Chapter 68: The Thirteen Dragon Guards

"Since this is a gamble, there should be stakes. If I win, you will all follow me," Jiang Pingchuan said seriously, gazing into Long Da's eyes.

"Senior, if we lose, we have to follow you, but what if we win?" Long Er asked, looking at Jiang Pingchuan. All he knew was that if he lost, he would have to follow Jiang Pingchuan.

"Has your brain been kicked by a donkey? My master bringing you out has already fulfilled his side of the wager. You got the better end of the deal and still complain," Lan Dao snorted coldly, clutching his bronze box. Long Er glared angrily at Lan Dao, who raised his chin in disdain, unafraid.

"Very well, we'll wager. What is the bet?" Long Da understood Jiang Pingchuan's meaning. Just as Lan Dao had pointed out, Jiang Pingchuan was already paying his side of the wager by leading them out, and the three of them had gained a great advantage.

"The bet is whether any of you will survive once you leave. If you all die, I'll consider that I never saved you. But if even one of you remains alive, you must come find me and follow me. Do you understand?" Jiang Pingchuan swept his gaze over the three before him, observing their reactions. Long Da nodded at his words.

"Agreed. It's a deal," Long Da said solemnly, cupping his hands to Jiang Pingchuan.

"A deal, my foot! Can we trust people like you?" Lan Dao scoffed at Long Da's earnest expression. Angered, Long Er and Long San stepped forward, intent on teaching Lan Dao a lesson, but Long Da reached out to hold them back.

"The Thirteen Dragon Guards never break our word. If you, Senior, don't believe us, we may as well stay here and die; you can leave," Long Da said to Lan Dao, though his words were meant for Jiang Pingchuan as well. Long Da guessed Jiang Pingchuan wasn’t from this land or wasn’t famous on this continent, and thus wouldn't know the reputation of the Thirteen Dragon Guards. But Lan Dao surely did.

"The Thirteen Dragon Guards? Didn’t they disappear long ago? Are you truly members of the Thirteen Dragon Guards?" Lan Dao’s demeanor shifted, no longer frivolous, but respectful.

"Oh? Are they famous?" Jiang Pingchuan looked from Lan Dao to the three men before him. Other than their cultivation at the third level of Qi Training, there seemed little about them to attract his attention. He was new to the Changfeng Continent and unfamiliar with its renowned figures. Still, seeing Lan Dao’s attitude change, Jiang Pingchuan realized this Thirteen Dragon Guards was no ordinary group.

"Master, you may not know, but the Thirteen Dragon Guards were renowned across the Changfeng Continent. They vanished years ago, and no one has seen their true faces. So I cannot be sure if these are the real ones," Lan Dao explained, sensing Jiang Pingchuan’s confusion. Unfortunately, he had never seen what members of the Thirteen Dragon Guards looked like and could not verify their identities.

"Ten years ago, we went into hiding as Marquis Wu’s retainers. We were thirteen brothers; now, counting two outside, only five remain," Long Da said, his voice tinged with sorrow as he sniffed. Jiang Pingchuan did not ask further. He already guessed that these men were in the clutches of Marquis Wu, tormented by the dilemma of the two still held by the marquis.

"I'll lead you out. If your mission fails but you survive, seek me out. Understood?" Jiang Pingchuan patted Long Da on the shoulder, then turned to leave.

"Senior, if we survive, will you spare our lives?" Long Er called after Jiang Pingchuan, his voice trembling with fear. Jiang Pingchuan turned and looked at him.

"Do you think my master’s words are empty? If you live, obediently come to him," Lan Dao said irritably to Long Er. In his heart, the Thirteen Dragon Guards had once been sacred. But knowing they served Marquis Wu—who was not a good man—Lan Dao’s mind was in turmoil, for this was all the marquis’s doing, and he wanted Lan Dao dead.

"Senior, my second brother means no offense. We simply don’t want to be anyone’s dog again," Long San said, bowing to Jiang Pingchuan, fearful the man would take offense and kill them, making their wager meaningless.

"Dog? Men are far more useful than dogs. Though harder to keep, is not the challenge all the more enticing?" Jiang Pingchuan laughed at Long San.

"Thank you," Long Da and his brothers exchanged glances, then bowed deeply to Jiang Pingchuan.

"No need for thanks—just return alive," Jiang Pingchuan replied. He mounted his Cloud-hearing Horse, and with a light command, the horse strode into the depths of the forest. Lan Dao considered calling out, but after a moment’s hesitation, decided to follow Long Da and the others, trailing obediently behind the horse.

Clutching the bronze box, Lan Dao muttered to himself as it shook violently in his arms, as though the infant’s head inside was desperately trying to break free. The more he felt the trembling, the greater his unease, for if whatever was inside escaped, he would be the first to suffer.

In Jiang Pingchuan’s palm, a purple aura slowly wreathed the Cloud-hearing Horse’s neck, swirling around its eyes, which now gleamed with clarity. As the horse walked, a path seemed to open before them, and scattered rays of light began to pierce the forest. Lan Dao and the others followed closely, their breaths warming, the atmosphere shifting from eerie cold to a gentle heat. When Jiang Pingchuan finally halted the horse, the group also stopped.

"We’ve emerged. Here we part ways," Jiang Pingchuan said, signaling to Lan Dao. Lan Dao leapt onto his own horse, hurriedly shoved the box into Jiang Pingchuan’s hands, and rubbed his own hands together.

"Senior, farewell. If we survive, we will follow wherever you lead," Long Da declared, clenching his fist in salute. Seeing Jiang Pingchuan nod, the three quickly vanished into the forest, their true energy propelling them. Lan Dao’s eyes shone with envy and resentment; he both admired and despised those who could cultivate true energy.

"Master, where are we headed?" Lan Dao asked from behind Jiang Pingchuan, still stunned by the marvels he had just witnessed.

"To the royal capital. To find Fluffy," Jiang Pingchuan replied, patting the Cloud-hearing Horse’s neck. The horse galloped swiftly east toward Dongzhou.

Deep within the forest, hundreds of armored soldiers, spears in hand, patrolled around a temporary tent. Inside stood a young man and an old man draped in a red robe embroidered with spider patterns.

The youth wore a robe of water-blue, with fine brows and piercing eyes, his twin pupils icy cold. He idly toyed with two crystal spheres as the old man kept his face hidden, his very presence suffocating. The youth watched the three kneeling men before him, the crystals in his hand hissing softly.

"Young Master, we failed to kill Lan Dao. Please punish us," Long Da said, bowing low. The youth was Zhao Wenjie, son of Marquis Wu, and the leading figure among the young nobles of the Southern Province, famed as the only double-pupiled man on the entire Changfeng Continent.

Yet, due to the continent’s restrictions, he had been unable to break through to the next realm for years. Even so, few could match him. In a true life-and-death struggle, even those hailed as the continent’s strongest might not easily defeat him.

Long Da and his brothers had returned to Zhao Wenjie’s camp. Besides Zhao Wenjie’s own soldiers, there had once been hundreds of Lan Dao’s men as well. Lan Dao had come at Zhao Wenjie’s invitation to hunt, unaware it was a trap. Long Da had noticed upon arrival that all of Lan Dao’s guards were gone—only one explanation: Zhao Wenjie had killed and buried them all, leaving no trace. That was his style—always striving for perfection, leaving no loose ends.

"Punish you? Brother Long, what are you saying? We call each other brothers—why would I punish you for a mere Lan Dao?" Zhao Wenjie stepped forward, helping Long Da to his feet. Long Da, trembling with dread, knew Zhao Wenjie’s nature well: he would never let them go for failing their mission.

"Youth Master, we have failed your expectations, we..." Long Da began, bowing once more.

"Enough, Brother Long, say no more. You may leave," Zhao Wenjie interrupted coldly, his face dark. Long Da and his brothers bowed and withdrew. Watching the tent flap fall, Zhao Wenjie’s eyes glinted with malice as he snorted softly.

"High Priest, what did you observe?" Zhao Wenjie sat, fiddling with his crystal sphere, inside which two dragon-like auras swirled.

"They all deserve to die," the High Priest rasped, his voice as harsh as stones grinding together. Zhao Wenjie shuddered at the sound, his expression darkening as he glanced at the old man.