Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

"The clan leader's sincerity is very evident."

West End Road.

Austin's smile deepened.

"And what's your answer?"

"I will seriously consider it."

"Seriously considering it?"

Austin raised his eyebrows.

He didn't seem very satisfied with the answer.

A young officer behind him couldn't help but frown. Just as he was about to speak, Austin raised his hand to stop him.

"Can."

Austin said, "A smart man doesn't sell himself before he's even finished his first drink."

Xiren continued to smile.

Austin patted the black horse on the side of its neck.

"Let's not talk about that today. Autumn hunting is a tradition of the Tusol family. Since Mr. Siren is here, come with me and see how true nobles hunt."

The sound of bugles echoed through the foothills.

Deep and lingering.

The hounds were untied and surged into the forest like a dark brown tide.

The horse's hooves then trampled the grass.

The nobles followed with laughter, the gunmen and servants dispersed, and several elders' representatives slowly entered in carriages.

Since Siron's riding skills were mediocre, Austin specially arranged a docile gray horse for him and had two knights guard his side and rear.

This care seems thoughtful.

It is actually a kind of mark.

From this moment on, everyone in the hunting grounds will know that Xiren is with Austin.

"You seem very confident."

Siren rode alongside Austin on horseback.

Austin pulled on the reins, navigating around a damp hollow.

"Those who lack confidence on the battlefield will not live long."

"Is it the same within the family?"

Austin turned his head to look at him.

The dappled sunlight in the woods fell on his deep red hunting suit, like dried blood clots.

"What are you trying to say?"

Xilun spoke calmly.

"The clan chief should have already seen that letter."

Austin's smile faded slightly.

Suddenly, the hunting dogs ahead barked wildly, and a wild deer leaped out from behind the bushes. Several knights raised their lances and fired, and several shots startled a large flock of birds.

Austin did not rush to fire.

He waited until the deer had crossed a fallen tree before raising his hand, aiming, and pulling the trigger.

The gunshot was crisp and clear.

The wild deer's forelegs buckled, and it tumbled onto the grassy slope.

Exclamations of admiration immediately arose from the surroundings.

Austin put down his shotgun.

"Trust me, I've seen it."

He said calmly, "It's very cleverly written. It includes details about the transfer of guards, the replacement of servants, communication nodes, the Black Death Cult's ledgers, and even several lines of communication between Oin and the side branches."

Xilun looked at the wild deer that had collapsed and was convulsing in the distance.

"so?"

"So the person who wrote the letter must know the North District very well, and also know about Tusol's recent movements."

Austin looked at him.

"I even doubted you."

Xiren smiled.

"pleasure."

Austin chuckled softly.

"But I still came."

"I saw it."

"Because if I don't come, it would be tantamount to admitting that the head of the Tusol family has been frightened by an anonymous letter. Mr. Siren, you've never been in this position, so perhaps you don't understand. Sometimes, doubt can't make you back down; it can only make you move forward."

Xilun did not refute.

Because the statement itself is not wrong.

Austin's mistake was that he overestimated the cost he could bear.

Another bugle call sounded.

A voice in the distance reported that an old wild boar with extremely long tusks had been found deep in the woods and had already injured two hunting dogs.

Austin's eyes lit up.

"Walk."

The team advanced into the deep forest once more.

Xilun followed him, a perfectly timed smile always on his face.

He could feel many eyes on him.

There were Austin's confidants, collateral nobles, representatives of the Presbyterian Church, and unfamiliar servants hidden among the crowd.

These perspectives differ.

Some were wary, some were gloating, and some seemed to be waiting for some pre-arranged signal.

The hunting grounds were bustling with activity.

It was as lively as a pot of water that was about to boil.

Many people noticed Oin's actions.

At least they noticed something was wrong.

For example, the white-browed old man from the elders' council hadn't touched a drop of alcohol since he entered, and his fingertips were constantly resting on the silver head of his cane.

For example, Austin's adjutant had already sent messengers for the third time to try and send a message out of the hunting grounds.

For example, two collateral nobles spoke in low voices, but their eyes kept glancing southeast, where the road back to the manor led.

Only Austin.

He saw it, but refused to admit it was a knife.

He was like someone standing at the top of the steps, hearing the sound of stones breaking below, yet still believing it was just the wind blowing through the courtyard.

Xilun suddenly felt a little tired.

The reminder has been sent.

The choice was not his.

He cannot believe in danger on behalf of others.

Nor can one bear the consequences for others.

In the afternoon, a deep roar echoed from the depths of the hunting grounds.

The old wild boar burst out of the bushes, covered in mud, its mane bristling, and a broken leash still hanging from its tusks.

A young nobleman screamed and fell off his horse.

The old wild boar charged straight at them.

Austin spurred his horse forward, and before he could even reload his shotgun, he drew his hunting knife from his waist.

A flash of light.

He darted past the wild boar almost touching its tusks, his hunting knife plunging deep into the boar's neck.

Fresh blood splattered out.

The wild boar went berserk, smashing a small tree trunk and finally collapsing to its knees in the wet mud.

A thunderous roar of applause erupted.

Austin stood beside the pool of blood, his crimson cloak billowing in the wind, a victor's habitual smile on his face.

He turned to look at Xilun.

"how?"

Xilun smiled and clapped.

"Wonderful."

Austin laughed.

Amidst the laughter, a black raven swooped low over the hunting grounds and landed on a withered branch in the distance.

Xilun looked up.

A very thin red thread was tied to the raven's leg.

The smile on his face remained unchanged.

But the fingers hidden in the sleeve had already gently pressed down on the Soul-Suppressing Nail.

At the same time, dozens of miles away at Tusol Manor, the first door was closed.

The heavy iron bolt fell into the lock groove.

The voice was muffled.

Like a coffin lid closing.

O'In stood in the center of the main hall and slowly took off his gloves.

On both sides of the hall, the servants who originally belonged to the clan chief had been disarmed, and a dozen guard knights stood with their guns lowered, but ready to be raised at any time.

Elder Holman, with his white hair, glared at him.

"Oin, do you know what you're doing?"

Oin looked at the old man.

"I know."

His voice was very soft.

"So I waited twenty years."

Holman wanted to say something more.

The old knight behind Oin had already drawn his sword.

The sword flashed through the candlelight of the hall.

Holman's voice stopped abruptly.

Blood splattered below the portrait of the Tusol family's ancestors.

Everyone in the hall fell silent.

Oin looked down at the fallen old man, his eyes showing no pleasure, only a cold indifference as if he had finally gotten rid of the old dust.

"From now on."

He slowly put his gloves back on.

"The Tusol family will no longer be dictated by dullness, greed, weakness, and luck."

The guards stepped forward in unison.

The sounds of guns being cocked filled the air.

Oin looked up at the tall, tribal bench at the far end of the hall.

"Let's begin."

The stench of blood quickly spread from deep within the main house.

The first day of the autumn hunt was not yet over.

The clock at Tusol Manor rang three times before dusk.

At first, the servants thought it was because the blessing ceremony had been brought forward.

The second time, the branch tribesmen living in the west wing noticed something was wrong and sent someone to inquire, only to find that the end of the corridor was full of guards.

The third time, all the doors and windows of the main house were closed, and a new standard-bearer was put in charge of the outer gate of the manor.

The flag remained red with black animal patterns.

But the person guarding the flag has changed.

That's how many things are.

The signboard hasn't been changed, the surname hasn't been changed, the badge hasn't been changed, and even the fireplace burning in the hall is the same one from last night.

But when the person holding the key changes, the world is no longer the same.

Oin walked through the corridor.

His boots made little noise as they trod across the soft, thick blanket.

The doors on both sides opened and closed one after another. Cries, curses, pleas for mercy, and gunshots were cut into short, fragmented sounds by the thick walls, like intermittent rain in the distance.

Oro followed behind him, his face pale.

He wasn't unfamiliar with dead people.

But today, it is not cultists or enemy soldiers who die, but those who raised their glasses, smiled, and addressed each other as relatives at the family banquet.

A young woman was dragged out of the room by two guards.

She had disheveled hair, was holding a child in her arms, and her voice was shrill and distorted.

"Uncle Oin! My father has never opposed you! He was just following the chief's orders; he knew nothing!"

Oin stopped in his tracks.

The child cried until his face turned purple in the woman's arms.

Oro couldn't help but look at his father.

Oin's gaze fell on the woman's face.

Where is your father?

The woman, as if grasping at a lifeline, hurriedly said, "He's in the study in the west wing. He wants to see you, he wants to support you, as long as you give him a chance..."

Oin nodded.

"Take her and the child to the inner courtyard."

The woman froze.

She thought she had misheard.

The two guards released her, and she staggered to her knees, her lips trembling as she tried to thank them.

Oin has continued moving forward.

After turning the corner of the long corridor, Oro finally whispered, "Father, didn't you say we shouldn't leave any future troubles?"

"She is not a future problem."

O'Indone said, "Her father is."

"That child..."

"Children will grow up."

"Isn't that even more dangerous?"

Oin stopped in his tracks.

Outside the corridor window, the setting sun was sinking, and the light shining through the stained glass tinted half of his face a dark red.

"Auro, eliminating the root of the problem doesn't mean killing everyone who cries."

His voice was flat.

"That's a butcher, not a ruler."

Oro pursed his lips.

Oin continued walking forward.

"Her father was killed because he controlled three private army communication lines. If he didn't die tonight, someone would start an uprising in Austin's name tomorrow. She was spared because she will remember who spared her child."

"But she will hate you too."

"Hate and fear are not contradictory."

O'Indone said, "Many times, fear is more reliable than gratitude."

They walked to the door of the study in the west wing.

The sound of hurriedly rummaging through drawers and cabinets came from inside the door.

The old knight kicked the door open.

Inside, a middle-aged nobleman was trying to burn a bundle of letters when the door opened, and he dropped the tinderbox he was holding.

"Oin! You can't do this! I am a relative by marriage from the main branch of the Tusor family, and I have managed the northwest grain route for the family for seventeen years!"

Oin went in and bent down to pick up the unburnt letter from the ground.

I glanced at it.

It bears the personal seal of Austin's adjutant.

"Therefore you should understand even more that the supply lines cannot be in the hands of someone who hesitates."

The middle-aged nobleman took two steps back, his obese face twitching violently.

"I pledge my allegiance to you! I can sign the declaration right now!"

Oin looked at him.

"It's too late."

"Why?!"

"Because your first action wasn't to open the door to greet me, but to burn the letter."

Oin raised his hand.

Gunshots rang out.

The middle-aged nobleman fell backward, his head hitting the bookshelf, causing books to scatter all over the floor.

Auro stared at the rapidly expanding pool of blood, his Adam's apple bobbing.

Oin did not reprimand him further.

Some things are useless no matter how much you listen to them.

You have to see it with your own eyes, do it with your own hands, and personally endure the nausea churning in your stomach before it becomes part of your bones.

As night fell, Tusol Manor had fallen silent.

It's not peaceful quiet.

It was a silence suppressed by the muzzle of a gun.

Of the seven members of the Elders' Council, two died, three were placed under house arrest, and two knelt down.

The captain of the main house guard was executed in public, and the deputy captain took over the defense.

The communications room staff has been replaced.

The vault door key was retrieved.

The family seal was placed before Oin.

Oin sat in his study, looking at the heavy seal, without reaching out for a long time.

Oro stood to the side, still carrying a faint smell of blood.

"Father, the second communication line has been cut off at the hunting grounds. Austin's adjutant sent three groups of men back, but they were all stopped."

"reason?"

"The mountain road has collapsed, and remnants of the Black Death Cult have been spotted. An investigation is needed."

Oin nodded.

"What are the developments from all sides?"

"The armed insurgents have appeared on the outskirts of the North District. The Link family has issued a warning to their own caravan. The Whisper Choir hasn't moved, but they've tightened their two hideouts. The old Viscount Brandon's family has sent people to the city hall to gather information. And..."

Auro paused.

"The Brotherhood members are active near the old water tower."

Oin finally looked up.

"Where is Xilun?"

"He's at the hunting grounds."

When Oro said this, his tone was somewhat strange.

Oin smiled.

"Was Austin able to get him there?"

"Yes."

Oro frowned. "Auston might suspect he's connected to you."

"Of course he'd have doubts."

Ao Yin gently stroked the edge of the seal with his fingertips.

Despite his doubts, he still refused to believe he would lose.

Oro whispered, "What about Xilun?"

"Take him with you."

"Oin said calmly."

Oro was taken aback.

"Take it with you?"

"Since he's at the hunting grounds, let everyone see that he's there."

Oin finally picked up the seal.

The heavy bronze seal gleamed dimly in the candlelight.

"A wise person always wants to stand by the water without getting their shoes wet."

His smile was gentle.

"But the water level has risen today."

The nighttime feast at the hunting grounds was not yet over.

A huge bonfire was lit in the center of the open space, and the grease from the roasted meat dripped into the fire, splattering into tiny sparks.

Hounds lay on the edge of the fire, gnawing on bones, while nobles, cloaked and drinking, discussed whose gun was more accurate, whose horse was faster, and who had lost face when a wild boar charged.

Austin sat in the main seat, his expression still composed.

But his adjutant had returned four times, and each time his expression was more unpleasant than the last.

"Still can't get it sent out?"

Austin put down his glass.

The adjutant lowered his voice.

"The southeast mountain road is blocked; the guards say there are signs of a cult. The western communications tower is not responding. None of the people sent to the manor have returned."

The laughter continued.

The firelight cast shadows on everyone's faces.

Austin paused for a moment, then suddenly looked at Xilun.

Xilun was holding a glass of wine, a smile still on his lips.

"You knew all along?"

Austin asked.

This statement is not serious.

But the nearby nobles immediately fell silent.

Xilun put the wine glass back on the table.

"I reminded you."

Austin stared at him.

"Reminding and knowing are two different things."

"It's pointless for the clan leader to pursue this matter now."

The young officer beside him angrily shouted, "Insolence!"