Laying the Trap, Using Tyre City’s Hand to Kill Ninth Royal Uncle

The gold mine at Little Crest Mountain was covered up by a raging fire. At this point, not even Prince Nolan's men could break through, and even if they did, even if they found the mine, House Lewis would never admit to illegally mining gold.

Catch a cheater in bed, catch a thief with stolen goods—in Little Crest Mountain, everything but the gold ore was burned to ashes in the fire. Prince Nolan wants to use this to bring down House Lewis, but that's almost impossible.

For Prince Nolan, the Little Crest Mountain gold mine no longer holds much value. After one last look at the blazing inferno, he orders a retreat without hesitation.

Of course, it's impossible for Prince Nolan to just return to the city like this. House Lewis, the main culprit, has escaped for now, but Nolan's fury must be unleashed. If not on House Lewis, then on Tyre City.

To avoid alerting Tyre City and provoking a backlash, Nolan can't bring too many troops. He orders the three thousand soldiers to stay outside Little Crest Mountain, waiting for the fire to die down before rushing in to search for the gold mine.

Once the gold mine is found, they are to guard it—he'll send people to extract the gold later.

Nolan knows exactly what House Lewis is plotting—they want to wait until he leaves and then resume mining. Dream on. This gold mine now belongs to Nolan of Eastlyn!

Leaving behind three thousand soldiers and three hundred close-guards, Nolan takes his Eight Commanders and two hundred close-guards, racing toward nearby Tyre City at full speed...

At this moment, Lord Tyre should be praying—praying that his defenses aren't too strong and get wiped out by the Black Riders early, or that reinforcements arrive soon. Otherwise, if he falls into Nolan's hands, he might survive, but his reputation will be utterly ruined. He won't be able to show his face in the Nine Provinces Realm for a long time.

Unfortunately for him, Lord Tyre isn't so lucky. When Third Young Master Lewis receives news that Nolan's men are guarding Little Crest Mountain and advancing on Tyre City, he immediately goes to the wooden hut to consult the mysterious man.

Leaving men behind at Little Crest Mountain—looks like Ninth Royal Uncle has big ambitions." Inside the hut, the man murmured to himself. Outside, Third Young Master Lewis was anxious but didn’t dare rush him.

The man let out a long sigh. "Since Ninth Royal Uncle has set his sights on the gold mine, let him have it. Tell Tyre City's people to act—don’t let the City Lord’s mansion fall too quickly. Also, send men to intercept Tyre’s reinforcements. Let Ninth Royal Uncle vent his fury in Tyre City as much as he likes."

Ninth Royal Uncle, enraged for his beloved, had just suffered a setback at House Lewis’s hands. All that fury and murderous intent needed an outlet—Tyre City was the perfect target.

Even though Third Young Master Lewis hated to sacrifice the people he’d planted in Tyre City, he didn’t dare defy the man’s orders and quickly agreed.

House Lewis was the local kingpin, after all—years of dominance in the Shandong Circuit meant they could easily let Ninth Royal Uncle vent his rage on Tyre City, though the cost would be steep. Just like with the Little Crest Mountain gold mine, House Lewis seemed to have the upper hand, but their losses were immeasurable.

With House Lewis secretly helping, Lord Tyre and his men managed to hold out longer. They didn’t know who these sudden gray-clad fighters were, but anyone helping them fend off the Black Riders was a friend right now.

Under the Black Riders’ relentless bombardment, Tyre City’s defenders somehow lasted a whole day—fighting from dawn to afternoon, then into the evening. Outside the City Lord’s mansion, corpses littered the ground, severed limbs everywhere; those not quite dead lay groaning, but the Black Riders didn’t bother finishing them off.

People doomed to die soon—why waste the effort?

Thanks to the gray-clad men, Tyre City’s forces fought and retreated, finally withdrawing into the City Lord’s mansion. Its high walls and great gate held firm—no matter how many times the Black Riders tried, they couldn’t break through. As their supply of thunder-blast grenades dwindled, the Black Riders’ assault slowed, letting Tyre’s defenders catch their breath.

"City Lord, are you alright?" Hugh Kane, Tyre City’s top fighter, looked fierce but was now in tatters—his clothes shredded, blood streaming from several wounds, a pitiful sight.

Lord Tyre’s hair was a mess, his light-colored robes stained with dust and blood. The clarity in his eyes was replaced by exhaustion; he slumped in his chair, shaking his head slowly. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, another explosion rocked the compound, cutting him off.

They’d heard that sound all day, but Lord Tyre still flinched. Once the blast faded, he hurriedly turned to Mr. Sage. "Sir, do you know what weapon that is?"

"My lord, if my guess is right, that’s the thunder-blast grenade—the same weapon once seen in the Eastlyn imperial capital." Mr. Sage’s brow furrowed. He hadn’t gone out to fight, but he knew all too well how dire things were for Tyre City.

"Thunder-blast grenade? Eastlyn has weapons like that—does the empire mean..." The thought struck Lord Tyre, and his face went pale.

Only now did he truly realize what kind of enemy he’d provoked.

"Mr. Sage, do you think the attackers outside were sent by the Eastlyn Emperor? How could it be, with so few men?" Sean Young couldn’t help picturing Ninth Royal Uncle. For some reason, he felt it was more likely these were Nolan’s own forces.

Mr. Sage shook his head. "These are surely Ninth Royal Uncle’s men. We haven’t actually opposed Eastlyn itself."

All they’d done was offend Ninth Royal Uncle—kidnap the woman he valued and ruin her birthday feast.

"All this for a woman? Attacking Tyre City over a single woman—doesn’t Ninth Royal Uncle fear the consequences?" Lord Tyre snarled, grinding his teeth.

Just for a woman, he dared to massacre a whole city. Was Ninth Royal Uncle just that arrogant, or did he have nothing to fear?

"Afraid of what?" Mr. Sage asked calmly. If you looked closely, you’d catch a flash of sarcasm in his eyes.

Hugh Kane quickly chimed in, "Of course he should fear the Eastlyn Emperor’s wrath. He’s just a prince, yet he commands such a powerful private army—if word reaches the Emperor, he’s as good as dead."

"True, if this gets back to the Eastlyn Emperor, he’ll be branded a traitor. But…do you really think today’s massacre will ever reach the Emperor’s ears?" Mr. Sage sneered—Ninth Royal Uncle wouldn’t act without an escape plan.

"You mean—?" Lord Tyre’s eyes widened in horror as he caught the implication.

Mr. Sage nodded. "If I’m right, Ninth Royal Uncle means to blood-wash the City Lord’s mansion. He doesn’t intend to leave any witnesses alive."

If everyone who knows the truth is dead, and Tyre City is far from the throne, how could the Emperor ever hear about it? Even if a few survivors remain, Ninth Royal Uncle has ways to silence them. As for the Eastmont Governor-General…

What did the Eastmont Governor-General see? Absolutely nothing—and he couldn’t care less about Tyre City’s people. Besides, whether he survives Nolan’s purge is another question entirely.

"He’s really that ruthless? Is it worth it? Fine, forget the gold mine—just let us go." Hugh Kane trembled, all his earlier boldness gone. After seeing the Black Riders in action, he believed Ninth Royal Uncle could do it.

"It’s not about the gold mine anymore—we messed with the wrong man." Lord Tyre, for all his panic, quickly steadied himself and asked seriously, "Mr. Sage, how long until our reinforcements arrive?"

Reinforcements were Tyre’s last hope.

Mr. Sage frowned. "If House Lewis is still helping us, reinforcements should arrive by tomorrow morning. If not…we’re finished."

Lord Tyre was silent for a long time. He understood: if House Lewis abandoned them, Tyre City would be wiped out before sunrise.