Chapter 336 – You Have Met The Khagan, Why Have You Not Knelt? - Part 2

Agony seared up Khustai’s arms; he shrieked, tried to let go, tried to retreat.

Li Yuan didn’t spare him a glance. He patted the stunned young woman beside him. “Inside.”

With a gentle flick, he lofted her into the inner room.

As the girl vanished, Li Yuan stepped forward, planting his right boot squarely on Khustai’s left foot and pinned him. His other boot came down on the man’s right foot.

BOOM! BOOM!

The balcony floor gave way.

Both men plunged straight through, slamming into the street below and cracking the paving stones, yet never breaking their stance.

“GRAGGH! L-LET ME GO!” Khustai thrashed and howled.

Li Yuan’s face remained calm, boot grinding on the trapped feet.

At last, Khustai tore his hands free of the now‑liquefying spear, spun, and clawed to escape. However, he could not tear himself from that implacable weight.

Li Yuan barely looked. He drew the melting spear free; a bright flame raced along the length, turning the metal to glowing slurry.

With a casual knead, he moulded it into a fist‑sized orb and pressed it atop Khustai’s head.

The molten metal streamed into the man’s eyes, ears, nose, and mouth.

“ARKGH! Kah! Gahh...!” Khustai opened his jaws to scream, only for liquid fire to pour in. His struggles went berserk; white smoke curled from hair and skin, flesh reddened and cooked, giving off a sickening mix of roast meat and burning metal.

Li Yuan watched, hands clasped behind his back, calm as a man observing an insect. Only when Khustai collapsed, turning into a corpse with a grotesque

metal skull

, did he lift his foot and walk on.

The Red Crystal Tribe warriors recoiled. None dared advance. Each step Li Yuan took, they took one back.

Then fire blossomed around him. It was an eager, roaring mantle that turned his outline to living flame.

“Khagan Jen’gal Yuan!”

“Khagan Jen’gal Yuan!

The warriors of the Trueflame Tribe roared in exultation.

Li Yuan faced the Red Crystal Tribe “I was born of the Everflame. You were, too. From this moment, the Nine Flames will acknowledge me as Khagan!”

“Nine Flames Khagan!”

The True flame Tribe echoed.

The Red Crystal Tribe stared at the flame, at the corpse at their feet, then at the blazing figure whose features they could no longer see and fell silent.

Li Yuan rose into the air. Flame surged outward, forming a perfect blazing sphere like a sun descending on the earth. His voice rolled across the town, thunder in every ear.

“You have met the Khagan! Why do you not bow?”

Klang!

A warrior of the Red Crystal Tribe dropped his weapon.

Klang, klang, klang!

Many more followed suit, spears and blade hitting stone until the ground was littered with surrendered weapons. One after another, the warriors prostrated themselves, kowtowing to the burning sun as though it were their own sacred fire.

Li Yuan’s voice softened, yet carried everywhere.

“Children, show me the nearest tribe. We will bring them home. The

flame

is your true home, and I, the Khagan, am your Everflame.”

The newly‑subdued warriors rose, still dazed.

Suljagar hefted his spear, strode to their side, and shouted, “Heaven sends the Khagan! Who are we to refuse? Come, every tribe must return to him. From today forward, the Nine Flames unite as one!”

His cry became a chant, rolling down the streets, swelling into a tide—

“The Khagan descends! Nine Flames as one!”

And under a newborn sun of living fire, a fledgling khaganate of tribesmen bent the knee.

The Red Crystal Tribe warriors clutched their weapons, eyes gleaming crimson, and joined the chant.

Soon, the whole warband thundered out of Deerwell, leaving only a handful behind to

house sit

for the Khagan.

˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙

West of Sword Mountain was the great city of Cloudrise, the lone jewel of this barren plateau. Boasting the most beautiful landscape that evoked a sense of awe, it was the biggest commercial trading hub of Cloudpeak Province.

Fed by the waters diverted from the western tundra, Cloudrise’s palaces, pavilions, and pagodas rivaled those of the Central Plains in majesty. In every season, the city presented a different grace. Once it belonged to the greatest clans of Cloudpeak Province.

Now it was the stronghold of the Nine Flames.

Cloudrise’s splendor proved too tempting. The two mightiest tribes of the Nine Flames, Bronze Clad and Blood Arrow, split the city down the middle and claimed it together, while the others tribes dropped by to

play

.

At present, a cold wind blew through, and dusk approached. A steel grey ceiling of cloud pressed low, gusts howled, and the blood red sun bled through the galloping shapes of the overcast.

Yet within the grand dining hall of The Starcatcher, revelry drowned out the bleak evening.

The chieftains of the Bronze Clad, Blood Arrow, White Stag, Red Crystal, and Flamekeeper Tribes lounged amid wine and women, roaring with laughter as dancers spun on the empty floor.

When a girl’s movements grew especially enticing, a chieftain would simply reach out, yank her close, tear the dresses away, and take her where he sat.

They were fifth rank powerhouses; the women were ordinary. What gratified the chieftains left the dancers wrenching in agony, but the tribesmen regarded them as livestock and thought nothing of it.

“Drink! Drink!”

“Hahaha! I can’t get enough of the wine and spirits here! Why did we wait so long to come?”

“Yeah, yeah! I bet those stuck in the tundra are gnawing their guts right now!”

Suddenly, the conversation topic shifted.

“Hey, Suljagar didn’t come. Do you think he’s still brooding over that letter from a month ago?”

“I know why! Seems like he got scared witless by that message from that former Grand Elder!” A fairly handsome man laughed. He was the chieftain of the White Stag Tribe, Bug’aar Bayantai. “I looked into it and that Jen’gal Yuan is only an outsider who married into the Trueflame Tribe. He really thought he could fathom the mysteries of the Everflame and win the favor of the gods? Hahaha! Heard the poor sod ended up getting cursed, and that’s how he lost his position as Grand Elder.”

Across the table was Ulan’der Kundar, the burly chieftain of the Red Crystal Tribe. He was practically mauling the girl in his lap while gnawing a chunk of roast meat off the bone.

He laughed heartily and exclaimed, “That old man Suljagar has really gone senile. He’s done for. I can’t believe he bestowed an outsider the tribal surname and even made him a grand elder! In my Red Crystal Tribe, if that outsider dared to step out of line, I’d have seized his woman right in front of him! Hahaha!”

“Come come come! Enough of the gloomy talk!” a man with skin gleaming like bronze boomed as he lifted a wine jar. He was Khor’eer Hudor, the chieftain of the Bronze Clad Tribe.

The other chieftains lifted their wine jars and roared in approval.

Just then, the girl under the burly chieftain of the Red Crystal Tribe, Kundar, jerked forward and spat something unseen

It flew straight into his open mouth and slid down with his gulp of wine.

“Hrrk! Cough, cough!” Kundar immediately lurched upright and hurled the girl to the floor. He hacked and tried to vomit. Since the Tang Sect had managed to poison 400 tribesmen, even these fearless brutes had learned dread. The outsiders might be weak, arms and legs snapping with a swat, yet they bit like vipers. One nip could prove fatal.

“You bitch! How dare you try to poison me!”

With a roar, he tore the girl’s arm off, seized her by the throat, and stormed to the railing of The Starcatcher, dangling her ten floors above the street.

“Give me the antidote or I splatter you like mud!”

Blood streamed from her severed arm; her body convulsed, yet her eyes stayed icy on his face.

A long, squealing

pffft!

escaped Kundar’s rear. He rubbed his belly, blinked, then gave a crooked laugh. “Well now, doesn’t hurt at all. Just a bit of gas I guess!”

His gaze turned cruel at the despair in the woman’s eyes.

“Too weak,” Kundar sneered.

He squeezed down, crushing the girl’s wrist and toying with her like a cat with a mouse. Then he loosened his fingers and simply let her drop.

From ten floors up, the stone pavement below promised to mash her into pulp.

The woman, Jiang Shu, was no helpless damsel, having been born in a martial clan. But with one arm torn off, her blood energy was in chaos.

Falling to her imminent doom, she let out an agonized scream, more from fury at her failure than at the pain of her lost limb.

She had employed the deadliest poison she knew. Its odor was strong; she dared not slip it into the wine, so she kept it sealed in a thin membrane tucked inside her cheek, waiting for the right moment to spit it down the brute’s throat.

Even so, she had fallen short. Bitter, unresigned, she closed her eyes and braced for death.

Yet death never came.

A powerful hand seized her in mid‑air.

She turned her head and saw a broad‑shouldered man with a greatsword on his back.

“I’ve got you,” he said.

“You fool...I told you to run,” Jiang Shu wept.