74: Chapter 74 Hiding in the Outhouse

Everyone was stunned for a moment.

"Who is speaking?"

"What did he say?"

Many people thought they had misheard.

They subconsciously turned their heads and looked in the direction the voice came from.

Zhou Yun was standing there.

There was no expression on his face.

But everyone who saw his eyes felt a chill at that moment.

Those eyes—were like a pool of stagnant water.

Calm to the extreme.

And the calmer he was, the more it made people shudder.

"L-Lord of the City?"

Lei Lie spoke tentatively, his voice unconsciously softening.

Zhou Yun's lips moved.

This time, his voice was no longer as soft as before.

Every word was crystal clear.

Every word carried the weight of a thousand jin.

"Kill."

He said.

The thousands of people present were deathly silent.

Captain Zhao's smile froze on his face.

Zhou Yun's gaze swept across the row of City Guards kneeling on the ground.

He looked at them one by one.

Then, he spoke.

His voice was not loud.

But every word was like a nail, hammered one by one into everyone's ears.

"These City Guards of Han City—"

"Every single one of them."

"All of them..."

"Kill!"

The moment these words landed.

Everyone present felt their chests tremble in unison.

It was not because the order itself was so terrifying.

But because—the person who gave this order was Zhou Yun.

It was the Zhou Yun who abolished the execution line.

It was the Zhou Yun who gave steamed buns to refugees, boiled spirit rice porridge for the sick, and said to the thousand coerced poisoners, "I judge by actions, not by heart; you are innocent."

It was the Zhou Yun who had never, ever been willing to kill.

They knew exactly what kind of person their City Lord was.

If he were not angry to the extreme—

To the point where even he could no longer suppress it—

He would never have said such words!

These words coming from Zhou Yun's mouth were ten thousand times, a hundred million times heavier than coming from anyone else!

Because this meant—

He was truly, truly angry.

And his anger—was everyone's anger!

That overwhelming rage that had been pressed against their chests, held back, nearly burning through their internal organs—

At this moment, it was completely ignited.

"Kill!"

Lei Lie was the first to roar.

The aura of a Silver Rank warrior fully unleashed, his voice exploded like a thunderclap across the entire wilderness.

"By order of the City Lord—!"

"Execute all City Guards of Han City immediately!"

"Kill without mercy!"

Before the words even faded, he had already drawn his blade.

A flash of the blade, a blinding cold light.

"No—!"

Captain Zhao's face turned deathly pale in an instant.

The triumph and certainty that had just been hanging on his lips were like a basin of ice water poured over his head, disappearing without a trace.

He struggled frantically, his bound hands twisting desperately behind his back, the rope digging into his flesh, drawing blood.

"No, no, no—you cannot kill me! I opened the city gates! I have merit!"

"I surrendered! You cannot kill those who surrender!"

"I beg you! Spare my life! Spare my life—!"

The other City Guards also erupted in chaos.

Some kowtowed thud-thud-thud, their foreheads hitting the ground with dull sounds.

Some were so scared they lost control of their bladders, a dark stain seeping through their crotches.

Some wailed and crawled toward Zhou Yun, wanting to hug his legs—only to be kicked back by a Flower City soldier.

"My Lord, spare us! We were truly forced—"

"I didn't want to kill anyone! It was Captain Zhao who made us do it!"

"I beg you! I have elderly parents and young children—"

Cries, pleas for mercy, and the sound of kowtowing created a chaotic mess.

But it was useless.

Zhou Yun stood in place, motionless.

He didn't even look at them.

His gaze—looked toward the wilderness in the distance, which was covered in corpses.

Those elderly. Those women. Those children.

The infant clutching a moldy black cake.

When they died, did they beg for mercy?

They must have begged.

They must have cried.

They must have knelt.

But... was it any use?

So now—

"Swish!" The blade fell.

The first head rolled onto the ground, bringing up a spray of blood.

Captain Zhao's voice came to an abrupt end.

His body fell straight forward, blood gushing from his neck like a spring, staining the soil beneath his feet red.

That face, still bearing unwillingness and fear even in death, lay crooked on the ground, eyes still wide open.

Immediately after—the second. The third. The fourth!

The Flower City soldiers swung the swords in their hands.

No one hesitated. No one went soft.

Those pleas for mercy were cut off one by one, like candle flames being extinguished.

Blood splashed onto the withered yellow grass, mixing with the blood of the innocent victims not far away.

Soon—it was quiet. Completely quiet.

Those three hundred Flower City soldiers from Han City knelt before the corpses of their loved ones.

Their tears were still flowing.

But it was different.

The tears from before were of despair, suffocation, and helplessness.

The tears now—were scalding hot.

"Father! The City Lord has avenged you!"

A man held his father's cold body and wailed.

"You can close your eyes now! You can rest in peace!"

"Grandpa! Grandma! The City Lord has avenged you—!"

"Wife... child... do you see? Those beasts... are all dead..."

The wailing resounded across the wilderness once again.

"No."

A calm voice pierced through the wailing.

Everyone looked up.

Zhou Yun was standing there.

There was still not much expression on his face.

But his eyes—were still cold.

"Not yet," he said.

Three hundred people were stunned.

What not yet?

The revenge... was it not finished yet?

Just then—a noisy commotion came from the direction of Han City.

Everyone looked in the direction of the sound.

Strategist Zhu Ge's wheelchair appeared in their field of vision.

Two soldiers were pushing him, followed by a squad of fully armed Flower City elites.

And in the middle of that elite squad—a person was tied up securely, being dragged over.

Disheveled hair. Face covered in mud.

His robes were torn in several places, the skin on his knees scraped, oozing blood.

It was obvious he had been caught while trying to escape, and had fallen quite a few times.

City Lord Zhang Hao. The Lord of Han City.

Caught.

Strategist Zhu Ge's wheelchair stopped in front of Zhou Yun.

He did not ask for credit, did not say much, just said indifferently:

"Hiding in an outhouse in the north of the city."

The soldier escorting City Lord Zhang Hao kicked him in the back of the knee.

"Thud—" City Lord Zhang Hao knelt down firmly.

His knees hit the hard ground with a dull thud.

He bared his teeth in pain and subconsciously tried to stand up.

But the two soldiers holding him, one on the left and one on the right, pressed down on his shoulders with hands like iron pincers.

He could not move.

He could only kneel.

Kneeling in front of Zhou Yun.

This posture made every nerve in his body scream with humiliation.