Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 123477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 617(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 617(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
“Your Majesty!” Zhang was on his knees in a flash, his hands cupped in front of him, head bowed. Chen followed a heartbeat later, matching his stance. “Your Majesty honors us with this gift, but my sect and I are not worthy of such generosity. The Sword of the Heavenly Garden is a sect of simple warriors who spend as much time painting and making wine as we do honing our art.”
“Are you refusing my gift?” the emperor demanded in a low voice sharpened to a knife’s blade pressed to their throats. “I am being generous. You’ve lost Zhang Shi Lei. Nearly half of your sect. This offer will save you. Give you a new future.” Emperor Wu huffed. “Don’t force me to make this an edict.”
Chen’s gaze snapped over to Zhang, who was staring at him with wide, panic-filled eyes. They had no choice. To refuse an edict of the emperor was to forfeit your life. It wasn’t just their lives on the line. If they refused, the emperor would march soldiers straight to their clan and slaughter all the juniors who were waiting for news of Shifu and their brothers.
Burying his fears deep within his chest, Chen forced his lips into a tiny smile, trying to reassure Zhang Xiao Dan that it was okay. This was the right decision. The only option that would keep the clan alive and their brothers safe.
Zhang closed his eyes and drew in a shuddering breath. He was the master of the Sword of the Heavenly Garden Sect now. He was the one who would protect and guide them. But this should never have been his first decision as master.
“We accept Your Majesty’s generous gift. We will always strive to honor the Dragon Throne and protect Your Majesty until our last breath.” Zhang Xiao Dan’s voice rang strong and confident throughout the large room.
“Proceed, Minister,” Emperor Wu directed.
Chen’s mind didn’t have a chance to question what would come next. Jiang Chong flew across the room. The man became a dark forest-green blur as he slammed into Zhang Xiao Dan. Jiang Chong was slightly taller than Zhang and weighed significantly less. It didn’t matter.
Jiang handled Zhang as if he were nothing more than a child’s toy, jerking Zhang to his feet and wrapping him up in a disturbing embrace. His lips pulled back to reveal obscenely long, white fangs that he plunged into Zhang’s throat. Zhang gasped and pressed his hands to Jiang’s shoulders, trying to push free, but that struggle lasted for only a second before he went limp.
“No!” Chen screamed. It didn’t matter that he still kneeled in front of the emperor in one of the royal chambers. Loss consumed his thoughts. His brilliant, compassionate master was gone, and now he stood at another precipice as he watched the murder of his senior brother.
His heart in his throat, Chen scrambled to his feet and drew his sword from its scabbard. He swung wildly once, twice. Not really trying to strike Jiang Chong out of fear of hitting his brother. He needed the bastard to release Zhang so he could attack in earnest.
But for each swing, Jiang Chong dodged, twirling across the wide-open floor with Zhang held in his arms, as if in an unbreakable embrace.
“Enough!” Emperor Wu bellowed.
Chen froze, waiting for Jiang to release Zhang, but he didn’t. Chen ripped his gaze from Zhang to the emperor to find the old man glaring at him. The order was for him, not Jiang.
The sword in his fist clattered to the cold stone just a second ahead of Chen’s knees. He prostrated himself before the emperor, his hands flat on the floor and his forehead hitting the stones almost hard enough to daze himself. “Please, Your Majesty! Please, spare his life. Zhang Xiao Dan is no traitor. All members of the Sword of the Heavenly Garden Sect have always been loyal to you. I beg you, please, Your Majesty.”
Emperor Wu made a scoffing noise in the back of his throat. “I told you already this was a gift of immortality! Your martial brother won’t die here today.”
“Well…” Jiang drawled with a note of amusement in his voice. Chen jerked his head up to find that Jiang had lain Zhang out on the floor. His shixiong’s skin was so pale, it took on a grayish hue in the weak light. He didn’t move. Not even his chest rose with breath. Jiang grinned at him; a thick bead of dark red blood trickled down from his lip to drip off his chin. “Not to argue with Your Majesty, but he has to die a little.”
Lifting his wrist to his lips, Jiang bit, opening a large gash, which he held over Zhang’s parted lips. The blood Jiang had stolen was now being replaced with his own.
What was this creature that wore the mask of human?