Chapter 18: Heaven Overturns the Earth, The Hostage's Choice

“Capital offense?” Lu Wu’s smile was ambiguous.

He said no more, simply lifting the long halberd in his palm with an unhurried motion before steadily pressing it down on the shoulder of the sword-bearing guard.

Crack—several fissures split the bluestone beneath the guard’s feet.

Gritting his teeth with a grimace, the guard endured for a moment longer but could not withstand the tremendous weight bearing down on his shoulder. He was forced to kneel before Lu Wu’s black horse.

His knee struck the stone, which shattered completely.

From the leisurely lift to the deliberate fall, that single halberd stroke seemed to freeze the entire world. The swordsman’s every skill was rendered useless; all he could do was watch helplessly as the halberd pressed him down, forcing him to his knees before Lu Wu’s steed.

“The Eighteen Cuts of Overlapping Peaks—Heaven Falls, Earth Weighs!”

The surrounding armored soldiers, swordsmen, and crossbowmen bristled with fury, eager to act.

“Slow—these are our own people!” A rider galloped up from afar, shouting loudly even before arriving.

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General Luo Gan led his personal guards in formation, flinging open the gates of the grand military headquarters. He intended to use the Golden Crown Cavalry’s charge to break the northern city commandant’s lines and engage in a decisive battle—otherwise, with strong bows and crossbows blocking the gates, even a seven- or eightfold force could not break out.

But when the gates swung open, everyone was stunned.

The long street before them was strewn with scattered, broken remnants of soldiers—souls shattered—and a bloodied path stretched from the gates into the distance.

This was no mere disruption of the formation—it was a complete trampling of the army.

Though older, Luo Gan’s mind was sharp. He quickly ordered several trusted commanders to spur their horses along the path the Golden Crown Cavalry had carved, rushing toward the Yuan residence.

Since they were not coming to support his forces, they must be heading to the Yuan household. Within Chengde District, the only significant players were his own side and the Yuan family’s remnants.

He sent men to pursue the Golden Crown Cavalry, caring little whether they intercepted them or not; what mattered was preventing a fight among their own ranks.

In mere moments, the Golden Crown Cavalry had shattered the elite formation and slain the northern city commandant, Zou Mi—a feat of terrifying strength.

The Wu Kingdom’s royal city lay just north of Songjing. The northern city commandant was the city’s first line of defense, traditionally held by veteran generals, quite unlike the southern city commandant or commanders at the four gates.

Zou Mi’s troops guarding the general’s mansion were the cream of the crop—armored soldiers all ranked above the ninth grade of strength—otherwise, they would not have been able to block the general’s gates.

For a single rider to overturn such a refined formation in moments, and to slay a seasoned commander like Zou Mi—who was flung from the fray and lodged in a tree—was staggering beyond measure.

Setting aside Zou Mi’s formation, the man himself was a top martial force in the kingdom, renowned for his overwhelming might.

(Military drills were usually a stage for young warriors to prove themselves; veteran generals seldom engaged in contests with youth—there was little glory in winning, but much shame in losing.)

Even General Luo Gan was left speechless upon witnessing Zou Mi’s fate.

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Teng Liang and several men rode up, grateful.

Had they arrived even a moment later, once the battle began, few of Yuan Residence’s armored guards would have survived against the Golden Crown Cavalry’s fearsome strength and ruthlessness.

“Who are you?” Lu Wu glanced at him sideways, the halberd still pinning the sword-wielding guard.

“I am Teng Liang, commander of General Luo Gan’s personal guards. I beg this young general’s mercy—release the guard Liu De.” Teng Liang bowed respectfully, clasping his fists and even bending slightly on horseback.

General Luo Gan’s daughter was the official wife of Lord Yuan; these personal guards and the main protectors of the Yuan household were all familiar with each other—at least by sight.

Liu De, the swordsman, was a rare fourth-grade martial artist. His Water-Cleaving Sword was famous in Songjing, reputed to cleave a bronze cauldron with a single stroke. Yet now, he was being forced to kneel beneath a man’s halberd.

“I don’t care who General Luo Gan is. Bring Lin Zhong here, and I will release him,” Lu Wu said bluntly.

For years, he had played the role of a spoiled heir, never once caring who the Wu Kingdom’s general was.

In truth, if asked who the Wu King was, Lu Wu would be just as clueless.

Calling him a spoiled heir was not entirely accurate; Lu Wu’s daily life was far lazier than most idle sons of noble families.

He simply did not cause trouble, so his reputation as a rake remained confined to a small circle, sparing the Lu family public shame.

“—” Teng Liang was speechless.

Hearing Lu Wu’s words, the armored soldiers, swordsmen, crossbowmen, and several of Luo Gan’s guards were all stunned.

Was there really a martial expert in Wu who did not know who General Luo Gan was?

They were close enough to see clearly—torchlight lined the Chengde District streets, illuminating Lu Wu’s features: tall, yet with a youthful face, not a single whisker on his chin.

What reckless young scion had suddenly appeared?

“May I ask, what is your relationship with Lin Zhong?” Teng Liang asked cautiously.

Had this been anyone else, Teng Liang would have drawn his blade without hesitation, furious at the disrespect toward General Luo Gan.

But this Golden Crown Cavalryman was far too young. Teng Liang felt it was not worth matching wits with such a greenhorn—and more importantly, if a fight broke out, he doubted any of them would survive.

“Lin Zhong is my brother-in-law. I’m here to bring him back,” Lu Wu revealed without pretense.

Lin Zhong was important to him.

To others, Lin Zhong was merely a heavily armored guard for Lord Yuan, at best the son of the Captain of the Longshui Regiment.

Such a rank meant little in the crucial changeover of the Wu throne—too insignificant to threaten anyone.

And Lu Wu was no one to be threatened.

At worst, they would part ways; if need be, he would kill them all.

More hoofbeats sounded behind.

A squadron of cavalry hurried forward, escorting an old general clad in golden helmet and armor—General Luo Gan himself.

“Bring Lin Zhong to me—this is General Luo Gan. I thank this young general for breaking the siege on my mansion,” Luo Gan ordered.

He brushed aside his guards and approached Lu Wu with a grandfatherly smile, speaking gently.

The guards of the Yuan household obeyed without hesitation.

With Lord Yuan dead, the house had no leader.

All could do was tighten their vigilance, guarding the matron and two young lords, ever fearful of further calamity.

General Luo Gan’s arrival gave them a rallying point.

“You are the Wu Kingdom’s general?” Lu Wu asked, his tone lacking in courtesy.

Luo Gan paid no mind to the young man’s rudeness; his aged face beamed with even greater warmth.

Though the situation had collapsed and his son-in-law was assassinated, sorrow would change nothing.

If he could recruit this invincible warrior, perhaps some ground could be regained.

At his rank, victory or defeat was no longer his alone to bear—it involved the futures, livelihoods, and lives of countless others.

So Lu Wu’s brusque address mattered little. As long as Lu Wu would join his banner, even a spit in his old face would not offend him.

A ruler disposing of a subject must weigh the odds—if a subject must die, it is because he lacks the power to rebel.

Lu Wu lifted the halberd and released the hostage.

Though this hostage was but a guard of the Yuan household, this old man before him was the Wu Kingdom’s general.

If anyone threatened him with his brother-in-law, holding this old man as a hostage was far more effective than any mere guard.