Chapter 43: The Stern Dragon
Under the cover of darkness, the quartet—Tian Heng, Lilith, Faela, and Failar—moved silently and gracefully toward the narrow pass between the hills, which Faela had identified as a favored route for bandits. The air was cold, and the moon was partially veiled by scattered clouds.
"We ambush them here," Tian Heng said quietly, pointing to a rocky bend that offered good cover. "Faela, move like a shadow to the opposite heights—observe and intervene if needed. Lilith, you're with me. Failar," he turned to the elven warrior with a cold gaze that made him freeze for a moment, "your task is simple: don't move unless I command it, and don't do anything foolish."
They took their positions and waited. It wasn't long before they heard uneven footsteps and faint laughter. Soon, six men appeared, clad in rough furs and carrying crude weapons. They moved with overconfidence, comfortable in their familiar terrain.
As they passed the ambush point, Tian Heng gave an invisible signal. Lilith moved with incredible speed, and strands of shadow burst forth, paralyzing two men at the rear and dragging them silently into the darkness. At the same time, the black sword appeared in Tian Heng's hand. With a swift and fluid motion, he cut down the two men at the front before they could react.
The remaining two in the middle froze in fear, then fumbled for their swords. But Faela had already descended behind them like a breeze. With two precise strikes from the hilts of her daggers, she knocked them unconscious. It was all over in less than five seconds.
Tian Heng looked at the four dead and the two unconscious men with complete indifference. "Pathetic creatures," he muttered coldly, his tone dripping with disdain. "Even surviving is beyond their capabilities."
He turned to Failar, who stood tense, having taken no part in the fight. "Wake them. I want answers."
Failar kicked the captives awake, not gently. They trembled in fear, the stench of death heavy in the air.
Tian Heng began the interrogation. He wasn't cruel in the conventional sense—he didn't resort to physical torture (at least not yet)—but his absolute coldness, his golden eyes that seemed to pierce their souls, and the strange aura of power surrounding him quickly broke their will. He asked sharp, specific questions about their hideouts, leaders, knowledge of the baron's guards, caravans, any unusual activities in the area. He scoffed at their stammered responses or feeble lies. "Do you really think such a stupid lie would fool me? Your minds are as miserable as your weapons."
While Tian Heng focused on one prisoner, the other—bolder or more desperate—kept watching Failar, who stood aside. Perhaps he noticed the fear in the elf's eyes, or perhaps he wrongly sensed a potential ally. He whispered quickly, "Help me... help me escape... we can survive together... I'll reward you…"
Failar froze. The internal struggle was written across his face. Fear of Tian Heng, the shame he felt, the despair of his situation… all mixed with the sudden temptation of rebellion or escape. In a moment of catastrophic decision, driven more by desperation than any real plan, Failar drew his small dagger and lunged—not at Lilith this time, but directly at Tian Heng from the side, while the latter was still questioning the other prisoner.
"Die!" Failar screamed in desperation.
But Tian Heng, despite his apparent focus, had been aware of him the whole time, thanks to his heightened senses and awareness. He wasn't surprised—he might have even expected it. Just before the dagger reached him, he turned slightly, and the black sword reappeared in his hand. There was no powerful strike, just a fast and precise flick of the wrist.
The black blade sliced through Failar's neck with terrifying ease. His head separated from his body and fell to the ground with a muffled thud.
Tian Heng stood still, the black sword dripping a few dark drops of elven blood. He looked down at the corpse and severed head with total indifference, as if examining a crushed insect. The sword faded, returning to a tattoo on his arm.
The two remaining prisoners stared, eyes wide with absolute terror, paralyzed. Lilith gave a wide, satisfied smile. Faela merely raised an eyebrow, showing no emotion—only, perhaps, a cold understanding.
"Useless. And spent," Tian Heng said calmly as he looked at Failar's body. Then he turned to the prisoners. "Seems you've lost any desire to lie now."
They returned to the temporary cave, leaving behind the corpses of the bandits—and the traitorous elf—in the dark pass. Tian Heng informed Elara and Lyra of what had happened in a few brief, direct words. Lyra collapsed into silent sobs, while Elara stood pale as a ghost, trembling but not daring to utter a single word of protest.
Tian Heng gathered his remaining four followers—Lilith, Faela, Elara, and Lyra. He stood before them, his new aura—a mix of icy coldness and draconic majesty—weighing down upon them.
"Failar was weak and foolish. The price of betrayal is death."