The atmosphere in Pine City had grown thick with tension, like a heavy cloud that clung to the streets and seeped into every corner. Even with the Iron Blood Cell Tournament fast approaching—a once exciting prospect that had stirred anticipation and energy throughout the city—there was a growing sense of dread.
The streets that were once filled with eager chatter about upcoming matches were now muted, overshadowed by whispers of disappearances and gruesome murders.
The Golden Warriors, once seen as an impenetrable force, were now overwhelmed and understaffed. Their presence in the streets, once a reassuring sight, now served as a reminder of the grim reality that had befallen Pine City.
Murders continued to occur, the bodies of victims found drained of life, and with each new discovery, the hope and excitement that had once characterized the city faded further into despair. Even those who had come from afar for the tournament found themselves on edge, their usual competitive spirit dulled by the oppressive atmosphere.
Today, however, the city's focus was not on the tournament but on the funeral of Yan Ming, the youngest son of the patriarch of the Yan Family. His death had cast a long shadow over Pine City, and while the details of his demise remained shrouded in secrecy, it was enough to unite the populace in grief.
The streets were filled with a somber silence as a silent march wound its way through the city. Mourners, dressed in plain white robes, walked quietly in unison, heads bowed in prayer for Yan Ming's soul to find peace. Candles flickered in their hands, small flames struggling against the cold wind.
They whispered prayers as they moved, their voices soft but filled with emotion, hoping that their collective grief could somehow guide the young man's spirit to rest.
The procession ended in the heart of the Yan Family compound, at a grand hall reserved for occasions of mourning. The hall was vast, its walls lined with soft white tapestries that draped from ceiling to floor. In the center of the room lay Yan Ming's coffin, adorned with intricate carvings and surrounded by offerings of incense and flowers.
White candles were placed at every corner, their flames casting a gentle glow over the somber gathering. The scent of incense filled the air, thick and sweet, mingling with the soft sobs of mourners.
The aura of the hall was heavy, as if the grief of the entire city had settled into the very walls. The Yan family stood at the forefront, their faces pale and drawn, dressed in ceremonial mourning attire. Yan Li stood tall beside the coffin, his usually fierce demeanor softened by the weight of his loss.
His face was an impassive mask, though his eyes were red, betraying the sorrow he was trying to conceal.
Around the hall, every influential figure in Pine City had gathered to pay their respects. The heads of prominent clans, the wealthy merchants, the Golden Warriors, and even representatives from the far corners of the kingdom had come to offer their condolences. They lined the walls, heads bowed in reverence, their murmured condolences adding to the hushed atmosphere.
But the third consort cut him off, her voice rising above his. "I know exactly what I'm saying!" she cried, her voice cracking with emotion. "I know what you are, Yan Li. And I know what you've done! You think you can stand here, pretending to mourn our son, while you hide the truth behind your lies? How dare you?"
Gasps rippled through the crowd as she continued, her words striking like a blade through the air. "Fourteen years ago!" she shouted, pointing a trembling finger at Yan Li. "Fourteen years ago, you made a deal with the blood witches! You were jealous of Yan Bei Shang and Wei Mi, so you sold them out!
You gave the blood witches the location of the beast vein, and in return, they promised to kill them during the beast invasion!"
Whispers erupted from the crowd. Shocked faces turned toward Yan Li, who stood frozen in place, his eyes wide with disbelief. He tried to speak, but no words came out.
"You thought no one would find out," the third consort continued, her voice steady now, filled with bitter resolve. "But I knew. I've always known. You were responsible for the deaths of countless people during that invasion. You destroyed families. You betrayed the clan for your own ambition!
And now...now you have the gall to stand here and claim to seek justice for our son? You! The very man who caused this tragedy in the first place?"
Yan Li finally found his voice, but it wavered with desperation. "Stop this!" he commanded, but his voice held no power. The authority he once wielded so easily was slipping away. "This woman is delusional—grief has clouded her mind! She doesn't know what she's saying!"
But the crowd was no longer listening to him. All eyes were on the third consort as she pressed forward, determined to expose the truth.
"You're the one who's delusional, Yan Li!" she shouted. "All of this—every death, every loss that we've suffered—it's all because of you! And you know it. You can't hide it anymore. Your greed, your jealousy, your betrayal...it's led us to this."
She turned to the crowd, her voice softer now but still cutting. "He's done worse. He's committed atrocities, not just against our family but against the citizens of Pine City. He's the real danger. He's the one who should be locked away."
Yan Li's face contorted with fury and desperation. "Enough!" he bellowed.
As the tension in the hall reached its breaking point, the third consort stepped forward, her face twisted in a grotesque mix of grief and madness. Her eyes locked onto Yan Li with a chilling intensity, and without a word, she reached for her robe.