Inside Grant City, the streets echoed with the sounds of soldiers searching every corner. The two bizarre incidents that happened this morning and at noon had shaken everyone.
Joseph Qiao knew perfectly well this was no coincidence—especially after hearing Phoenix Yu recount the events herself.
"Yuna, are you sure you didn’t see that soldier?"
Lucille Xing looked at Yuna Ji, who was lying on the bed. Lona Long sat nearby, holding her head with a grave expression, and Lily Mao was there as well. The situation left everyone confused. Lona Long couldn’t recall seeing anything—when she woke up, she was in a vegetable patch, with no memory of what had happened before.
"Wait, I do remember a soldier wearing a mask."
Lona Long suddenly called out. Lucille Xing eyed her suspiciously. Everyone in this palace had been strictly vetted—let alone wearing a mask, even their hair was tied up high, faces fully exposed.
"Are you sure, Lona?"
Lucille Xing still found it hard to believe. In her mind, such things were far too strange. Lona Long had previously said she remembered the courtyard being filled with soldiers when she left, but Phoenix Yu insisted he hadn’t seen a single soldier when he came in.
For three whole days, every street and alley in Grant City, every household, was thoroughly searched, but not a single clue was found. Eventually, things quieted down.
At night, near the aviary, nine people gathered together. Joseph Qiao sat by the fence, deep in thought.
"Did you think of something, Joseph?"
Lucille Xing asked. Joseph Qiao shook his head.
"Big brother, could it be some kind of evil spirit?"
It was Mason Mao, the youngest, who spoke up. Instantly, Phoenix Yu’s expression changed—he seemed to remember something.
"It might be sorcery."
Everyone turned to Phoenix Yu, who began to explain.
"I’ve seen things that no ordinary person could possibly do. When I was young, my tribe fled to the Northwest Wild Tribe. They painted their faces and bodies with brightly colored, strange symbols, chanting things no one understood—and somehow, the sick would recover."
Lucille Xing immediately leaned in, eyeing Phoenix Yu with suspicion.
"Really?"
There were people in Grant City who practiced sorcery, but they were only useful for rain prayers or festivals. In all the years Lucille Xing had lived here, she’d never seen anything as supernatural as what Phoenix Yu described.
"Assign more guards at all four city gates."
Joseph Qiao said, rising to his feet. He intended to seek out King Grant.
Arriving at the King's Residence, King Grant was inside, carving words at his desk. A tortoise shell lay before him, already inscribed with many characters.
"Yusheng, you’ve come late—are you here about the mountain ridge?"
Joseph Qiao nodded. King Grant stood up.
"When I was young, in order to quell the rebellion, I boldly appointed some of the lower-ranking tribesmen. The results were remarkable, and I finally secured the Grant Family’s city. But now, I am old."
King Grant walked out step by step, Joseph Qiao following. Under the cold moonlight, a chill permeated the air—King Grant couldn’t help but shiver.
"When I was young, I could run through the forests in this cold, even without clothes. But now, just a breeze makes me tremble."
Joseph Qiao seemed to understand what King Grant was trying to say. He nodded.
"Ah, my eldest son—Edward, you know him well. He lacks talent, whether in judging character or devising strategy; he’s not as clever as Simon, nor as composed as Sophie. But there’s one thing—everyone in the tribe respects him. He treats the soldiers and our people well, and that is the only thing that gives me peace of mind."
"That’s true, King Grant. Edward may lack strategy, but I admire his courage. Still, ruling a nation requires more than that—if I may speak frankly."
Joseph Qiao spoke plainly. King Grant didn’t blame him, simply nodded.
"Fortunately, we have Simon, and a few of you, Yusheng. The Grant Family has lived in peace for too long—this generation is weaker than the last. If war breaks out now, we’re doomed. Wynn Domain and Sage Domain have far more troops than we do. Many tribes in Grant Domain have changed chieftains recently, and people’s hearts are unsettled. That’s why I reluctantly agreed to the ceasefire with Wynn Domain and Sage Domain. But a fiercer war will come within a few years."
"King Grant, if we can build the fortress on the mountain ridge, it’ll be like driving a massive stake into the heart of Grant Domain. It would protect Grant City and the southern grain fields. The enemy’s real target is the southern grain fields—so their attack will come from the east and south. Grant City is easy to defend and hard to attack, and if they try, they’ll pay a heavy price. But if they break through the central pass, they’ll be able to march straight in and seize the fields."
King Grant looked at Joseph Qiao with delight; his analysis matched thoughts King Grant had long held.
"Five years—at least five more years of preparation. If we make a move now, Wynn Domain and Sage Domain won’t just stand by and watch us build a fortress on that ridge. The enemy is in the same situation as us; they’ll probably stay quiet for a while, too."
Joseph Qiao said no more. Just as Simon Grant had said, King Grant was thinking further ahead than anyone else. The Grant Family couldn’t act on their own—there was also the Zou Clan in the east.
"What does Wynn Domain really want? Huh? We’ve already lost so many people, and yet..."
Stanley Tang hadn’t finished speaking before a violent cough overtook him. He clutched his mouth—no matter how many times he saw it, the black liquid he coughed up reeked of blood. Though Tang Lan kept insisting it was just a lingering effect, the more Stanley Tang thought about it, the more afraid he became.
In front of him sat a man in his twenties, eyes sharp. He was one of the three commanders of Wynn Domain—Liang Bing, a pillar of his domain as his name suggested. Calm and collected, he had skillfully withdrawn Wynn Domain’s troops to the Tang Clan’s residence before suffering heavy losses in the war.