Chapter 35: Quell Yong’an, Crown Prince Enters the Battlefield

Behind him, both Feng Xin and Mu Qing were in shock. "Your Highness!" they cried and immediately rushed out to stand guard next to him.

However, the citizens on the Grand Avenue of Divine Might had already seen the young man in white who appeared right at the center of the main street. The protesters were broken up but soon rallied, and a crowd of thousands soon surrounded Xie Lian.

The first person spoke, unsure. "My Lord… My Lord is His Highness the Crown Prince?"

The second one was doubtful. "Didn't His Highness the Crown Prince ascend? He's no longer mortal, so why would he appear to us here?"

The third one yelled, "It's him! Three years ago at the Heavenly Ceremonial Procession I saw him with my own eyes; it's His Highness the Crown Prince!"

More and more people began to recognize the face of that martial god they worshipped day and night, and Xie Lian answered them slowly.

"It is I. I have returned."

The people went wild.

"A god descended! A god really descended!"

"A divine being has returned to the Mortal Realm!"

"Your Highness must have returned because you could no longer tolerate seeing us suffer the abuse of those thieves!"

Many pressed on, full of hope. "Your Highness, will My Lord lead us to drive out those Yong'an interlopers? It's for certain, right? It must be so!"

After a pause, Xie Lian answered calmly, "I have returned to protect the Kingdom of Xianle, to protect my people."

Feng Xin and Mu Qing listened to him intently as they stood by his side, but they couldn't be sure what exactly those words meant—yet the citizens whose minds were addled by hot blood interpreted them as they wished. As for Xie Lian, he had his own concerns. His heart was racing

aster and faster, and he gritted his teeth.

"Believe in me…!"

He clenched his fists and cried, "Your belief will grant me greater power. With this power I promise I will shield Xianle with my life and protect the common people. Please believe in me!"

The people had been waiting for this very moment; all they wanted was that pledge. They erupted in fervent cheers and kneeled to prostrate themselves in circles that fanned outward.

"We will follow My Lord to the ends of the earth! We'll follow Your Highness!"

"Protect Xianle!"

When the residents of the imperial capital heard that a god had descended upon them, they all poured out into the streets, if only to witness the sort of miracle that wouldn't appear even once in a thousand years. Even the capital guards, who had hurried over to address the chaos, didn't dare to be impudent—they joined the prostrating crowd. The three of them were stuck in the middle of the main street, unable to move, and Feng Xin and Mu Qing tried to maintain order, shouting as they did so.

"Don't push! Stop pushing!"

However, they weren't very effective. Everyone wanted to jostle closer to His Highness the Crown Prince and touch even just a sleeve corner of this divine god from heaven, so some of his holiness would rub off on them. Finally, the king was alerted, and it took several generals leading fully armored soldiers to break up the fervent crowd.

When everyone was gone, all that was left behind was dust-filled air and messy footprints littering the ground. Xie Lian noticed something, and he bent down to pick it up.

It was a single flower. After being trampled by so many, it was almost the color of the dirt below. Only a few ripped petals remained, with just a little of their original purity peeking through.

That faint fragrance didn't last; it soon dispersed.

Now that he understood things a bit better, when Xie Lian returned to the palace, his temper was much softer toward the king. In turn, the king was also far more agreeable toward him. Since they both took a step back, father and son established a tentative peace between them.

As for the state preceptor, it seemed he already expected Xie Lian to descend, so he didn't comment much on the subject.

In the past, Xie Lian had always believed that a nation shared one heart, and that in the face of a serious issue, everyone would undoubtedly follow the direction of the king. That was only natural. However, when he actually sat down to participate, he finally learned just how vexing the position of a king really was. At court, the officials were split into small factions, and each faction had its own plans. To come to an agreement on any one matter could take up to seven days of endless debate. Every official and every faction proclaimed that they were working for the people, but one couldn't help but suspect that might not be entirely true.

The officials were painfully slow at finding a consensus on how to deal with the Yong'an refugees camping outside the city, who had now officially rebelled. Some advocated for direct extermination and if there wasn't good enough reason to do such a thing, they could simply fabricate excuses. But some disagreed with that plan.

The Revolt of Yong'an began with a natural disaster, but the situation deteriorated through human action. That family of three who fell to their deaths at the city gates was the worst catalyst imaginable. The officer who cut the rope would've been severely punished upon his return to the palace if his neck hadn't been snapped by Lang Ying. To put it bluntly—no matter how convoluted the circumstances, no matter the reasons, on the surface it seemed like a straightforward case of the common people rightfully rebelling against an oppressive authority.

Now that things had devolved to the present point of complete pandemonium, fabricating more crimes to punish would only provoke further disgust and whatever reasons they used to justify them would not work to deceive the people. But if they simply deployed an army to exterminate the refugees, it'd be without a just cause and would destroy any illusion of benevolent authority. Preventing gossip was just as important as preventing floods; once a reputation for insensible cruelty was established, not only would the government lose the trust of its people, nearby kingdoms could seize the opportunity to invade under the pretense of eradicating a great evil.

However, thinking about it from a different angle, what was there to be afraid of? The Yong'an refugees were squatting in the wilderness with neither food nor arms, so how long could the revolt last? Thus, the most popular proposal in the end was this: If the Yong'an refugees dare attack, they shall be repelled and killed each time. If they don't, then they shall be left to their own devices to survive or die. Xianle wouldn't need to waste a single resource, and the people of Yong'an would be left to exhaust themselves.

As a martial god, Xie Lian's descent naturally meant he had to demonstrate his worth on the battlefield, so it stood to reason that the army vigorously played up their cause: The side of His Highness the Crown Prince was the side of justice! The army of His Highness the Crown Prince was the army of god!

All of a sudden, countless young men across the entire kingdom excitedly enlisted, and in a few short days, the size of the Xianle army exploded exponentially. It caused such a stir that news of it must have reached the Yong'an camp. They had been regularly raiding in small groups, but suddenly everything stopped, as if they'd grown wary and were silently building their strength. This made the soldiers in Xianle nervous, and over and over they described to Xie Lian just how terrifying that Lang Ying was—the man who was always on the front lines. The sound of his name and the memory of the infant's dead body always brought up complicated feelings for Xie Lian.

After two long months of waiting with bated breath, the Yong'an refugees finally launched another attack.

Xie Lian only brought a short sword and didn't even wear any armor. The battle ended in under two hours.

Blood stained everything, from the earth to the sky to the reeking air itself. The remaining Yong'an warriors abandoned their gear and retreated frantically. Before the Xianle soldiers could react, they were already surrounded by countless slain bodies—there was not a single enemy left standing. As for His Highness the Crown Prince, he was slowly sheathing his sword without so much as a stain on his sleeves.

It was a moment before they could comprehend their own overwhelming victory. They jumped and raised their swords to the sky, screaming themselves hoarse in joy.

That night, the Xianle soldiers held a victory feast atop the towers.

It had been a long time since the soldiers had felt this proud and elated, and the cheers were endless as they raised their cups to praise His Highness the Crown Prince. However, Xie Lian rejected the wine, and he left the party to go to the far corner of the tower by himself, to feel the breeze and sober up.

Even though he didn't drink a single cup of wine, he could still feel his heart burning, his face flushed with heat, and his fingertips trembling slightly.

This was the first time in Xie Lian's life that he had killed. The very first time, and he had killed thousands.

Ants.

The word kept appearing in his mind. Before his might, mortals fell with a single blow; he could destroy them with even a single light squeeze. It was so easy to steal another's life, just as that palace attendant had stomped on the ants. He had almost lost his heart for reverence in between the swings of his sword.

Xie Lian leaned against the parapet and drew in a few deep breaths, shaking his head to shake off the noise, and he stared absentmindedly at the flicker of sparks in the far mountains.

Soon after, the sound of footfalls approached.

Even without turning his head, he knew who it was. "Aren't you two going to go drink and celebrate a little?" Xie Lian asked.

Mu Qing humphed. "What's there to celebrate? The situation doesn't look good."

Hearing that, Xie Lian turned around. "You guys noticed too?"

There really wasn't anything to be optimistic about. Even though they won this round, the truth was this attack was stronger than any previous Yong'an attacks.

Not only had their numbers increased, their formation, weapons, management—everything had improved significantly. Many of them were even dressed in armor. Although still simple and crude, it was obvious they already had the makings of a formal army. It was hard to believe they were actually outcast nobodies.

Mu Qing crossed his arms and frowned. "Extreme environments certainly force one to improve rapidly, but no matter how difficult the situation, you can't create resources out of nothing. Something's not right."

Feng Xin was even more straightforward and said plainly, "They must have gotten reinforcements."

Xie Lian nodded.

"I don't believe that none of our soldiers noticed either," Mu Qing added. "But they're still celebrating because they have you on their side. They believe it's a sure victory."

Xie Lian didn't think much of that. "It's the first battle I was involved in, and we won. It's fine to let them enjoy it a bit. Just think of it as improving morale."

Though he hesitated briefly, Feng Xin still asked in the end, "Your Highness, you don't look so good. Are you still creating rain in Yong'an?"

"Yeah," Xie Lian replied.

As expected, disapproval appeared on Mu Qing's face. "Excuse my bluntness, but it's pointless to create rain now. That's the real bottomless hole. Your Highness, even if the drought in Yong'an could be entirely relieved, that crowd outside the city walls probably wouldn't back off."

"I know," Xie Lian said. "But my rain isn't meant to make these people retreat. It's for those who remained in Yong'an, to make sure they don't die of thirst. That was my original goal, and I won't change it for anything."

Feng Xin was still worried. "Can you really keep this up?"

Xie Lian patted his shoulder. "Don't worry. I have eight thousand temples! There are plenty of devotees, so I'm fine, of course. But…"

His other arm circled around Mu Qing's shoulders, and Xie Lian sighed. "Thank goodness you two helped today. Thank you for staying by my side."

That day on the battlefield, his two subordinates suffered much more than he did. They were absolutely covered in blood and grime from all the killing.

"There's no need to say such things," Feng Xin said, and Mu Qing gave a noncommittal grunt.

Xie Lian squeezed the other two close and said earnestly, "Not just for today but for always—thank you both so much. I hope the sight of the three of us standing tall and fighting together will inspire a story for the ages."

"…"

"…"

A moment later, Feng Xin burst out laughing, while Mu Qing said incredulously, "How do you always say things with…such shameless confidence? You're really…" He shook his head. "Never mind."

Xie Lian's lips finally curled up. But the smile didn't last long, and he suddenly froze.

"Who's there?!"

Sching! Xie Lian's sword was unsheathed. With a light flick of his blade, he plucked a shadow from the corner of the parapet.

The person had been hiding in the corner for a long time, holding his breath, and had surprisingly gone unnoticed until now. Xie Lian had only intended to scare him by hanging him off the tip of his sword, but he had killed too aggressively on the battlefield that day; his arms were still shaking and his hands lost control. His simple flick was too powerful, and he threw the person right over the wall.

Under the moonlight, all three of them were able to see clearly that the person's uniform and gear were that of their own army, and he himself looked like a boy of maybe fourteen or fifteen. The boy hung in midair for a moment, and one breath later, his form disappeared as he plummeted toward the ground below. Oh no! Xie Lian cried internally, and he leapt out.

As he dove over the side, he hooked his foot onto the edge of the parapet, and he swiftly reached out and managed to grab the boy's arm. The young soldier's body dangled in midair and swung back and forth a few times before he looked up. Their eyes met, and borrowing the faint moonlight, Xie Lian was able to see his face.

His eyes widened.