Chapter 63: Trapped in a Predicament

“Strike first to gain the advantage; strike later and suffer the consequences?” In an instant, Diao Chan understood the meaning behind Luan Yi’s words. “Are you planning to lead men into the city to execute Zhu Ying?” she exclaimed in alarm. “Though Zhu Ying is a villain, he is still a court official, a representative of the imperial authority. If you act without an imperial edict and storm the city to kill him, wouldn’t that be open rebellion? That’s treason of the highest order!”

Luan Yi reassured her, “Rest easy, Chan’er. Ever since I arrived in Jinan, I have been compiling evidence of Zhu Ying’s crimes. I have gathered over a hundred charges against him, all substantiated, and have sent the records to Wang Zhonglang in the capital, with Mao Jie and Luan Fu carrying them on swift horses. Soon, the imperial decree will arrive. What I do tonight is merely a preemptive act of self-preservation; it cannot be considered rebellion.”

“If that’s the case, I am relieved,” Diao Chan replied, though worry still clouded her face. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Her gentle tone warmed Luan Yi’s heart. He replied with deep affection, “Thank you, Chan’er. There’s nothing that requires your assistance for now. Just stay in the residence with Sister Cai and keep safe.”

Diao Chan nodded. “When do you plan to enter the city and strike down the traitor?”

“Tonight!”

The moon climbed above the treetops, pausing at the edge of the cliff. A drifting cloud crossed the inky sky, revealing a scattering of stars that glittered like the neon lights of a celestial metropolis. In the southern mountains of Licheng County, Jinan, silence reigned. The beasts that bustled by day were at rest, not a sound disturbed the night, even the usually noisy insects and birds held their peace, as if sensing that this night was unlike any other.

In this unnerving, bone-chilling quiet, a force of over a hundred soldiers slipped out from the headquarters of the Holy Mother’s Church at the foot of Lishan. At their head rode Luan Yi himself.

He was clad in radiant Holy Cross armor. On his head was a silver helmet crowned with a plume dancing in the night breeze, ringed with an exquisitely carved lotus motif. The visor covered his face down to the bridge of his nose, revealing only his deep eyes reflecting the starlight. The gleaming, contoured armor accentuated his imposing physique, the shoulder plates rising high in the shape of bear claws. The breastplate bore a massive, shimmering cross, proclaiming his faith and allegiance. In his hand he wielded the lotus war hammer, astride a pure white Xiliang steed—an image of heroic grandeur.

Behind him stood Dian Wei, towering and strong in his own suit of silver armor, a cross emblazoned upon his chest. At Luan Yi’s signal, he raised his halberd and shouted, “Move out!”

The hundred or so Holy Guard soldiers advanced in tight formation, silently making their way toward Licheng’s southern gate. Before they left, Luan Yi turned his horse and surveyed the towering church walls. Inside, over two hundred more Holy Guards remained, enough to keep his family safe.

Within half an hour, Lishan Gate—the southern gate of Licheng—appeared on the horizon, its imposing doors set in a wall over thirty feet high, with a moat more than seven paces wide below. The water, fed by springs from around Jinan, was not swift but over three meters deep; no one in heavy armor could cross it unaided.

Fortunately, Luan Yi had made preparations. He gave a cold command, “Signal.”

“At once!” The Holy Guard produced firebrands and lit three torches, waving them in the air.

Moments later, three torches shone atop the gate as well, spinning clockwise. Then, with a creaking sound, the drawbridge slowly descended, revealing the dark entrance and the silent street beyond.

Dian Wei beamed with delight. “Heaven favors us! Master, Gate Captain Sun Zhang has kept his word and opened the gate for us.”

Luan Yi did not reply. His gaze swept the shadowy entrance; he couldn’t shake the feeling that it resembled the open maw of a beast waiting to devour them. A sense of foreboding stirred within him.

Little Wu, sensing Luan Yi’s hesitation, stepped forward. “Master, there’s no need to worry. I personally brought Sun Zhang into the church. I witnessed every step, from sermons to prayers, to his decision and baptism. I can guarantee his absolute loyalty to the Holy Mother.”

Those last words reassured Luan Yi. Seeing Little Wu’s earnest oath, his doubts vanished. He nodded. “Into the city!”

At his order, the Holy Guards surged through the gate, crossing the broad, clear moat, passing beneath the archway, and charging onto the deserted streets.

But as Luan Yi steadied himself, ready to begin the night’s grim work, a second, chilling creak sounded behind them. This time, the noise brought not excitement but icy dread, like a wail from the depths of hell.

Someone cried out, “No—!” Panic swept the ranks as they turned to see the drawbridge slowly rising, cutting off their retreat.

“How can this be?” Little Wu was shaken, his voice laced with disbelief and anger, repeating over and over, “How can this be?”

Little Bai seized Little Wu by the collar and accused him bitterly, “Is this your so-called absolute loyalty? You’ve doomed us all!”

Luan Yi, too, was shocked, but he knew that the lives of a hundred men now depended on his composure. He steadied himself and called out, “Do not panic! The Holy Mother will protect us, she surely will! Pray with me… O Mother in Heaven, your children are in great peril; grant us wisdom, resolve, courage, and strength to save us from disaster. With your boundless mercy, guide us to destroy the wicked and slay Zhu Ying the traitor. Amen…”

“Amen!” As the prayer ended, the Holy Guards felt their terror melt away, as if the Holy Mother herself had infused them with new strength. Their eyes burned with zeal, ready to fight and die for their faith.

Just then, hundreds of torches were raised along the battlements—over three hundred in all. In their flickering light, a figure emerged from behind the parapet: it was Sun Ru, grinning maliciously, his voice shrill as he taunted, “Luan Ziqi, you’ve walked right into my trap! I’d like to see how your Holy Mother saves you now. Ha ha ha…”

There was a sudden clatter of staves on the ramparts, and in the city’s alleys and streets, countless torches flared to life. Government troops poured out, sealing every escape, trapping the Holy Guards beneath the city wall.

“Sun Zhang… Sun Zhang… you bastard! Don’t bother hiding, I see you!” Little Wu raged at the tower, cursing, “You traitor! You dare betray the Master, betray the Holy Mother! Aren’t you afraid of going to hell?”

With a bitter face, Sun Zhang poked his head over the wall and wept, “Brother Wu! Brother Wu… I’ve wronged the Holy Mother, wronged the Master… I had no choice, they forced me! Sun Ru and the others—they took my wife and children. If I didn’t do as they said, they’d slaughter my whole family! I—” Before he could finish, a sword pierced his chest, blood gushing down the wall. He turned to glare at his killer—Sun Ru—and spat, “You fiend… may you rot in hell!”

Sun Ru sneered, “Still invoking your Holy Mother, are you? Courting death!” He yanked his sword free, spraying blood across his face.

Sun Zhang grimaced in agony, blood pouring from his mouth, eyes bulging. With his last strength, he cried out, “Master… Holy Mother, forgive the sinner Sun Zhang!”

Grief-stricken, Luan Yi called up to him, “The Holy Mother is merciful—she will forgive you and open the gates of Heaven to you.”

“Really?” Sun Zhang’s dimming eyes suddenly shone. Tears mingled with blood as he murmured, “Then all is well… all is well…” His tears and blood ran down the wall, a reflection of the pain and sorrow in Luan Yi’s own heart.

Luan Yi cursed through his anguish, “Sun Ru, I swear relentless enmity between us!”

“Relentless enmity?” Sun Ru laughed. “Luan Yi, still mouthing bold words at this hour? I’ll see if you live to see tomorrow’s sun.” He paused, then smiled coldly. “Oh, before you die, let me enlighten you. You thought your secret movements at night went unnoticed, but I’ve been watching. I made preparations not just for you here—another force is attacking your church even now. By now, they’ve probably taken it. Pity old Luan Miao, whose only fault was raising such a trouble-making son—now doomed to die by the sword. Genius indeed… ha ha ha!”

“Sun Ru, curse your ancestors to the eighth generation!” The news of the besieged church made Luan Yi’s eyes blaze with bloodshot fury. His mind raced—trapped, encircled, was this to be his end? No, it could not be. His parents were at the villa, Cai Yan and Diao Chan deep in danger; they awaited his rescue. He could not—would not—die here.

His muscles tensed, veins bulging as he gripped his lotus hammer like a raging wolf. “Brothers! We’re trapped between the wall and the enemy, in mortal peril—are you afraid?”

Dian Wei roared, “Afraid of nothing!” The others echoed, “Afraid of nothing!”

“That is the spirit of the Holy Mother’s faithful. We do not fear death, for to us, it is the ultimate return—to ascend to the Kingdom of Heaven, to the embrace of our merciful Mother. But we cannot die yet—the Han still needs saving, so many have not heard the word, not found the path to Heaven. We must live, not for ourselves, but for the Holy Mother, for those who do not know how to live or how to die. We must survive. But if some insist on forcing us toward death, what do we do?”

“We fight them to the end!”

“We fight to the death!”

“We fight to the death!”

At that, the Holy Guards raised their voices in a thunderous cry, a hundred men roaring with the force of a thousand.