Chapter 22: Slaughter Beneath the Night Sky

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As the evening sun set behind the horizon, drawing the final curtain of dusk and extinguishing the last glimmer of light, shadowy figures quietly appeared in some of Wanqu Hill City's alleys.

"Remember, soon—kill all the guards at the city gate, open it, and let our men outside enter the city. The rest of you, head to the Xie household. If you spot the Prefect of Huaiyang's carriage, act as the situation demands!"

A man in simple clothes surveyed those around him, all now armed with swords and blades, before giving his final instructions.

Upon hearing his words, the others nodded. At his gesture, they moved swiftly toward the city gate.

Night had returned quiet to Wanqu Hill, and because of the Xie clan's banquet, the once raucous taverns had lost their usual boisterousness. Shops on both sides of the street, save for a few flickering with candlelight, were mostly closed.

"Hurry!"

"Quickly!"

Urgent voices echoed as the heavy, clustered footsteps of over a hundred men sounded through the streets.

A shopkeeper, closing up for the night, heard the commotion and stepped out curiously. Upon seeing a group of armed men pass by, he recoiled in terror, stumbling backward and landing heavily on the ground.

Only after some time, realizing he was not harmed, did he breathe a shaky sigh of relief, sitting pale and gasping on the ground. Glancing up and watching the men head toward the city gate, he seemed to grasp the situation, horror dawning on his face as he scrambled to bolt his doors.

"The air is dry; beware of fire! First Watch of the Night..."

Two night watchmen walked the street, one beating a brass gong, the other carrying a lantern.

As the seat of Huaiyang Commandery, Wanqu Hill naturally employed night watchmen, who began their rounds and struck the gong at the first watch after dusk. During curfews, they reminded the townsfolk not to wander at night.

"The air is dry..."

But as they walked, the two watchmen sensed something amiss. Ahead, shadows flickered, and the sound of many hurried footsteps rose.

Realizing something was wrong, the watchmen dropped gong and lantern in terror, fleeing headlong into the darkness.

At the western gate of Wanqu Hill—

Clusters of braziers bathed the gate in bright light. Over a dozen soldiers, armed with long spears, guarded the entrance. Torches lined the walkway atop the wall, where soldiers patrolled now and then.

But tonight, men in plain clothes leaned against the wall in the walkway, swords and blades set beside them as they rubbed their hands against the cold wind, wishing they could snatch a torch for warmth.

Though chilled, none complained—after all, if luck had favored them earlier, they might have drawn the long stick and been waiting in a shop instead.

"Will anyone really come?" a burly man muttered in doubt. But before he finished, the city guards who had just passed them on patrol suddenly halted and stared toward the city outskirts.

"Trouble! The enemy is outside the city. Quickly, report to the Prefect!" a soldier cried out.

Hearing this, the Zhao family's deathsworn, who had been sitting on the ground, exchanged glances and curiously picked up their weapons.

Moments later, they saw countless pinpricks of firelight appear out of the darkness on the plains beyond the wall.

At that sight, everyone realized—the city was truly about to be attacked.

"Kill!"

"Kill!"

Suddenly, shouts and the clash of steel erupted behind them within the city. The men dashed back to the inner wall, only to see over a hundred armed men pouring from the shadowed streets.

The Zhao family's retainers and deathsworn immediately rushed to reinforce the gate. No matter what, the gate must not fall.

Moments later, at the western gate under the night sky, the Zhao deathsworn and city defenders clashed with the invaders. Cries and screams filled the air, bodies falling one after another.

Men hacked at each other, heads bloodied, some collapsing against the wall clutching their chests, others littering the ground.

As the corpses piled up, both attackers and defenders were left bewildered.

The invaders could not fathom why so many were guarding the west gate, nor why many defenders were not even soldiers.

The defenders, in turn, realized these were no ordinary refugees—these men fought fiercely, their blades and courage equal to their own.

Yet with survival at stake, there was no time for doubt. Both sides knew: life and death would be decided in these moments.

If the gate fell, the invaders would live and the defenders die.

If th