Tai Tan’s lips twitched upward, though his small eyes remained sharp..
‘Hmph. Spirit Hall… You dare use your authority to bully Tang Hao, the true heir of Clear Sky Clan? You hunt him and his beloved, using your power spread across the continent.’
His thoughts swelled with defiance, the memory of his clan’s loyalty burning like iron in his chest.
‘Have you already forgotten? It was Clan Leader Tang Chen who once stood above all, who forced your Qian Daoliu into the dirt. Spirit Hall, for all your boasting, is nothing before the might of the Clear Sky.’
A dark satisfaction bubbled in his heart.
‘And today, I’ll collect a little interest. Let me tear down this newly built reputation of yours in Gengxin. That Bishop Robert—let the people spit at his name.’
He had not come unprepared, but had brought blacksmiths and their relatives with little bribe of forging knowledge from him.
Their faces burned with outrage, in the eyes of the growing crowd, it was the righteous fury of wronged craftsmen.
Tai Tan was, preparing to speak again and fan the flames—when suddenly, his body stiffened.
A weight, heavy and oppressive, crashed upon him like a mountain. His knees did not buckle, but his heart lurched.
From the gate of the Spirit Hall branch, two figures stepped forward.
Both were tall, clad in dark uniforms embroidered with the six-winged Angel emblem. Their presence radiated power. Their gazes swept the courtyard with the cold indifference of hunters who had already measured their prey.
The one on the left, She Long, carried himself with a predator’s confidence, lips curling faintly as if mocking the scene before him. On the right, Ci Xue’s face was calm, his eyes glinting like cold blades.
Their appearance was silent, but the spirit power aura that rolled off them crushed the air, a pressure so intense that even the murmuring crowd instinctively quieted, shuffling backward
She Long saw the crowd gathering and Tai Tan at the front, his expression twisting into annoyance. With a scoff he said, loud enough for the crowd to hear,
"Why is there an attraction about a human-shaped orangutan here?"
Several people in the crowd covered their mouths, some laughed nervously, while others widened their eyes. Tai Tan’s face flushed crimson, veins bulging on his thick neck. He wanted to charge forward and rip She Long apart, but he restrained himself.
A frontal clash was not his aim today—he wanted to humiliate Spirit Hall, not get himself killed by hidden experts.
Grinding his teeth, he suppressed his fury and barked in a booming voice that echoed down the street,
"Spirit Hall! How dare you renege on the money for the hard work of the Blacksmiths!"
Ci Xue, who had been calmly standing beside She Long, stepped forward with his cold, blade-like gaze sweeping across the crowd. His voice was neither loud nor soft, but it carried clearly to every ear:
"You know I can have your tongue cut out for trying to defame Spirit Hall with baseless words."
The pressure in his tone was heavy, like the slow crushing of a mountain. Several bystanders instinctively shrank back, but Tai Tan stood firm, his massive body unmoving like a fortress.
‘Good,’ Tai Tan sneered inwardly, ‘If you strike me here, your so-called prestige will collapse. Even if you kill me, the Clear Sky Clan will have its excuse to openly war with you. Let’s see how far your Spirit Hall’s reach can extend then.’
He raised his voice once more, even louder this time, deliberately letting his soul power vibrate the air so that it rolled like thunder through the streets:
"Huh! Did I say anything wrong? The Blacksmiths who laboured day and night, hammering steel until their palms bled, did not receive the compensation of coin they were promised! Spirit Hall eats the fruit of their work and leaves them starving. Tell me, is that just?"
The crowd erupted in murmurs.
"Yes! My brother was among those who forged the shipment last month—he hasn’t seen a single copper coin!" one man shouted.
"My cousin also worked! He said Spirit Hall has not paid anything,—but how long can a family wait for bread?" another cried.
An old blacksmith stepped forward, his back bent but his eyes fiery. His hands were covered in calluses and burns. He lifted them high for all to see.
"These hands have hammered iron for fifty years. Never once did I think the Spirit Hall would cheat us like a common merchant!"
The grumbling turned into chants, the crowd feeding on each other’s anger. "Pay the blacksmiths! Pay the blacksmiths!" The voices rose like waves crashing against stone.
She Long’s expression darkened. He hadn’t expected Tai Tan’s provocation to find such fertile soil. Ci Xue narrowed his eyes, his sharp gaze darting briefly toward the Spirit Hall branch gates.
If this uproar continued, it would not only stain Bishop Robert’s local authority, but also put a stain on Spirit hall’s reputation..
It seemed as if a riot would erupt any moment. She Long’s veins bulged as he readied himself, soul power surging in faint ripples, prepared to shut Tai Tan up by force.
But then—
"Uncle She Long, Bishop Robert will be arriving soon. As the Bishop of Spirit Hall here, let him handle it."