Old Gray held a high rank within Ghost Hall. It had only been seven days since their group set out, yet Ghost Hall had already caught up to them—and not with a small force, either.
When Ninth Royal Uncle learned of this, he openly ordered stricter security, but secretly left a flaw in the defenses to make it easier for Ghost Hall to rescue their man.
Ghost Hall didn't disappoint. After tailing them for three days, they finally spotted the loophole that Ninth Royal Uncle had deliberately exposed.
That night, Ghost Hall took advantage of the guards’ exhaustion and slipped into the place where Old Gray was being held.
“This damned weather is freezing. Spring’s here but there’s still no sun.” One of the guards shivered. “Bro, watch for me—I’ve got to take a leak.”
“Go ahead, go ahead. He’s half-dead anyway—what’s there to watch? You think he’ll run off by himself?” The other guard yawned, unconcerned.
“He can’t run, but someone else could get in. The higher-ups stressed again and again: don’t let that old doctor in. If something happens, we’re screwed.” The guard heading out was clearly nervous and repeated the warning.
“Alright, alright, I get it. Just go already—someone will be here to switch shifts soon.” The man waved impatiently, slapped his own face, and tried to stay alert, pacing outside.
“Now.” A Ghost Hall operative signaled in the dark, and two black shadows lunged at the guard…
“Ah… ghost!” The guard cried out, but before he could finish the word, his voice was cut off.
"What was that sound?" The changing guard heard the noise and rushed over.
"Move it! Someone's coming."
"Got it."
Two shadowy figures slipped into the tent, calling out softly, "Old Gray?"
The old man lay motionless on the bed, face ashen like death, but suddenly his eyes snapped open, sharp light gleaming in the murky depths. "You’re here."
"Thank goodness you're alright, Old Gray!" The two shadows were clearly excited, hurrying up and asking respectfully, "Can you walk on your own?"
"Nope." Old Gray shook his head, a flash of killing intent in his eyes. The two figures didn’t waste words, just hefted him onto their backs and headed out.
"Assassins! Assassins!" The guards outside yelled, and soldiers burst out of their sleep, grabbing their blades. "Hurry! They're heading southeast, don't let them get away!"
"They're here to snatch the prisoner—don’t let them escape!"
"Protect His Highness!"
Warren Yu’s men were all elite soldiers—swift, agile, and unflappable. Each did their job without panic or confusion, even when things went wrong.
"Warren Yu’s soldiers really are exceptional," Serena remarked, watching their orderly maneuvers with open approval.
"These are Yu Clan’s private house troops—loyal only to the Yu family, generation after generation."
"As long as Warren Yu stands with you, that’s all that matters." Serena’s modern thinking set her apart—she never saw repeated betrayals as proof Warren Yu was untrustworthy.
"I won’t kick him to the curb just because he’s done his job." But I also won’t give him too much power.
Prince Nolan’s answer was vague. Normally Serena wouldn’t push, but today she didn’t want to be so rational or well-behaved. No matter how Nolan felt, she pressed: “So, you’ll still rely on Warren Yu?”
Vincent Su was right: to stand beside Prince Nolan, she’d forced herself to be calm and rational, always putting the big picture first—but she’d lost herself in the process.
“You care about him?” Nolan raised an eyebrow, secretly pleased. Since Skyvault Fortress, he and Serena hadn’t spoken this naturally.
“He’s my friend—of course I care,” Serena replied easily. When Nolan didn’t answer, she pressed again: “Come on, will you really keep relying on Warren Yu?”
Her slightly spoiled tone wasn’t annoying—in fact, it made her seem closer. Nolan smiled indulgently: “As you wish. I won’t let you down.”
Torchlight lit up Prince Nolan’s face, magnifying his faint smile—so dazzling it was almost impossible to look at directly.
Serena lifted her chin in triumph. “That’s more like it.”
By now, the clash between the guards and Ghost Hall was over. Seeing the deputy general approach, Serena headed back to her tent first: “I’ll go write Warren Yu a letter—let him enjoy the good news, too.”
Prince Nolan nodded slightly, giving silent consent.
Making Serena happy was easy enough—using Warren Yu again wasn’t difficult, as long as he didn’t get command of the troops.
Ghost Hall’s only goal was rescuing Old Gray. After taking him, they didn’t linger; instead, they split up like shadows, drawing the pursuers away.
It was the dead of night and unfamiliar terrain. Fearing a trap, the soldiers didn’t dare pursue too far and came to consult Prince Nolan.
“Chase them.” If you’re putting on a show, you have to play your part all the way—anything too easy or convenient would be suspicious.
With Prince Nolan’s order, the camp erupted into activity. The deputy general sent out three detachments of three hundred men to pursue, leaving five hundred to guard Prince Nolan and Serena.
Torches turned the camp as bright as day. No matter how deeply anyone had slept before, now everyone was wide awake and alert, watching all directions in case someone tried to hurt Prince Nolan amid the chaos.
The Ghost Hall operatives who’d rescued Old Gray didn’t dare relax for a moment. They ran at full speed, terrified Prince Nolan’s men would catch up and ruin everything.
“Is anyone chasing us?” After running for half an hour, they finally stopped to catch their breath.
“Doesn’t look like it. Weird—no one’s chasing us. That’s suspicious.” The bull-headed brute muttered, and another companion retorted, “Old Gray’s no use to them. Why go to all this trouble chasing us? It’s not like we snatched that pretty-boy prince.”
“If he’s useless, why keep him alive?” The bull-headed brute snorted. “Think, will you? Eastlyn’s Regent Prince isn’t some muscle-bound fool.”
“Who says I’m not thinking? There’s only a thousand of them, split into three groups. How could they chase us? One-on-one, even the best soldiers aren’t our match.”
“Twenty-Two’s got a point. Eastlyn probably won’t risk splitting up their forces to chase us.” The deep-voiced leader’s words settled the group, though the bull-headed brute still looked uneasy: “Seventh Brother, I’m not paranoid, but… you heard Old Gray. That business with the Lan heir is just too coincidental.”
“Doesn’t matter if it’s deliberate or not—we can’t let ourselves be played.” Seventh Brother was cautious, too.
“Either way, we’ll investigate ourselves. If that Liancastle Lord really is a Lan heir, we’ll kill him.” Twenty-Two was hotheaded, and the bull-headed brute snorted, “Letting yourself be used and still thanking them—brilliant. How did you survive being this dumb?”
“You calling me dumb?” Twenty-Two roared, drawing his blade to attack. The bull-headed brute wasn’t fazed—he just sneered and charged right back.
Just as the two were about to fight, Seventh Brother rushed forward to break it up—but before he could say a word, hoofbeats thundered in the distance…