Chapter 26: The Calm Before the Game
While every clan in Wu City plotted behind closed doors, another council gathered—one steeped in fury and sharpened by ambition.
Lamplight bathed the Jiang Clan's main hall. Orange flames stretched across polished wood, shadows writhing as a cold draft slipped through carved latticework. Elders sat in a crescent below the high seat, their voices carrying the edge of restrained anger—thin enough to cut.
No one had expected the day to spiral this far.
"Clan Head," an elder said at last, resentment thick beneath the formality, "we didn't foresee this. Stronger or not, how dare they trample on the Jiang Clan? This is Wu City, not Stormrise Mountain. They don't rule here."
Murmurs flared like sparks on dry tinder.
The statement struck the air like a spark tossed into dry tinder, igniting a wave of heated murmurs from the others.
At the head of the hall, Jiang Beiming, the Clan Head, sat unmoving—his posture regal yet cold, as though carved from an unyielding slab of stone. The flames reflected in his sharp eyes, but they revealed no warmth, only a chill that could freeze marrow.
Another elder leaned forward, his voice trembling with anger yet edged with caution.
"Today's matter," he began bitterly, "has gone too far. We never intended to clash openly with the Wu Clan yet—as the saying goes, a dying camel is still bigger than a horse. But now? With the way things unfolded…"
He hesitated, the weight of his next words dragging against his tongue.
"I just received word—Wu Lu is in critical condition. His right knee is nearly shattered. For someone at his level, this will cripple his progress for months… maybe longer. His talent will stagnate."
The words detonated like thunder in the hall. Shock rippled across the elders' faces, stiffening even those who prided themselves on unshakable composure.
"This means," the elder continued grimly, his voice low and heavy, "the Wu Clan won't stay silent. This isn't a simple injury—it's humiliation."
Before anyone could respond, Jiang Hongyi, the Great Elder, slammed his palm lightly on the armrest of his chair. The sharp crack silenced the room as his voice rang out, cold as forged iron.
"And not only that," Jiang Hongyi said, each word a blade, "those Lei brats dared to scorn their own allies! Yes, Jiang Chu lost, but did they need to mock him publicly? Curse him in front of everyone?"
His tone deepened, rolling through the hall like distant thunder.
"This wasn't just a defeat—it was a public execution of confidence. They crushed his spirit. And now? Even the other juniors feel it—the sting of shame, the weight of doubt. This… this is poison seeping into our clan's morale."
The silence that followed was almost deafening, heavy with humiliation and simmering rage.
Finally, Jiang Beiming's voice cut through the air, steady and calm, yet carrying a sharp edge that made the elders instinctively straighten their backs.
"Grand Elder," he began, his sharp gaze locking on Hongyi, "we do not need to dwell on the Wu Clan. Remember—when Wu Yuan smashed our juniors, what could we do? Nothing—except send more of our own. The same principle binds Wu Clan now. They cannot interfere directly. If they dare break their own rules and step onto that ring, they will become the laughingstock of Wu City. That," his voice sharpened, "they cannot afford."
His words sank like stones into deep, dark water. Several elders exchanged glances and nodded slowly.
"In the younger generation," Jiang Beiming continued, his voice now soft, almost mocking, "there are only a handful in this city who could even rival the Lei juniors. Wu Yuan of the Wu Clan has emerged these last few days, yes—capable, talented, cunning. His record speaks for itself." A faint smirk ghosted across Jiang Beiming's lips. "But at the end of the day, he is only eight years old. Only publicly listed as Level Four Body Tempering. Tell me," his eyes gleamed like cold steel, "what kind of storm can a single child stir against the tempest of Lei Clan's prodigies?"
The question hung like a challenge in the air, unanswered.
"Then what do we do?" another elder finally asked, his voice tentative.
"What we've done so far," Jiang Beiming replied coldly, every syllable like a hammer striking stone. "We wait. We watch. And we do nothing… for now."
Shock flickered in several pairs of eyes.
"But the juniors—" one began.
"—are frustrated?" Jiang Beiming cut him off, his tone cracking like a whip. "Good. Let them be. If they cannot overcome this blow, then they were never worthy of carrying our banner into the future. Let Wu Clan and Lei Clan exhaust themselves in this little game. If Wu Clan manages to defeat those Lei brats, so be it. It benefits us indirectly. And if Lei Clan crushes Wu juniors?" His voice darkened, a predator's growl curling at the edge. "Even better. Wu Clan's face will shatter before all of Wu City, and then… our plans move forward faster."
He leaned forward slightly, his fingers tapping lightly on the carved armrest, each tap echoing like a countdown to something inevitable.
"Wu Clan has ruled Wu City long enough. Their roots are old… brittle. It is time the soil was overturned."
A chill swept through the hall, heavier and sharper than the winter wind clawing outside.
Then, as if dismissing a trivial matter, Jiang Beiming's tone shifted, becoming almost casual—but the weight in his voice did not lighten.
"By the way, the Grand Elder Jiang Baoyu will be emerging tomorrow, correct?"
"Yes, Clan Leader," Jiang Hongyi replied immediately, though he could not hide the flicker of anticipation in his eyes.
"Good." Jiang Beiming's lips curved into a razor-sharp smile.
"Let him visit the duel ring tomorrow. Let him watch the game unfold—and let the Lei Clan watch him. They should be reminded that the Jiang Clan does not lack talents who can rival their so-called geniuses. If they wish to cooperate with us, they'll need to rein in their juniors."
Jiang Hongyi's eyes gleamed with renewed fire, excitement rolling off him like heat from a roaring blaze. His knuckles tightened against the chair's armrest, leaving faint indentations in the polished wood.
At last… the time to show the Jiang Clan's true strength draws near.
The room filled with a dangerous, simmering energy, as if the entire clan itself had drawn a deep breath—waiting, watching, ready to strike when the moment came.
Elsewhere in Wu City – Lei Clan Courtyard
The night air outside bit cold against the skin, but inside the Lei Clan's temporary courtyard, the atmosphere burned with barely contained frustration. Lanterns swayed gently in the breeze, casting shifting shadows across the stone floor where the juniors stood in a tense line, their faces tight with questions they could no longer hold back.
Lei Hanwu was the first to break, his voice slicing through the taut silence.
"Father," he said sharply, anger barely leashed beneath his words, "what's the meaning of all this? I don't understand at all! Why do we need to cooperate and act as the Jiang Clan just to defeat Wu Clan juniors? If we wanted to make the Wu Clan understand they can't trample on the Lei Clan's dignity, then we should face them openly—as ourselves! Not like this!"
His words reverberated in the still air like the clash of swords. Several juniors nodded in fierce agreement, their eyes burning with the same confusion and pride.
Lei Zhenyu stepped forward, his tone echoing Hanwu's defiance.
"He's right. This… this doesn't make sense. We are Lei Clan—not some nameless force skulking behind masks."
Across from them, the elders remained seated in unyielding calm, their faces carved with the serenity of mountains. Fifth Elder Lei Jinghong's eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of steel flashing in their depths, but he did not speak. The only sound was the faint rustle of robes and the distant hiss of the brazier's flames.
Then, at last, the Second Elder stirred. His voice, when it came, was quiet—but in that quiet lay the weight of an avalanche.
"Let me ask you something," he said slowly, his words deliberate, almost cold. "Do you truly believe we came here just to humiliate the Wu Clan because they rejected our offer? Do you think elders from every line of the Lei Clan left Stormrise Mountain… just for that?"
The question struck like a thunderbolt. The juniors froze, their anger faltering as unease flickered across their faces.
"If that is what you think," the Second Elder continued, his voice now a blade honed to killing sharpness, "then you are gravely mistaken."
A chill swept through the courtyard, prickling like icy needles against their skin.
"Although I cannot share every detail," he said, each word laced with finality, "understand this much—the Clan Leader has far greater plans in motion than any of you realize. And I…" His lips curved ever so slightly, the shadow of a smile carrying something dangerous. "…I have adjusted those plans to fit the current situation. That is all you need to know."
His gaze swept across each junior, pinning them like insects under a needle.
"Your task is simple: step onto that ring and fight. Win. Show no weakness. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Elder," came the reluctant but unified reply, their earlier resistance swallowed by the crushing weight of authority.
"One more thing," the Second Elder added, his tone dropping to a growl that coiled like a predator ready to strike. "Since we wear the Jiang Clan's face, behave accordingly. Today's little… display toward the Jiangs? Never again. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Elder," the juniors echoed again, though shame and irritation simmered beneath their words.
"Good. Leave."
The juniors bowed deeply before turning and filing out, their footsteps heavy, echoing like distant war drums as they disappeared into the shadows.
Once the sliding doors shut, silence reclaimed the courtyard, broken only by the soft crackle of the brazier's flames. The faint glow illuminated the elders' faces, casting them in sharp relief.
Lei Jinghong finally spoke, his voice low, tense.
"Will today's incident affect the plan?"
The question lingered like a blade suspended over their heads. None of the other elders spoke; their expressions were masks of unyielding calm, betraying nothing.
"Yes," the Second Elder admitted at last, his tone deliberate and heavy. "The city will begin to suspect. Some may even guess the truth—that we are not truly Jiang Clan. But it doesn't matter."
He leaned back slightly, shadows flickering across his sharp features as the brazier flared, its flames twisting like a storm wind.
"This will only delay us by a fraction. The seed has already been sown. Now… we wait for it to bear fruit."
Fifth Elder's eyes darkened, but he nodded in grim understanding.
The Second Elder rose, his robes flowing like storm clouds across a darkened sky. His voice, when he spoke, carried a note of anticipation sharp enough to draw blood.
"Go and rest. Tomorrow…" His lips curled, and for a fleeting moment, the fire in the brazier seemed to leap higher, as if answering his words. "…tomorrow will be a very exciting day."
Beyond the courtyard walls, the cold wind swept over Wu City, howling softly through sleeping streets. Lanterns guttered as if the city itself flinched before tomorrow's storm—the hidden currents twisting beneath the surface.
Tomorrow, the duel ring would not merely be a stage.
It would become a battlefield—a crucible where pride, power, and ambition would collide.