Sean Xuan truly had a gift. Just from the daytime drills with Serena, he could smoothly set up formations and anticipate several moves ahead, preparing countermeasures for any attack.
During the drills, he was the one launching attacks, so he knew exactly what strategies and tactics the opposing commanders might use. Even before they made a move, Sean had already laid out a flawless defense.
The Three-Kingdom Coalition Army had a hundred thousand troops combined—an impressive number, but they weren’t following a single commander. Even though they’d agreed to advance and retreat together, once the death toll soared, everyone started to hesitate.
Just breaking through the third defensive line had cost them two thousand men—now only eighty thousand horses remained out of a hundred thousand. Seeing the ground littered with severed limbs, the three generals’ eyes turned red with rage.
“Did Prince Nolan’s thirty thousand troops really make it to Skyvault Palace?” The Westlyn general asked, still skeptical.
They’d already lost over twenty thousand men at the third line—could Prince Nolan’s thirty thousand really withstand that?
“We arrived too late. If we’d stuck close to Prince Nolan and William, and not given Skyvault Palace time to reset their traps, our losses would’ve been much lower.” The Eastlyn general regretted his blunder, already worrying about how he’d explain this to the Emperor.
“No point dwelling on it now. Let’s be practical—why don’t the three of us sit down and seriously discuss our next move?” The Southlyn general was the most pragmatic; they didn’t care about territory or forcing surrender, just the money.
“Fine, it’s getting late anyway. Pass down the order—rest here for now.” Can’t fight a war on an empty stomach.
So, the Three-Kingdom Coalition Army stayed put, started cooking dinner on the spot, and Sean Xuan’s group at Skyvault Palace were left staring, utterly speechless.
What kind of battle is this? Who stops halfway through a war to eat? Aren’t they just giving us time to reinforce the traps?
But the white-bearded mechanism master had insight: "Soldiers are people too. The enemy commanders treat this as a real battlefield. Resting now benefits both sides."
It was already dark. If the enemy tried to fight now, they’d only suffer losses.
“Should we launch a sneak attack?”
“No. Our own men need rest and food too. Besides, didn’t you notice they’ve retreated to open ground and dug trenches? They’re already prepared—even a sneak attack wouldn’t achieve much.” Sean Xuan refused without hesitation.
"Pass down the order—rest here." Sean Xuan commanded. Some couldn’t understand, but no one dared question him.
Even those who weren’t soldiers understood what it meant when a command was absolute.
During the battle, even though it was a rest period, not a single person wasted time. Fifteen minutes later, everyone had finished eating and was on high alert, eyes locked on the front.
Torches lit up the entire Skyvault Palace. Tonight, no one could sleep. Even though the coalition army showed no signs of attacking, the defenders dared not relax, each one staring straight ahead, ready to react at the slightest disturbance—a classic case of nerves stretched to the limit.
Even Sean Xuan was swept up in the tension. He was sure that if the enemy was smart, they wouldn’t choose a night raid—the unfamiliar terrain would only make their casualties worse. But...
But what if the enemy loses their mind and launches a night raid?
So, whether the enemy moved or not, everyone at Skyvault Palace stayed on high alert. No one could sleep tonight—they were all waiting, either for a battle tonight or a bloody fight at dawn.
While everyone at Skyvault Palace was focused on the coming battle, a night infiltration was already underway. Lance Quinn, masked and dressed in black, slipped out of the shadows and headed straight for the courtyard where the old Palace Master and Irene Lu were imprisoned.
As for Storm Cloud Bu? He’d long since blended into Nolan’s thirty thousand troops and wouldn’t appear at Skyvault Palace. Sean Xuan had no idea that a top martial artist had slipped into his supposedly ironclad fortress.
Sean Xuan’s ruthlessness was something Lance Quinn had witnessed before, but seeing guards posted every three paces, he realized Sean was even colder than he’d imagined. When he got ruthless, he cut ties with everyone.
These guards weren’t protecting the old Palace Master and Irene Lu. Just as Sean Xuan had said, they were there to keep the old Palace Master, Irene Lu, Sienna, and Jeremy Xuan locked up until death. Unless they died, they’d never take another step outside.
A glint flashed in Lance Quinn’s eyes. He pulled out a thunder-blast grenade from his robe. “Jeremy Xuan, I’ll help you this once.”
As he spoke, Lance Quinn lit the grenade and hurled it toward the southeast corner of the courtyard where the old Palace Master was imprisoned.
“What was that?”
A burst of fire streaked through the air, drawing the guards’ attention. But as they rushed over, the grenade exploded.
Boom—a deafening blast echoed, sparks flashing through the air, and the sharp scent of gunpowder spread instantly.
“Ah—!” came a shrill scream. The closest guards were blasted away; those who arrived a moment later turned pale at the sight. “It’s bad, it’s bad! We’ve got an intruder!”
That was just the beginning. As the guards panicked, Lance Quinn hurled another grenade, then dashed into the courtyard during the explosion’s chaos.
"Stab—"
The guard barely got out a word before Lance Quinn’s sword pierced his throat. Pulling the blade free, Lance slashed another guard’s neck as he charged forward.
Reaching the living quarters, Lance Quinn didn’t go straight to the old Palace Master. Instead, he rushed to Jeremy Xuan’s room. Jeremy looked terrible, his face deathly pale—but that was none of Lance’s concern.
“Who are you?” Jeremy Xuan asked.
“I’m your rescuer. Enough with the questions—I’ve already taken care of the guards outside. Move!” Lance Quinn stood at the doorway, gesturing for Jeremy to hurry.
“Why should I trust you?” Jeremy was tempted, but he didn’t recognize the intruder and had to ask.
Lance Quinn snorted, giving Jeremy a contemptuous glance. "Suit yourself. I don’t have time for your nonsense."
Lance Quinn turned and went to another room, freeing Sienna and Irene Lu. Unlike Jeremy, they weren’t nearly as cautious—at the first sign of rescue, they immediately followed him out.
Behind his mask, Lance Quinn smirked. When Jeremy finally stepped out, Lance said, "Take your mother and sister and go ahead. I’ll rescue the Palace Master and cover your escape. All you have to do is run."
Hearing this, Jeremy’s doubts faded. He nodded gratefully and tried to lead his mother and sister out, but the two women refused to go.
"Jeremy, we can’t leave. If we go, we’ll never return to Skyvault Palace—we’ll be nothing."
"Big brother, I don’t want to go either. I’m the eldest daughter of Skyvault Palace," Sienna complained.
"Yes, Jeremy, let’s wait for the Palace Master. Once he’s out, we can reclaim Skyvault Palace. Isn’t that better?" Irene’s eyes gleamed with hope.
These past few days, the Palace Master had treated her with much more kindness. Irene believed that without Sean Xuan and Fiona Feng, she could hold onto her position as Palace Mistress.
"Mom, Sienna, do you really think Skyvault Palace is still the same? If we stay, we’ll never get it back—we’ll just be locked up again. If you don’t want that, come with me. Otherwise…" Jeremy’s voice faltered.
He didn’t want to leave his mother and sister behind, but after everything, he’d had enough. If they wouldn’t go, he’d go alone—he refused to spend the rest of his life locked in this courtyard.
"Let’s go, Jeremy. I’ll go with you," Irene Lu said. She was a smart woman—she knew her only support now was her son. Without Jeremy, even the old Palace Master wouldn’t listen to her.
"Mom, big brother…" Sienna still didn’t want to leave, but Jeremy didn’t care. He grabbed Irene and ran. Sienna stomped her foot, then had no choice but to follow.
The three of them slipped farther away. Lance Quinn and the old Palace Master watched it all. Only after they’d left did Lance speak: “If I can let them go, I can capture them again and make them die with you. So, are you still not going to talk?”
“That map isn’t complete. What good is it to you?” The old Palace Master was no longer crazed—just weary and old, his ambition gone.
"That’s my business, not yours. Just tell me where the map is." Lance Quinn’s sword stayed pressed to the old Palace Master’s throat—a blatant threat that enraged him.
Since taking over Skyvault Palace, no one had dared threaten him with a sword—Lance Quinn was the first.
"What if I refuse?" The old Palace Master’s wrinkled face twisted into a strange smile. "You think I care about that woman or her children?"
He hated Irene Lu for making him a laughingstock, for twenty years of wasted effort. Every time he saw Jeremy and Sienna, he resented that they weren’t Yimo’s children.
Letting them live was only because being imprisoned here was a fate worse than death.
"I think you’ll talk. You may not care about them, but you care about her." Lance Quinn pulled a portrait of Mo Lu from his robe and snapped it open.