Chapter 268 — The Rupture
Yelü Zhangnu clapped his hands three times.
Clap.
Clap.
Clap.
Before the sound had even faded, soldiers came out from the doors, from behind the pillars, and from between the hanging curtains.
Dozens of fully armed personal guards formed a ring around Yeongu first, and behind them five men who looked like masters slowly took their places.
The men who had been hidden drew their weapons and took aim.
They were different from ordinary soldiers.
The sound of their steps was low, and the hands gripping their scabbards were not hurried.
Yeongu glanced over them once, then looked back at Yelü Zhangnu.
"Hm. I wondered if I should say this much... I will simply leave."
Yelü Zhangnu narrowed his eyes.
"What is that? Is that how you ask me to spare your life?"
Yeongu spoke calmly.
"They will all die. I came here to speak, so if I kill them all before leaving, the picture will not look very good."
Yelü Zhangnu gave a thin laugh.
"I never promised to let you leave."
"Oh. So this was never a stage for negotiation."
"That is right. Negotiation happens between equals, when both sides have something to give and receive."
Yeongu scratched his head with an awkward expression.
"Then the picture changes. If I kill them all and walk out, which way do you think this matter will flow?"
Yelü Zhangnu's smile deepened slightly.
"Say something that makes sense."
He took one step to the side.
The guard who had been protecting him at close range immediately followed.
Yelü Zhangnu spoke one last time to Yeongu.
"Go. I pray for your blessed death."
Whistle.
Someone gave a short whistle.
At that signal, the personal guards moved all at once.
The front line raised shields, and the rear line lowered spearpoints.
The five masters did not immediately mix in with the soldiers, but waited one beat behind them, watching for Yeongu's movement.
Yelü Zhangnu felt the attack begin behind him as he walked toward the great hall.
It was a hall decorated in imitation of an emperor's palace.
Silk curtains hung from the beams, gold paint had been laid over every red pillar, and thick mats and carpets covered the floor.
Today was his birthday.
The people who had come to celebrate were already waiting inside the hall.
Behind him came the sound of weapons colliding.
The sound of spear shafts snapping.
The sound of blades cutting through the air.
The sound of someone groaning low and collapsing.
The dull sound of a body being slammed into the floor.
All those sounds mixed together at once and shook the rear courtyard of the hall.
Yelü Zhangnu did not move even an eyebrow.
"Close the doors."
"At once."
The great doors were pushed shut from both sides.
The thick timber met with a heavy thud.
The sound was pushed beyond the doors.
Even so, it did not vanish completely.
Muffled metal sounds, short screams, and footfalls followed through the cracks of the doors.
With those sounds behind him, Yelü Zhangnu entered the great hall.
The people inside rose from their seats all at once.
Their faces had been prepared with smiles and words of congratulation.
Some did not know what was happening outside the doors.
Some knew and pretended not to.
Yelü Zhangnu walked to the seat of honor.
His steps were no different from usual.
The sounds behind him were bothersome.
It was taking longer than he had expected.
But he did not look back.
The moment he looked back, he would be showing those who waited before him that his heart had been shaken.
He took his seat.
The musicians in the hall had stopped their hands and were watching for his mood, but when Zhangnu gestured, they took up their instruments again.
The low sound of the pipa and flute began to flow.
The clash of iron outside the doors faintly overlapped it.
The first guest came forward and bowed.
"I wish the general long life and lasting health."
Yelü Zhangnu smiled elegantly.
"I thank you."
He opened a box placed beside him and handed over a small silk bundle.
It was an old custom for the one receiving congratulations to return gifts in turn.
The second person came forward.
Then the third.
They bowed in order, offered their words of celebration, and set down the gifts they had brought.
Yelü Zhangnu showed the same smile to each one.
His words were gentle, and his gestures were relaxed.
Looking only at his face, no one would have thought that blades were being drawn outside.
The sounds beyond the doors slowly changed.
At first, it had been the sound of many men pushing in all at once.
Soon, the sound of things breaking grew louder.
Spear shafts cracked, shields dropped, and bodies fell one over another in succession.
After that, the screams grew shorter.
There were more short, choked breaths than long cries.
They were the sounds of breath being cut off at the instant of impact, with pain only following after the body had fallen.
Yelü Zhangnu's fingertip brushed once over the rim of his teacup.
He immediately recovered his smile.
"You must have had a long journey."
"How could I miss the general's auspicious day?"
"Sit. Today, I shall not spare the wine."
He said this and lifted his cup.
The people in the hall raised their cups with him.
Another dull impact burst from beyond the doors.
It sounded as though someone had slammed into the door.
The door panels rang loudly once.
The people in the hall all turned their eyes toward the door at the same time.
Yelü Zhangnu set down his cup and laughed.
"It seems the soldiers are a little too excited."
At that, the people forced themselves to laugh.
The laughter was thin.
No one tried to look toward the door again.
Yelü Zhangnu drank a mouthful of wine.
The fragrance of the wine spread in his mouth, but beneath it, he felt as though the smell of iron was seeping in.
He counted the time inwardly.
Dozens of personal guards.
Five masters.
Closed doors.
A place where archers were also standing by.
Was it truly taking this long to deal with one prisoner?
The thought passed through him for a moment.
He immediately pushed it aside.
Today was his birthday.
People had come with gifts and were looking at his face.
He could not waver.
Whatever was happening outside, Yelü Zhangnu inside the great hall had to remain the master of the house.
How much time had passed?
Perhaps a quarter of an hour.
Just as Yelü Zhangnu raised his cup, the door through which he had come reopened.
The door panel shook as though pushed from the inside, and two guards rolled over the threshold into the hall.
One was clutching his shoulder, and the other clawed at the floor, unable to draw breath properly.
It looked as if both had already lost their breath and had only fallen inward because the door had opened.
Beyond the door, there was not a single person still standing.
Fallen soldiers lay tangled in layers, and spear shafts, shields, and broken blades were scattered among them.
Blood had gathered on the floor, and the marks of men slipping on it stretched all the way to the door.
Most of them were Yelü Zhangnu's personal guards.
From within that scene, Yeongu staggered out.
"Ugh. Ugh."
His clothes looked heavy, soaked full of blood.
Blood dripped from the ends of his sleeves and the hem of his martial robe.
Yeongu grimaced as he looked at the blood on his clothes.
He stepped carefully, as though the bloodstained man himself were trying to avoid something filthy.
That absurd carefulness made the scene even more terrible.