Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

the next day.

Tusol's main residence.

Austin didn't sleep a wink all night.

As soon as it was light, Lucas brought the latest news:

"The pharmacist said that Elder Campbell's condition was worse last night than the day before. The contamination has begun to erode his mental core... If this drags on, even if the contamination can be cleared later, he may suffer permanent mental damage."

"Go to church?"

"I asked," Lucas said in a low voice. "The conditions offered by the priests of the Church of the Bone..."

He handed over a note.

Austin glanced at it, his expression changing slightly.

That was a price that would cost the Tusol family dearly—not just money, but also the mining rights to a portion of the area.

The church never does anything that doesn't benefit them, and they have long coveted the Tusol family's wealth.

"Too expensive." Austin put the note down.

"That leaves only Xilun."

Austin leaned back in his chair, his fingers unconsciously tracing the wood grain on the armrest.

He recalled the scene in the council chamber last night: Campbell Hearst's bloodshot eyes, and Lott's almost manic rage.

And then there's Oin—that face that remained expressionless from beginning to end.

"Chieftain," Lucas said softly, "there's something I'm not sure if I should say."

"explain."

"Silun's demands... aren't actually that unreasonable."

Austin looked up at him.

Lucas bowed slightly and continued, "Three second-tier beings surrounded and killed him, and the mastermind behind it is still at large. Regardless of whether he is one of our people or not, this is unacceptable. Now he has something we desperately need, so it's only natural for him to make demands."

"I know," Austin said, sounding tired.

"Moreover," Lucas said, carefully choosing his words.

"If this is handled well, Xilun will not only come to rescue them, but will also feel grateful to the family. A young, powerful individual with life magic—worth winning over."

Austin remained silent for a long time.

He thought more deeply than Lucas.

Oin controls arms and mining channels, making him an indispensable part of the family during wartime.

However, the life techniques that Xilun possesses are also an irreplaceable resource in the face of rampant pollution.

We can't lose either side.

But at this moment... he has to make a choice.

It's not a permanent choice, but rather a matter of priority.

"Call Oin here," Austin finally spoke, his tone much harsher than before. "Tell him I have something to discuss."

Half an hour later, Oin arrived.

He was dressed in a well-fitting dark robe, his silver-gray hair was neatly combed, and he entered the study with a calm expression, as if he were just there for an ordinary afternoon tea.

"The clan chief is looking for me?"

Austin did not let him sit down.

This detail made Oin's eyelid twitch slightly.

"Oin." Austin looked directly at him. "I need a formal explanation from you regarding the Hawke family's attack on Siron."

A slight smile appeared on Oin's lips: "Chieftain, I have already said..."

"I don't want to hear what you've said," Austin said, his voice low but firm. "I need an explanation that will satisfy Celen."

Oin's smile froze.

"...What does the clan leader mean?"

"The meaning is clear." Austin picked up a document from the table. "Acknowledge the connection with the Hawke family, accept disciplinary action from the family's disciplinary committee, pay compensation, and..."

He paused for a moment.

"A written apology."

The air in the study seemed to freeze at that moment.

Oin's expression finally changed.

He stared at Austin, whose eyes, which usually held composure and arrogance, now resembled two black stones scorched by fire.

"Patriarch," his voice became very soft, almost inaudible, "you're having a third elder issue a written apology to a second-tier external member?"

"Yes."

"This is something that has never happened before in the history of our family."

"So you'd better cherish this 'never'." Austin's gaze was unwavering. "Oin, Campbell is dying. His life is more important than your pride."

Oin's fingers clenched tightly inside his sleeve.

He wanted to say, "Then let him die," but he couldn't.

The Campbell family's influence within the clan is deeply entrenched. If Campbell dies, the Second Elders, Hearst and Lott, will transfer their hatred to him—not because he killed someone, but because he obstructed the treatment.

At that time, he will be attacked from both sides.

But looking down...

As Oin thought of Xilun's young, calm face, a wave of almost uncontrollable nausea surged in his chest.

"Give me some time," he said, his voice forced out through clenched teeth.

"There's no time," Austin said, pointing to the documents on the table.

"Sign, stamp, and deliver the compensation plan to Xilun's residence today. Then I will send a car to pick him up."

Oin stood still, motionless.

"Oin".

Austin called his name one last time, his voice carrying a hint of weariness that he himself didn't realize.

"This is not a request."

That afternoon, a notice issued in the official name of the Tusol family was sent to the desks of various factions in the North District.

The announcement is concise and clear:

"The Tusol family disciplinary committee has confirmed that the previous attack on Mr. Siron Dag by the Hawk family was linked to the family's third elder, Oin."

Pursuant to Article 17 of the Family Law, the following disciplinary actions are imposed on Aoyin: 1. Internal demerit; 2. Reduction of this year's profit share by 30%; 3. Issuance of a written apology and compensation to the victim, Mr. Celen Dag.

The notice was stamped with the gold-embossed seal of the Tusol family and the signatures of the three members of the disciplinary committee.

Along with the notice, a thin letter was also sent to the Xilun residence.

The envelope was written in Oin's handwriting.

Xiren sat in his study and opened the envelope.

There was only one piece of paper inside, with just a few lines:

"I sincerely apologize for the unwarranted attack on Mr. Xilun due to my negligence. I hereby offer my compensation and hope for your understanding. — O'Ing."

The handwriting was neat and tidy, without a trace of superfluous emotion.

But Siren could imagine the expression on Oin's face as he wrote those words.

He folded the letter, put it back in the envelope, and casually placed it on the corner of the table.

"Master," Rod peeked in from outside the door, "the Tusol family's car is waiting downstairs, saying they're here to take you to the main house."

Xilun stood up, took the dark gray trench coat from the hanger, draped it over his shoulders, and buttoned it up.

He walked to the full-length mirror and straightened his collar.

The young man in the mirror had a handsome face and a calm expression. His eyes were as still as a stagnant pool—showing no pride, no tension, and not even any of the restlessness that comes with youth.

"Let's go."

When Xilun stepped out of the mansion gate, it was already dark.

The rain stopped sometime ago, but the air was still filled with a damp smell.

A black lacquered carriage belonging to the Tussol family was parked at the entrance, its body polished to a shine. The coachman, wearing a black top hat, respectfully opened the carriage door.

"Mr. Sir Len, please."

Xilun nodded slightly and calmly bent down to get into the carriage.

He didn't bring a gun, a musket, or even the box of Soul-Suppressing Nails.

Rhodes stood at the door, watching the carriage disappear into the night, his heart filled with a mixture of worry and admiration.

His young master entered Tusol's den with more ease than he would have gone to the tavern next door.

The carriage traveled westward along the stone-paved road in the northern district, its wheels making a soft splashing sound as they rolled over puddles.

Inside the carriage, Xilun leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes to rest.

He is waiting.

Once the Tusol family has processed the growing pains of this compromise, and once Oin has swallowed his anger.

Elder Campbell's illness firmly pinned everyone's attention to the word "live".

They discovered that he, Xiren, was not a dog to be ordered around at will, but a double-edged sword.

You can use it, but you'll have to pay a price.

The carriage traveled along Wellington Street and past the entrance to Crane Lane.

Xilen glanced out the car window at the narrow alleyway. Ten days ago, he had killed three people there. The knife marks on the alley walls hadn't been completely washed away yet.

The carriage then continued on its way, heading towards the main residence of Tusol.

And at this very moment, in every corner of the North District—

In taverns, on the docks, in teahouses—people are talking about the same thing.

"Have you heard? The Tusol family has punished the Third Elder, Oin."

Why?

"For that Golden Knight, Siren Dag."

"Is it the one that runs through three lanes of Klein Alley?"

"Yes. It's said that Oin sent someone to assassinate him before, but failed. Now the Tusol family has actually publicly punished Oin and even apologized to him and paid him compensation."

"...My God. When did Tusol become so polite to outsiders?"

"I don't know. But this Xilun is probably quite capable."

"Nonsense, how many people in the entire Northern District can make Tusol bow down?"

Similar conversations are happening simultaneously in countless corners of the world.

North District Brotherhood Headquarters.

Reiner sat on the old leather sofa, flipping through a copy of the Tusol family's announcement, the corners of his mouth curving into a deeper smile.

"Tusol punished his own Third Elder for an outside collaborator..." He shook his head and placed the copy on the coffee table.

"This isn't like Austin. What is it about this Siren Dag that makes Tusol so willing to sacrifice his dignity to protect him?"

The assistant standing behind him didn't speak, but his eyes also flashed with curiosity and vigilance.

Reiner lit another cigar and murmured amidst the swirling smoke, "The Golden Knight... I'll have to keep a closer eye on him from now on."

Somewhere in the southern district.

In an unassuming room, several people sat around a table covered with a map.

"You've all seen Tusol's announcement?" The leader tossed a document onto the table, his tone tinged with surprise.

"I've seen it."

"What are your thoughts?"

"Are you crazy? Oin is the Third Elder, he's been in the family for twenty years. Bowing down for a young man?"

"It's not about bowing down to young people," another voice rang out, calm and rational.

"It's for Elder Campbell's life. Xilun has a life-purifying technique that can cleanse corruption; Campbell is going to die. Tusor has no other choice."

"So that means... this Xilun now holds Tusol's lifeline in his hands?"

silence.

"Not to the point." The leader shook his head. "But it at least shows one thing: his influence in the Tusol family is no longer that of an ordinary outsider."

"And what about us?"

"Continue to observe, but upgrade his intelligence to Level A."

The carriage stopped in front of the main gate of Tusol's house.

The coachman opened the door, and Xilun stepped out calmly.

Black Star was already waiting under the brightly lit porch.

His complexion was better than in the afternoon, and when he saw Xilun, he managed a somewhat complicated smile.

"They're here."

"They're here." Xiren glanced at him. "Let's go."

The two walked side by side into the main house, passing through the long corridor.

Xilun walked with steady and unhurried steps, his leather shoes making a crisp sound on the marble floor.

The servants and stewards passing by all stepped aside to make way, their eyes filled with barely concealed curiosity and awe.

They all knew who this young man was.

Golden Knight!

The man who made the third elder of the Tussor family bow his head.

With a calm expression and unwavering gaze, Xilun walked step by step toward the study he had visited many times.

When the door opened, Austin was already sitting inside.

The old man's gaze fell on Xilun through the dim light, deep and complex.

"sit."

Without any hesitation, Xilun walked straight to the chair opposite him and sat down.

The two looked at each other across the table.

"Did you receive the letter?"

"received."

Are you satisfied?

Xilun paused for a moment, then nodded slightly: "That's enough."

Austin's shoulders seemed to relax a bit.

"Camber's condition is very bad." He didn't beat around the bush and said directly, "I need you to go see him tonight."

"Um."

Xilun stood up.

"Lead the way."

Black Star walked ahead, his pace neither fast nor slow.

The main house has a long corridor, and the candlelight casts a dim yellow glow on the walls on both sides, casting the shadows of the two people behind them.

"Elder Kamber lives in the quiet room in the east wing," Black Star said without turning his head. "We've used every medicine the tribe can, and the incense burns from morning till night, but at most it can only make him ramble a little less."

"How long has it been since you were fully conscious?"

"Three days." Black Star tilted his head slightly. "The last time I was awake was the evening before yesterday. I was awake for less than fifteen minutes, said some things that no one could understand, and then passed out again."

Xilun did not ask any further questions.

He quickly calculated the upper limit of the Prayer Sprout's capacity in his mind. The last time he cleansed Edwin of the contamination, it was only a remnant of the second tier, yet it still consumed most of his mental energy.

Campbell is a third-order coin.

The third-tier being struck by a trap set by the Scarlet Retreat and the choir.

"Black Star," Xilun said.

"Um?"

"Has the source of the contamination been isolated? Or is it that the contents of his body are still connected to the outside world?"

Black Star paused for a moment, then resumed his normal pace.

"I'm not sure. The pharmacist said he didn't have any stitches, unlike the other patients you treated before. But..."

He was silent for two seconds.

"He can sing."

Xilun frowned slightly.

"What song?"

"The words were indistinct, like some kind of prayer, or a child's lullaby. The sound was very soft, but it gave everyone in the room a headache."

Pollution has seeped into the core of our spirit and is beginning to spill over.

This is more serious than Xilun estimated.

He clenched his right hand fingers, feeling the faint warmth at his fingertips.

The white bud of prayer still lingers between the eyebrows, but after days of rest, it is full of energy.

"When we arrive, don't speak yet," Xilun instructed. "Let me hear what you have to say."

Black Star nodded.

The two passed through an archway at the end of the corridor, and suddenly a sweet, cloying fragrance filled the air, so strong it was almost bitter.

The corridor in the east wing was much narrower than the main hall. There was a wall lamp every three steps, but the flame was turned to the minimum, making the light dim and oppressive.

Four guards stood on either side of the corridor, each with a cup of tranquility potion on a small table in front of them, the rim of the cup already dried and covered with white crystals.

They stood guard here, drinking a sip of medicine every half hour to suppress the noise in their ears.

The guards saw Black Star and Siron and bowed to him in unison.

Their gaze lingered on Xilun for a moment longer—a mixture of curiosity, awe, and an undisguised anticipation.

Turn the last corner.

A heavy oak door appeared at the end of the corridor, and two people stood in front of it.

Xiren's steps remained unchanged, but his gaze had already locked onto one of them.

He had silver-gray hair, wore a dark robe, and had an upright posture.

Oin!