Clearheaded

He Chunhua looked down and discovered that beneath the Heavenly Thunder Formation, another cluster of runes had lit up. Unlike the Heavenly Thunder Formation, every single line of this one was a vivid blood red. Most crucially, while this formation was not overly profound, it was ancient and archaic. Many of the characters were ancient symbols long abandoned by later generations. Situ Han noticed that Commandery Governor He was staring at the newly revealed runic formation with wide, rounded eyes and pupils shrunk to pinpricks, clearly stricken with sheer shock. Tension seized Situ Han as well. "What—what happened?" "This is a Blood Sacrifice Formation. Sun Fuping intends to use us as sacrifices!" He Chunhua squeezed the words out through clenched teeth. No one had noticed that right after Sun Fuping brought out the ivory carving, a monstrous bird plunged from the sky and landed before He Lingchuan, kicking up a plume of dust that gave them a start. Maotao reached for his blade once more, and Zeng Feixiong immediately stepped in front of He Lingchuan. Fortunately, the black flood dragon's voice rang out right after: "They are preparing a ritual of divine descent. Your companions outside are about to be slaughtered as sacrifices. Are you still not going to help stop them?" He Lingchuan and Zeng Feixiong were utterly appalled. "What did you say?" Maotao was also alarmed. "You—you're talking nonsense!" "Beneath that Thunder-Calling Formation outside lies a nested sacrificial formation! Once those two succeed in their prayer, the formation will drain the lives and essence-blood of your companions to pay the price for divine descent! That agony is something no human could ever endure." "Nonsense!" Sun Fuping's voice suddenly rang in He Lingchuan's ears. The two turned to look, only to see that the National Preceptor's eyes remained tightly shut and his lips were still chanting incantations. He had used some unknown method to transmit his voice to them separately—his tricks were truly endless. "The Thunder-Calling Formation serves only to summon heavenly thunder and protect the Blackwater City army! Without it, your father would have been swallowed by resentful souls long ago! This artifact spirit seeks to confound your resolve—on no account must you fall for its deceit!" Yet the black flood dragon countered, "You are hiding here because you are not on the same side as them. They would not hesitate for an instant to sacrifice someone else's life! Think carefully—why are the others outside holding off the heroic spirits while only you were able to enter?" It continued in an eerie tone, "If I am not mistaken, the two originally intended to sacrifice you. That would have saved the most effort." He Lingchuan felt a chill run through him. He had known all along that those two were scheming against him, his father, and the Blackwater City army, though he hadn't known what methods they would employ. If what the black flood dragon said was true, by not heading to the southern wall earlier, he had truly dodged a catastrophe. Yet even if he had escaped this disaster, Sun Fuping, having plotted for so long, would not let the matter rest. It was entirely possible he would use He Chunhua and the Blackwater City troops to make up the numbers instead. Weighing one against the other, the black flood dragon's words indeed carried considerable truth. Maotao was completely bewildered. "Eldest Young Master, th-this..." Which side was telling the truth? Whom should they believe? Perhaps sensing his hesitation, Sun Fuping barked urgently, "He Lingchuan, do not fall for its tricks! If we cannot subjugate this black flood dragon, all of us will die here, and He Chunhua and the Blackwater City army will be buried alongside you!" Immediately following that, he added, "Zeng Feixiong, stop him at once! If the He family commits treason, you will be executed by association as well!" Great Yuan's laws dictated the extermination of nine familial branches for treason, and one of those branches included retainers and troops. If the He family rebelled, Zeng Feixiong would indeed face nothing but death. Such intimidation would work on almost anyone. Zeng Feixiong had already been wavering, wanting to urge the eldest young master to choose calmly—after all, He Lingchuan's reputation for being rash and impulsive was deeply ingrained. Yet upon hearing Sun Fuping's words, the hand Zeng Feixiong had reached out to stop him pulled right back: "Eldest Young Master, I'll follow your lead!" Even Sun Fuping, wise as he was to the ways of the world, was taken aback, unable to comprehend how his threat had produced the exact opposite effect. In truth, that word "death" had served as a reminder to Zeng Feixiong. He had led troops into the Panlong Desert with the conviction that he was going to die anyway, so long as the He family treated his elderly father well and saw him through to his final resting place. What did it matter if those two were a National Preceptor and a Commandant? Above all else, fulfilling Commandery Governor He's mission came first. He Lingchuan had no time to ponder Zeng Feixiong's thoughts; he had to make a decision right now, right this very second. In a single fleeting moment, countless thoughts raced through He Lingchuan's mind. Then he abruptly looked up at the monstrous bird hovering beside them and asked, "If I help, can you get us safely out of the Panlong Desert?" The monstrous bird nodded instantly without the slightest hesitation. The men were overjoyed. This was truly what everyone longed for! The Eldest Young Master was clearheaded about what really mattered. All the bizarre occurrences in the Panlong Desert were the doing of the Dafang Pot. If it wished to spare them, nothing could be easier. They could only put their faith in it now. He Lingchuan hesitated no longer: "Take us up to the wall!" Several more monstrous birds descended at once, clutched the men by their shoulders, and flapped their wings to take flight. They had barely risen a hundred feet when a flash of cold light erupted from behind. The monstrous bird carrying Maotao had the right half of its body sheared away; screeching with a loud squawk, it plunged downward. It was Nian Songyu, who had hurled his long saber in the midst of his desperate struggle to stop them from ascending the wall. He had originally aimed for He Lingchuan, never expecting the bird holding Maotao to lurch into the blade's path. Fortunately, another monstrous bird swooped in just in time, catching Maotao in midair. The men leaped onto the wall. He Lingchuan pointed at the siege artillery: "Load the bolts! Load the shells!" Zeng Feixiong led his men in carrying out the orders without a word, but Maotao looked slightly hesitant: "Are you really going to help the black flood dragon?" He Lingchuan swiftly shoved two nail bombs into a cannon barrel and shot him a sideways glance. "What? Did Nian Songyu's flying saber not treat you well enough?" Nian Songyu's blade had cleaved the monstrous bird in two, and Maotao had nearly perished on the spot. Hearing He Lingchuan's retort, Maotao put all doubts aside and briskly fitted a refined iron bolt over four feet long onto a heavy ballista. Earlier, the siege engines along the wall had already fired a round automatically, controlled by the black flood dragon, of course. But its mastery over this domain was clearly not flawless; at the very least, it could not manage finer, more delicate tasks, such as automatically reloading bolts and shells. It still required human hands. Worse yet, the demonic apes had all been slaughtered, and resurrecting them would take some time. Had it not been entirely out of options, why would it ever have approached these little fleas who were also uninvited guests? He Lingchuan had initially considered drawing his bow and shooting a few arrows at Sun Fuping. But he held neither rank nor official post, and thus lacked dynastic fortune to shield and empower him. How could arrows fired like that ever compare to the devastating might of specialized military artillery? Now that he had made up his mind, he had to see this through to the very end—and do it brilliantly. Nian Songyu was furious, his face flushing as red as the berserk giant behind him. "He Lingchuan! If you dare turn traitor on the battlefield, I will chop you into eight pieces, grind your bones to dust, and scatter your ashes!" "When begging someone for help, you should watch your attitude. Someone like you? Tsk!" He Lingchuan hoisted the final rolling stone into the launch trough, turned to the monstrous bird, and snapped, "Fire!" Flames suddenly erupted across the rolling stones and arrowheads. With deafening booms echoing in rapid succession, more than ten pieces of siege weaponry fired in unison. The loudest of all were naturally the nail bombs, rattling their ears until they went numb. To tell the truth, launching artillery shells was by no means so simple; even now, He Lingchuan had no idea how Panlong City's siege weapons operated—whether by fuse or flint ignition. But none of that mattered. Panlong City, guided by the black flood dragon, took care of everything else.