193: The struggle for the throne
The northern border of Yunzhou, a strategic frontier town.
It was dusk, and the setting sun was as red as blood, staining the military camp that stretched for more than ten miles with a layer of solemn, dark red.
A faint scent of blood permeated the air; after days and nights of fierce fighting, even the evening breeze could not disperse it.
This place was the front line of the war between the Great Gan and the Northern Barbarians, where banners blotted out the sky and spears stood like a forest.
Countless elite soldiers clad in armor patrolled between the camp areas, their soaring iron-blooded Evil Qi dispersing the clouds in the sky.
With hundreds of thousands of border troops gathered here, ghosts and gods avoided the area within a hundred-mile radius, and evil spirits found it difficult to invade.
Ordinary minor ghosts and evil spirits, let alone entering, would be directly obliterated by the Evil Qi if they even came slightly close.
Powerful surges of Qi intertwined and clashed in the Void Realm as Cultivators from various provinces of the Great Gan—Confucian, Buddhist, Daoist, and Martial—gathered together, making the frontier defense line incredibly solid.
Inside the main camp.
In a slightly secluded tent arranged with a strict Formation.
Several middle-aged men dressed in official robes with profound auras were sitting together.
They were several supervisors of the Yunzhou Immortal Conferring Department. Usually, they were big figures who could Summon Wind and Rain within the Yunzhou territory, but at this moment, each wore a look of fatigue, and their official robes were stained with a bit of dust and blood.
“Tsk tsk, that sword strike today was truly stunning and unparalleled.”
A supervisor with a goatee picked up his teacup, took a light sip, and sighed. “The Lishan Sword Sect truly deserves to be the leader of the world's Sword Cultivators. That Elder forced the Northern Barbarians' Great Shaman back thirty miles with just one sword strike.”
“That sharp and matchless killing intent made even those of us standing in the rear feel a chill throughout our bodies, as if our Primordial Spirits were about to be torn apart.”
“Indeed.”
Another supervisor nodded and said, “Sword Cultivators focus on slaughter. One sword strike channeled the Geng-Metal Qi of heaven and earth, the sword light dividing into thousands, forcibly breaking through that Great Shaman's Ten Thousand Poison Blood Evil Barrier.”
“If not for that, today's battle would likely have been even more difficult.”
One supervisor changed the subject and whispered, “But then again, our Yunzhou has been really lively lately.”
“Besides the war on our side, I heard... that Ninth Prince, Prince Ning Zhao Ming, has also quietly arrived in the Yunzhou territory?”
As soon as these words were spoken, the atmosphere in the tent stagnated slightly.
“Prince Ning?”
The goatee supervisor raised an eyebrow and pondered, “He’s not enjoying his life in the capital, so what is he doing coming to this war-torn Yunzhou? Could it be... he's also here for the military merits on the front line?”
“Heh, is there even a need to guess?”
Another supervisor sneered. “Although the position of Crown Prince is set, the ultimate outcome is not. Which of the other princes doesn't have designs on it?”
“Prince Ning’s maternal family has immense influence, and he is deeply favored by His Majesty. His arrival this time is likely for more than just picking up some military merit.”
“I heard General Qin was poisoned by shamanic toxins and urgently needs a primary herb for Alchemy to detoxify. Prince Ning wants to use the excuse of searching for the medicine to perform a miraculous feat, thereby winning over the military and suppressing the Crown Prince.”
“If he succeeds, the scales of this struggle for succession will likely shift once again.”
The few of them talked back and forth; their voices weren't loud, but the topic became increasingly sensitive, gradually touching upon the core power struggle of the Great Gan.
“Watch your words!”
Just then.
The Chief Supervisor, who had been resting with his eyes closed in the head seat, suddenly snapped his eyes open and coldly scanned the group.
“This is a military camp, and walls have ears!”
“Are royal matters, especially the struggle for succession, something you all can discuss so casually?”
“If this spreads or is heard by someone with ulterior motives who then reports it, how many heads do you have to be cut off?!”
The Chief Supervisor's voice was stern.
Hearing this, the other two supervisors felt a chill in their hearts, only then realizing they had spoken out of turn.
In such a sensitive period, recklessly discussing the imperial succession was a major taboo.
They quickly fell silent, looking embarrassed and not daring to say another word.
Tranquility returned to the tent, leaving only the dull echo of distant war drums.
However, the calm did not last long.
“Hmm?”
The Chief Supervisor's brow suddenly furrowed slightly, his gaze shifting to the ground beneath his feet.
At the same time, the other two supervisors also sensed something and sent their Divine Sense into the ground.
Within the intricate ley lines, a cold and obscure aura was moving rapidly toward their tent.
“Yin Qi... could it be a Ghost Cultivator?”
The goatee supervisor stood up, a dharma ruler already in his hand, and shouted sternly, “What audacity! To dare trespass into the frontline camp, you're simply courting death!”
“Wait!”
The Chief Supervisor raised his hand to stop him, a hint of surprise appearing on his face. “This aura... why does it feel somewhat familiar? It seems like... our Fengxian Division's Yin Spirit Cultivation Technique?”
“It’s Lu Changfeng!”
Another supervisor exclaimed, recognizing the visitor's identity. “Isn't he stationed at the prefectural city? Why would he suddenly run to the front line, and even use the Ley Line Evasion Technique that consumes so much energy?”
The three of them looked at each other, an ominous premonition suddenly rising in their hearts.