Chapitre 68: Chapter 67: Instance dungeon!
In a secluded house within the city, the door remained tightly shut, seemingly uninhabited for a long time. Fear gripped the city since the bandits had taken over, and the surroundings were eerily quiet. Few people lived in this area to begin with, and now it was desolate.
A shadow silently dropped from the rooftop, landing in the courtyard. He tossed a heavy bag.
The man in the courtyard caught it, his expression smug. "You Easterners can be quite reliable, it seems. You know the difference between a single feast and a lifetime of comfort."
This man was none other than Baihu Xu, who had fled the battlefield earlier! His chest was roughly bandaged but still showed traces of blood.
"However, you didn't have to go so hard on me. If not for my armor, that blow could've silenced me for good."
Speaking in broken Eastern language, Baihu Xu's words were clear enough for the black-clad assassin to understand. But as the assassin opened the bag, his expression soured.
"Is this all? We agreed to split all the loot once the city fell. Don't tell me this is everything you found."
The black-clad assassin responded, "The general ordered a rest tonight. The plundering starts tomorrow morning. Don't worry; you'll get your share of gold and silver, and those who pose a threat to you will be dealt with."
With a dissatisfied grunt, Baihu Xu relented, "Fine, I'll give you one more tip. Gao Ze isn't dead, and he's likely gathering the militia to attack tonight. Make sure you kill him, or I risk being exposed."
The assassin turned to leave. "I don't need your advice."
As the assassin exited the courtyard, a cold glint flashed. Zhao Haiping leaped from a nearby rooftop, swinging his blade down at the assassin!
The assassin reacted instantly, rolling to the side just in time to dodge. Zhao Haiping pressed forward with a relentless assault, giving him no time to draw his sword in retaliation.
"If I were an assassin player, I might have killed him in one strike. But that's fine; as long as I have the upper hand, I'll still win!"
Zhao Haiping's unyielding aggression struck fear into the assassin, who couldn't comprehend how this seemingly ordinary man had appeared out of nowhere.
Confident in his stealth, the assassin had ensured no one was following him, yet somehow, this man had tracked his every movement, landing blow after blow in ways that left him no chance to counter.
Baihu Xu, startled, rushed out of the house, only to see Zhao Haiping's blade cut through the assassin's throat.
"You killed me seventeen times, but I only need to kill you once," Zhao Haiping muttered, flicking the blood from his blade as he turned to Baihu Xu.
He had memorized the assassin's route over several attempts, each time trailing him until the assassin noticed and attacked. Bit by bit, Zhao Haiping pieced together the route to Baihu Xu's hideout.
This time, his ambush had succeeded.
Baihu Xu was stunned, unable to understand how a common militia could be this formidable. He tried to flee, but it was too late. Zhao Haiping's blade sliced down, breaking open the bag of loot, spilling silver and gold.
With an expression of disbelief, Baihu Xu collapsed, his vision fading.
…
Inside the theater.
"The Southern Court surveys its ancient lands, turning the pages of its storied past…"
Su Xianjun sang on stage, his melody drifting through the theater, captivating even the drunken bandits. The general and the scholar sipped their wine, unaware of the looming danger. They didn't know their lookout would never return.
Then, Su Xianjun's voice took on a new tone.
"...Personal grudges may be forgiven, but the country's wounds are eternal!"
In an instant, all sound seemed to vanish.
The scholar, finally alert, sensed something was wrong, but it was too late.
Footsteps echoed from outside, and the smell of oil filled the air.
"Fight your way out!"
The drunken bandits scrambled, attempting to rush through the theater doors, only to find Gao Ze and his three hundred militia blocking the way, torches in hand.
Flames leaped up, casting an orange glow in the dark sky, spreading rapidly over the wooden theater structure, marking the countdown to death.
The bandits, in a frenzied panic, attempted to escape, but the militia held firm, determined to let none pass.
Gao Ze shouted, "If we don't kill these bandits, how can we avenge Lord Tang? Kill them!"
Everyone fought with unrestrained fury. In the face of their nation's ruin, words were pointless—only blood could answer their grievances.
As the theater began to burn, Su Xianjun continued to sing.
Then, amidst the chaos of fire and blood, he glimpsed Yang Xinyan among the fighters.
"Chu's soldiers surround us… the King's last breath approaches… How could his lady live on?"
Through the flames, Su Xianjun looked toward Yang Xinyan one last time.
Encircled by blood and fire, they seemed, at that moment, to become the tragic figures of Consort Yu and the King of Chu.
…
"Help! Save me!"
The scholar pleaded desperately, but a lone wanderer ignored him, scaling the burning wall to escape.
At the main entrance, the Eastern general and the bandits tried to break through, with Gao Ze and his militia blocking them. They couldn't spare a thought for the fleeing wanderer.
Just as he thought he'd escaped, he noticed a seemingly ordinary militia man emerge from the shadows beyond the firelight.
"Though my battle with you might not determine whether we clear this instance," Zhao Haiping said, "I still want to fight you."
He drew his blade, gripping it firmly with both hands.
The wanderer, though unable to understand Zhao Haiping's words, looked puzzled. He couldn't fathom why this common man would dare challenge him alone.
Zhao Haiping chuckled. "Don't get me wrong. I have no other reason. I just want to kill you—or be killed by you."
The blade gleamed as it sliced through the air.
…
As Zhao Haiping fell, images from the instance replayed before him like a dream.
The county magistrate shouting "Loyalty and patriotism!" as he fought to his last breath; the elegant Su Xianjun on stage; Yang Xinyan, who chose heroism in the end; Gao Ze, who rallied the militia and died a hero…
And the countless ordinary people—militiamen, civilians, actors—who, like him, laid down their lives for the cause.
"Pity, I still can't beat that wanderer. Doesn't matter; a few more tries and I'll win without taking a scratch."
This time, the trial instance did not reset. Zhao Haiping's perspective shifted, giving him a bird's-eye view.
The theater continued to burn, the militia chasing down the remaining bandits, while the Eastern general and scholar perished in the flames.
[Trial Instance: History Written in Blood]
[Instance Cleared!]
[Clearance Evaluation: Heroes or cowards, perhaps for ordinary people, the choice lies only a thought away.]
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone