Under the force of the fierce winds, the trees and tall grasses swayed violently, as if sharing Zhang Yu's shock. his eyes wide open, silent.

"The Prince of the Ji Empire himself, is calling me? No, and for storytelling specifically?! Even if I'm not the smartest person, this is very clear! How can this be a prince? Or am I just overthinking it?"

Zhang Yu turned completely, clasped his hands together again, and lowered his head. "Your Royal Highness, if you can confirm the treatment for my sister, forget about the stories whether you ask me to climb the sky or dig into the depths of the earth, I will obey without hesitation!"

Despite the deep respect in his voice, no response came from the prince. A moment passed. The loud chirping of the birds filled the silence, as if they could not bear it. Zhang Yu remained in place, his anxiety growing more and more.

 It seemed like his entire fate depended on a single word from the prince. He felt a lump in his throat, almost choking him.

Half the incense stick had burned. The silence was so thick that the fall of a needle would sound like thunder. Beads of sweat appeared on the foreheads of some soldiers, as if they had lost their sense of time, not daring to even breathe audibly.

"Is the prince... angry?" one of them wondered anxiously. "If so... we are as good as dead!"

As for the generals, they remained completely still—like stone statues, showing no signs of life. They embodied the eerie calm before the storm.

"He won't order my arrest, will he?" Zhang Yu thought. "I haven't said anything wrong!"

Suddenly, small stones rose from the ground, hovering in the air. The earth shook slightly. The temperature rose. A suffocating feeling crept through the place. Although it was not directed at them specifically,

 fear found its way into the hearts of the soldiers in the back rows. Some of them trembled, while those closer to the center barely reacted—they were used to this. Only a few showed a change in their expressions.

As for Zhang Yu, his eyes widened in terror. He realized his complete helplessness. The presence of a tyrant loomed over his mind, making him feel like nothing more than a trivial insect. A crushing pressure squeezed his chest, threatening to stop his heartbeat.

His instinct was right. A suffocating aura seeped into the air, unnoticed at first. They only became aware of it when the winds turned into violent whirlwinds swirling around them. The nearby shrubs were uprooted. As for the birds? They fled in terror.

It didn't take long for the winds to grow fiercer. The tangled currents turned into sharp blades cutting through the air. The massive trees that had withstood storms began to show deep, twisting cracks.

From the middle of the procession, the aura flowed out from inside a luxurious carriage. Inside, the prince sat, tapping his finger rhythmically on the wooden surface—as if composing a deathly tune.

After a moment, he stopped. He rested his fist on his temple and exhaled deeply. His face darkened, and his eyes narrowed slightly. Then, with a nonchalant wave of his hand, he muttered, "Intriguing... Even rats have grown bold enough to bite. A mere peasant dares to bargain with me, a Prince of Ji? How strange. What kind of fools have I encountered? Does he think himself important?"

Other thoughts flooded his mind. He closed his eyes as if lost in deep contemplation. A quarter of an incense stick passed before he inhaled the cool air, and his grim face slowly relaxed.

Finally, he opened his eyes. Their gleam was unwavering, his confidence absolute. A sinister smile curled on his lips, as if a wicked idea had just been born—a perfect trap. 

He said in a calm, confident voice, "Of course, my friend. If you doubt my words, I'll give you a promise. Fang Bai! Bring me the brush and the paper!"

Outside, the suffocating aura began to fade, allowing the warriors to finally breathe again. Just moments ago, they had felt as if a mountain was crushing them. As the aura disappeared, the winds also calmed—completely.

Among the soldiers, those who had kept calm suddenly found their bodies shaking—not from relief, but from pure terror. Some pinched their skin as if trying to confirm they weren't dreaming. One of them turned to his companion, his eyes wide in panic.

"A-Are you sure this is the prince?!"

His companion didn't answer—not because he couldn't, but because his tongue had dried up completely. His eyes trembled as his veins pulsed violently. Then, he dropped his gaze. In the blink of an eye, his hands were soaked in blood, holding a severed head.

A surge of terror hit him like a lightning bolt. He felt as though he was staring at death itself. His legs gave way, but he barely stayed standing.

"No... don't move! If you do... you'll die!"

He almost dropped the severed head. Desperately, he raised his gaze. But… he shouldn't have done that. But could it have made a difference?

His eyes met the general's. One gaze pleaded for life, the other… was the cold stare of a demon.

All traces of fear vanished from the soldier's face, replaced by overwhelming despair. His skin turned pale, and finally, his knees buckled and he fell to the ground.

In that moment, the general furrowed his brow. The air twisted, forming an invisible blade. A raven croaked before the soldier's head exploded in a burst of blood, his body collapsing lifelessly. The bird swooped down, tearing at the corpse, quenching its thirst with the crimson liquid.

The general looked at the body indifferently. No emotion showed on his face as he spoke coldly, "Weaklings have no place among us. If you let your emotions control you, go serve that despicable prince, Ji Chang."

The soldiers had no choice. They raised their weapons together, and their chant echoed through the air.

"Long live Ji! Long live Ji! Long live the Emperor! Long live the Emperor!"

But their fear wasn't just of the general's words—it was of the prince's actions themselves. He wasn't a forgiving man, but an arrogant tyrant who might kill for the slightest reasons. One word from him could determine the fate of thousands. Even animals weren't safe from his brutality.

There was no room to oppose his will. He was an absolute ruler—a true tyrant.

In the midst of their shock, a horse moved from the center of the procession, ridden by a handsome knight. Immediately, the soldiers cleared the way for him, lowering their upper bodies in a sign of respect. They were elated. The knight's spear pierced the sky, looking like a celestial ruler. 

His eyes were far more beautiful than the twinkling stars. His muscles were defined, as if his body had been painted by an artist who perfected his masterpiece. He was perfect! There were no flaws in his appearance. 

He approached the prince's carriage, lowered his head, and his ear ornaments, shaped like white swords, swayed. He waved his hand and lowered the spear to the ground. "Your esteemed Highness, here is the brush and paper."

Zhang Yu calmed down, his heartbeat slowed, and his trembling ceased. He stood naturally again. His facial expressions returned to normal, but more than that, he appeared relaxed, as though sinking into warm water. 

General Fang Bai's voice was angelic. It sounded like a musical instrument playing the tune of life, pulling you with it through the dancing grasses and above snowy mountains, in the springs and depths of the seas.

Despite the dramatic entrance of General Fang Bai, what Zhang Yu or the soldiers did not realize was that behind this angelic appearance and what lay beneath it, there was a well-hidden ugliness...

At the carriage, the prince extended his hand. The sunlight reflected off the green dragon coiled around it. To the prince, dragons seemed like mere lizards. It was made of metal, but it was extremely shiny. The scales were crafted with precision, 

making the soldiers feel as if they were truly moving. When the air struck the dragon, a terrifying roar echoed! This dragon was the symbol of Ji. He took the paper and brush, saying calmly, "Leave now."

General Fang Bai nodded before bowing and disappearing among the hundreds of soldiers. A strong voice spread, but within it was a warning, "Say it, Zhang Yu, what do you want as a guarantee of my words?"

--

chapter 10: 

The sun had reached its peak, its rays striking the land directly, as if impatiently awaiting Zhang Yu's response.

His eyes were vacant, reflecting the turmoil raging in his mind. A shiver ran through him as the cold breeze pierced his body. He thought, " Is he really asking me to determine the guarantee? Is he testing me? No… if that were the case, he wouldn't have killed the soldier. Yes, there's no doubt about it! "

Tension thickened. Everything seemed to halt in anticipation—from the towering trees to the smallest blades of grass, from the birds in the sky to the ants in their colonies. Nature held its breath. A terrifying stillness took over, as if time itself had stopped to watch. Some sank deep into their thoughts, imagining the possible outcomes.

Some expected a battle; others hoped for peace. Yet, with no sign of either, they waited for the spark that would set the forest ablaze.

Finally, Zhang Yu moved. The moment had reached its climax. He took two steps forward, beads of sweat trickling down, betraying his tension. The soldiers' excitement surged. Though simple, the moment felt grand.

He dropped to one knee, planting the other firmly. Resting his elbow on his forward knee, he clasped his hands together. He appeared somewhat composed, but what the soldiers and generals failed to sense was that his breathing had become heavy, his heartbeat erratic.

His mind was a battlefield, engulfed in chaos. Thoughts clashed and crumbled, reduced to rubble with every passing second as he prepared his response. His mind was like a city turned to scattered ashes.

At the heart of the procession, inside the carriage, a low voice cut through the suffocating silence. The prince's smirk widened, his eyes narrowing, revealing a sinister delight. It was as if he already knew what Zhang Yu would say—it was only a matter of time.

Beside Zhang Yu, his mind had gone completely blank. He had no options left; every thought he had carefully considered had vanished. Swallowing hard, he shivered slightly before finally making his decision.

"My honored lord, I am in no position to determine the guarantee. Give me whatever you see fit. I do not dare choose something over you. I am not worthy of such an honor, my lord!"

After such a dramatic move, silence returned, bringing with it a new wave of tension—tight chests, trembling hands, heavy breaths, and minds drained from relentless thinking. Everything crushed the spirit, lifting it to its peak only to shatter it in an instant.

Fortunately, only a few minutes had passed. The carriage shook again, but this time, it wasn't in response. Instead, a deep, guttural laughter erupted. It was laced with unmistakable mockery,

like a spectator giving a standing ovation to the perfect ending of a play. The laughter echoed throughout the area, as if this entire situation was nothing more than a chessboard—pieces moved at will, sacrifices made without hesitation.

Everyone shuddered inwardly, even a few of the generals.

"As you wish," the prince said. "Since you have asked for a guarantee, I will write you a pledge. If I fail to keep my word, you may take it to the judges of my empire, and they… will grant you justice. Of course."

The wind howled fiercely after a long pause, weaving through the grass and the gaps in the branches, making the surroundings sway wildly, filling the air with a cacophony of noise. It was as if nature itself protested the last turn of events.

The wind found its way into Zhang Yu's ears, yet his head was empty. Only the sound of screams echoed within.

The screams in his mind intensified. The noise of nature took on a different meaning—an external manifestation of his internal chaos. Thoughts clashed. His heart pounded faster. His body trembled, sweat dripping onto the ground like salty rain.

When Zhang Yu realized there was no escaping the worst outcomes, he surrendered. There was no use thinking any further. He accepted whatever would come.

After all, he was just a peasant—accomplished in nothing, possessing nothing. No one knew him. No one cared about him. If he vanished from this world, who would notice? Who would mourn? No one... except that little girl!

Exactly! The image of that girl surfaced before his eyes. He no longer cared about brotherhood, nostalgia, or the past. But his mission—his mission mattered! He had nearly forgotten that he had something he needed to accomplish.

Nature's tone shifted. The wind quieted. The grass and trees returned to stillness. It was as if they were mere reflections of Zhang Yu's inner state.

Bit by bit, he pushed the fog out of his mind. His gaze lost its emptiness. His mission was what brought him clarity. He steadied his thoughts, stopped his trembling—even if just slightly. He closed his eyes and took in a deep, cool breath.

A conversation played out in his mind. " Enough. As long as Wu Chi is with me, no matter what happens, he will save me! He needs me to complete his mission, and I need him to ensure my safety. So, no matter how bad things get… I still have hope! "

Perhaps Zhang Yu was mistaken in making Wu Chi his beacon of hope. But he was not entirely wrong. These moments were the first steps in shaping himself in this world—one of the most pivotal moments in his life.

Who knew? This might be the turning point that changed his life forever… or erased it. Or perhaps, something else entirely awaited him.

His body stopped trembling. Fear no longer lingered—only conviction remained. The cold that had seeped into his limbs dissipated, replaced by something new… resolve.

The wind's tone changed once more, as if bowing before him, as if singing a new melody—a melody of strength!

With newfound confidence, Zhang Yu declared, "Thank you, my lord. I will never forget your grace for as long as I live. My life is in your hands now. Take it if you wish, or invest in it as you see fit"

He straightened his posture. He raised his hands high and shouted, "Long live the prince! Long live the prince! Long live Ji! Long live Ji!"

The carriage trembled… No, it wasn't just the carriage. The very air seemed to shake. A deafening applause erupted, almost splitting the soldiers' ears.

The prince was clapping—enthusiastically—his smile brighter than the sun, as if he had just witnessed the grand finale of a play he had written and directed to perfection.

With delight, the prince said, "Stand, Zhang Yu. I have received your loyalty."

He paused, then his tone changed. It became quieter but brimming with overwhelming power hidden beneath its calmness.

"From now on, anything that troubles you—whether a river, a beast, a man, or even a tree—just tell me, and we shall not remain under the same sky!"

Turning his head slightly, he lazily waved his hand and said, "Liu Yang, give him a horse. We have been delayed long enough."