fell on his lips, "You're not soldiers. You're all Generals."

Feng Xin and Mu Qing loitered around the halls.

"When will they be done with the conference." Mu Qing sighed. His cat-like eyes rolled around, as if he hated everything at present. Feng Xin just ignored him, having been used to the Martial God for a long time already.

They explored the insides of Qinghe Nie's main base.

There were many weaponries, which stored several weapons used to fight in battles—battles that were happening in places right then.

"Bad news!" All of a sudden, they bumped into a fleeing soldier.

This soldier was a disciple of Qinghe Nie. He was badly badgered, with blood oozing out from his forehead. "The front line has fallen! We request backup immediately! The ghost soldiers are quickly making their way to the main base! We need to hurry!"

Feng Xin's eyes thinned at this.

The entire war reminded him of the War between Xianle and Yong'an. Mu Qing understood his thoughts and quickly called, "We need medics!"

Feng Xin hurriedly muttered underneath his breath, "Just recite the Ethics Sutra a thousand times." He quickly entered Xie Lian's private spiritual communication array, then relayed what had happened. "The frontline army has fallen. Backup is requested. Please relay this onto the Clan Leader."

He looked at the injured disciple, then asked, "How long until the ghost soldiers will make it here?"

The injured disciple was on the verge of passing out. He croaked out an answer.

At the same time, Xie Lian received the message.

Without hesitance, he broke out the news, "The frontline army has fallen!"

Shocked faces were written across all of the people's faces. Nie Huaisang was just explaining how strong his soldiers were. He'd collapsed out of his chair. Nobody helped him get up. Inside the conference room, the Clan Leaders had ugly faces. This is bad. They all knew what was going to happen next.

Nie Huaisang got up from the floor. "How long until the ghost soldiers reach the main base?"

Xie Lian asked the question through the private communication array. When he received an answer, the Martial God's face had instantly paled. "According to estimation, in about an hour, an army of at least 30,000 ghost soldiers will arrive at the main base."

Everyone's face changed colour.

Qinghe Nie disciples were gathered in the main hall. Some stood tall, ready for a battle. However, majority of them were sitting down-spiritedly. Their slumped bodies leaned against the walls, and they knew for a fact—that they were going to die as well.

Their friends on the frontlines died, so why won't they?

"Hey, cheer up!" This was one of the two disciples that the three couples met in Ghost Nation. He tried to make his brothers think, "We have to be strong! We are disciples, and we must fight for our kingdom!"

"We're going to die anyways." The mourning atmosphere was still there.

The Qinghe Nie disciples knew that their end was about to come. We have to fight against ghost soldiers—and so many of them too. 30,000 ghost soldiers. We need to expend a lot of energy just to fight ten. However, multiplying that amount by 3,000 is crazy! There's no way we can do this!

We're going to die. We're going to die. We're going to die.

There is no hope. There is no hope. There is no hope.

This is too much. This is too much. This is too much.

"They don't look so fine," Wei Wuxian passed by. He could sense the downed spirits of the Qinghe Nie disciples from miles away.

Lan Zhan nodded, "Mn."

"They've only been cultivating and kept away from the danger of war. Most of the Qinghe Nie disciples are only teenagers. Some of them have never killed before." Wei Wuxian sighed. Once your hands have been stained with blood, there is no way to wash off the liquid. You can never change.

Your hands will forever be covered in that horrible stench...

"LISTEN UP!" A great holler had awaken everyone. The disciples looked up, and found two odd figures standing on the podium.

Feng Xin and Mu Qing were there. Their postures were upright and standing tall, as if nothing could possibly push them down. Feng Xin was muscular and toned, with a handsome face sculpted. Mu Qing was more slender and pale, with his sword buckled next to his belt.

These two figures caught the attention of many disciples.

"WE ARE HEADING TO WAR." Nobody could hide the truth. Therefore, it must be said earlier than necessary.

"There is no helping it." Feng Xin blurted. "It is either they die, or we die-"

He was immediately shoved off of the podium. Mu Qing pretended like he wasn't the one that did so. Feng Xin collapsed on the ground, then hurriedly stood back up. He was infuriated and yelled, "Hey! What was that for!?!"

"Your speech is so downhearted." Mu Qing stated coldly. "I could get a tumour just from merely listening. Now, shut up and let me do the talking."

His martial robes flailed in the air, as he turned sharply to look at the disciples. There were only 30,000 Qinghe Nie disciples. A far difference of numbers compared to the ghost soldiers. But...

"What makes you think that we're going to lose?" Mu Qing sneered. "Just because your frontline buddies died doesn't mean that you will! How many people were in the frontline? Just a measly 10,000! However, look at you guys! There are 10,000 more! Twice as much as the original amount that died!"

The information settled into the disciple's brains.

"Now let me ask you again, do you truly think that we're going to lose!?!"

The Qinghe Nie disciples were stunned. Truly, they've never thought about their situation like that. They were thinking about the large difference between their own numbers compared to the enemies'. But... they never thought about the large difference between their frontline numbers compared to their numbers now...

"You are all disciples of Qinghe Nie." Mu Qing scoffed. His cat-like eyes rolled. "If the Clan falls down, then that means you have no worth!"

"You are people of your clan! You were born because of this clan!" He spoke seriously with a strict voice. Even though he didn't yell out his words, Mu Qing's voice had transferred to everyone's ears. "You must defend your clan! You must defend your home! You must defend the place that made you become you!"

At the bottom of the podium, Feng Xin was stunned. I didn't know that this pretty boy Martial God could give out such enlightening speeches.

"The DNA of this clan runs in your blood!" Mu Qing sternly stated. "This place gave birth to you—soldiers who will fight proudly to defend its existence! This place gave you shelter! This place gave you food! Friends! Happiness! Warmth! Power! Education! This place gave you everything—and you will repay it! Serve your body, mind, and every being! Show your worth!"

Images of Xianle reappeared in his mind. Mu Qing shook his head, "So, please do stand up and do not run away. If you run away now and survive... I promise you that you will regret it for the rest of your life."

The Qinghe Nie disciples had no words left to say.

A disciple had thrown his fist upwards, "PROTECT OUR CLAN! LET'S PROTECT OUR PEOPLE!"

"YES! REPAY OUR CLAN!"

"LET'S GO TO WAR!"

"LET'S FIGHT!"

The Qinghe Nie disciples were all fired up. They were all ready for war—they were all ready to protect and to fight for their clan.

"...but, how will we kill all 30,000 ghost soldiers?"

At last, the most important question was asked. Again, the atmosphere had went dark and downhearted. Clouds have covered the blue skies again.

"Do not fret." Heavy footsteps had clambered on the floor. The footsteps echoed throughout the entire main hall, resounding and bouncing off the walls. A familiar figure entered the room. His figure was manly and muscular, with his black and red robes tight around his body. A red demonic mark glowed on the man's forehead.

Luo Binghe stepped forwards. "I have a way to kill the ghost soldiers."

The Qinghe Nie disciples were shocked. "How?"

"No way! There are way too many of them! There's no way we would be able to kill them!"

"Is he messing with us?"

Luo Binghe looked at the disciples, then sneered. "You guys dare to call yourselves disciples of Qinghe Nie? Just from looking at your pitiful reactions so far, I would've assumed that this was a gathering of rich second generation young masters."

In the back, Shen Qingqiu couldn't hold back his laughter.

"Shh!" Wei Wuxian clasped a hand over his mouth, beneath the fan.

Luo Binghe sighed. "I do have a method to kill all 30,000 ghost soldiers. And it isn't some sort of bullshit method that if it doesn't work, it will eliminate all our chances of survival."

"Really?" The Qinghe Nie disciples were surprised.

"Hurry and tell us!"

"What is the method!?!"

"Yeah! What is it?"

Luo Binghe's eyes were cold, as he exclaimed, "I will unsheathe the Strongest Sword."

An excerpt of "Demon Lord" Luo Binghe's diary:

Today, I met this weird guy. Everyone calls him Clan Leader Nie; Nie Huaisang. But to me, I would like to call him Shizun 2.0. He is Shizun's impostor! He always have his fan—just like Shizun. It makes me despise him. I want to tear off his mask and see what's really underneath!

Or maybe it's because he calls himself Wei Wuxian's friend, but doesn't really act like one.

Nie Huaisang looks like the type of person who would act like an innocent passerby (the kind that's like a damsel in distress), revive an evil legend from the dead, then manipulate them into killing their own enemy. Yeah... that sounds about right.

Anyways, I won't let him continue to act like Shizun any longer! I will try and find a way to discard his fan, and hide it so that he won't ever find it again!

Mwahaha! ᕙ('▿')ᕗ Isn't that very evil of me? Well, since I am a Demon Lord, I try my best to be as scary as possible.

Shizun would be proud of me if he knew my plan.

...right? (◑́_◑᷅ )