It was the same after the last meal—as soon as I finished eating, no one paid me any mind. Only after a while did a maid come to show me the way.
I sat before the low table, my gaze resting on the three-legged small cauldron. It was still in its usual place, unmoved. The patterns of snakes, frogs, and long-beaked birds on its surface shimmered faintly in the candlelight.
The bamboo slips must have been replaced. There were far fewer now.
The door opened. The Gray-Robed Maid knelt on the ground and said softly, “Madam, please come with me.”
I had just reached the doorway when I saw that the servants were moving about the estate’s corridors in noticeably greater numbers. Yet everyone kept low, their footsteps exceedingly light.
Before long, a palace attendant in the standard official robes of the Dian Royal Palace appeared hurriedly at the end of the corridor, leading two guards.
His face was deathly pale, and his forehead was slick with cold sweat. When he reached the entrance to the Witch King’s bedchamber, he did not dare approach. He dropped to both knees a dozen paces away and said in a trembling voice, “Your Majesty, the King of Dian has issued an edict, urgently requesting that you enter the palace to discuss matters!”
The attendant bowed his head even lower, almost burying it in the ground.
I did not dare linger. I followed the Gray-Robed Maid out of the hall, and only at the last moment, as I left, did I look back and see someone lead the attendant inside.
I could not see the Witch King, but I could feel how much everyone feared him. Even the people at the King of Dian’s side were no exception.
A moment later, the attendant rose as if reprieved, scrambling to his feet and hurrying forward with his back bent.
I had a feeling something major was about to happen.
The King of Dian was ashen-faced, slumped on his throne with no color in his cheeks. Below the steps, dozens of civil and military officials knelt in a heap, silent as cicadas in winter.
More than a dozen bamboo slips sent back from the front lay scattered across the floor in the center of the hall.
“Report—” A messenger covered in blood was dragged into the hall. He barely managed to utter a single word before spitting blood and dying on the spot.
“Seventeen fortresses! All seventeen border outposts fell within a single day!” An old general’s beard and hair trembled wildly, his voice hoarse. “The Yelang Kingdom’s thirty thousand troops advanced along three routes. The hundred-mile defensive line in eastern Dian has… has fallen!”
“Your Majesty! The Yelang Army is utterly formidable, and its soldiers fight without fear of death. Our troops, our troops were routed at the first clash!”
“Your Majesty, please send envoys to sue for peace at once, or the royal city will be in danger!”
Calls for peace rose one after another, and the King of Dian’s face turned from white to blue. He suddenly slammed the armrest of his throne and roared, “Peace? How can we make peace? The King of Yelang wants the land and people of the Dian Kingdom, along with everything I’ve built! Do you expect me to hand it all over?”
His roar echoed through the hall, but no one dared respond.
Just then, the Witch King’s voice came from outside the hall.
“Your Majesty, there is no need to panic.”
The hubbub throughout the hall stopped abruptly. Every official, including the King of Dian on his throne, stiffened involuntarily.
The Witch King stepped slowly into the hall.
He was still wearing that simple black robe. His boots made no sound on the stone floor. His face, far too young and handsome, was utterly expressionless.
“Witch King.” Even with the King of Dian seated above them, the officials still rose and bowed.
Then they pressed their heads to the floor, their bodies shaking like sieves. They were terrified of him, mainly because the Witch King was so unpredictable, drawing his sword and killing people at the slightest provocation.
The Witch King walked to the center of the hall and casually nudged a bloodstained bamboo slip up with his toe. After glancing at it, he said coolly, “The Yelang people have invaded.”
He lifted his eyes, his pale gaze sweeping over the King of Dian. “Your Majesty’s soldiers seem utterly useless.”
The King of Dian flushed scarlet. “They… they’re all ordinary men. How could they withstand the Yelang Kingdom’s wolfish army? The King of Yelang came prepared this time. His forces include not only barbarian warriors, but also Gu Masters from the Southern Frontier! The only one who can save the Dian Kingdom now is you, with your supreme Witchcraft!”
“Since Your Majesty has given the order, I will naturally do what I can to ease your burden.” He turned toward the King of Dian. “However, I need something.”
The King of Dian looked up, wariness flashing in his eyes. “What?”
The Witch King parted his thin lips.
“The Muchen Pearl.”
“You’re insane!” He practically ground the words out through clenched teeth. “That is the Nation-Protecting Treasure, a sacred object that can communicate with ghosts and gods during sacrifices! How dare you even think of touching it?”
“A sacred object?” The Witch King let out a soft laugh.
He took a step forward. The invisible pressure made the King of Dian retreat half a step without meaning to.
“In your hands, it’s just a stone you use to entrust your grief to. In mine”—the Witch King raised his pale, slender fingers and made a loose fist in the air—“it will become a true divine artifact.”
“You…” The King of Dian trembled with rage.
“I can win.” The Witch King cut him off, his tone terrifyingly calm. “The Yelang Kingdom, the King of Yelang, and all those so-called barbarian allies under his command are nothing but walking flesh and blood to me. With the Muchen Pearl as a catalyst, I can make them rot into puddles of pus in the miasma of Ailao Mountain without a sound.”
His description was so gruesome, yet his expression was as if he were discussing something utterly ordinary.
The officials kneeling below were drenched in sweat from fear.
The King of Dian’s breathing grew ragged. As he looked at the demonic Great Shaman before him, a bone-deep chill rose in his heart.
“The King of Yelang has announced that after resting for a month, he will launch an all-out attack on the royal city.” The Witch King’s voice was like a final ultimatum from hell. “You have a month. You can keep sitting here clutching your Nation-Protecting Treasure, waiting for the city to fall and your kingdom to perish, or…”
He paused and looked directly into the King of Dian’s eyes.
“Give it to me, and let the entire Yelang Kingdom be destroyed.”
The King of Dian closed his eyes. Sweat trickled down his temples.
After a long while, he let out a deep sigh. “I’ll have someone deliver the Muchen Pearl shortly. Go prepare to set out for battle.”
After returning to the courtyard with the Gray-Robed attendant, I pulled A Ya into the room. I pointed at my ear, then outside, and gestured for her to go find out what was happening.
A Ya nodded and left.
Her sources of information were broader than I had imagined. About an hour later, she returned, drenched in sweat.
“Madam, there’s going to be a war.”
I made a gesture telling her to explain in detail.
“The Yelang Kingdom has invaded.” A Ya crouched in front of me, her voice very low and her words coming fast. “They say all our border troops have been wiped out. The enemy is almost at Ailao Mountain.”
Thirty thousand.
I closed my eyes for a moment.
In Ghost Blows Out the Light, King Xian declared himself king before the Dian Kingdom fell, and the Dian Kingdom was conquered by Emperor Wu of Han’s army, not by Yelang.
In other words, the Dian Kingdom did not fall in this war.
The Dian Kingdom won.
And the key to that victory was the Witch King.
“There isn’t a single capable fighter among the court officials. Maybe the King of Dian had no other choice and turned to the Witch King,” A Ya said uncertainly. “After all, he’s the Great Shaman of the Dian Kingdom. The Witch King’s Witchcraft is bound to turn the tide.”
The order reached the side courtyard faster than I had expected.
An incense stick later, two Gray-Robed Maids stood expressionlessly at the courtyard gate and delivered the order: “Madam is to pack at once and accompany the king on his campaign.”
A campaign?
I never expected that when that madman went to war, he would take me along too.