"If it weren’t for his deep experience and the fact that he cos from the family of Your Highness’s samurai..."
Huitu Puapu pondered silently. Taking a dozen trusted aides was hardly different from going alone. He thought for a mont, then asked.
"What did the old general say?"
"The old man told to divide our forces to suppress the disorder in the city, then control the streets and prohibit civilians from passing. I left fifteen hundred n to quell the unrest in the city and ca here directly with five hundred trusted aides."
"Are the five hundred xica samurai still at the Temple Pyramid?"
"They were still there when I left."
"Hmm."
Puapu silently nodded his head. It seed General Etalik also had suspicions about them. The assassination by Guramo put all commanders from the Prepetcha lineage in an awkward position. His and Oorta’s repeated contacts with Guramo added another layer of embarrassnt, even danger.
"Damn! Oorta, you’ve really screwed over!"
Thinking this, Puapu cursed softly.
"The secret letter might have been taken by Guramo!"
"Ah!"
Oorta tensed up, instinctively clutching the short dagger at his waist.
While the two were agonizing over this, suddenly a trusted aide ca from the grand hall and reported.
"Deputy Head, we have interrogated Guramo’s trusted servant, who says Guramo has a secret chamber!"
"Hmm?"
"Let’s go!"
Hearing this, their eyes lit up. They almost simultaneously shouted.
"Lead the way!"
Everyone, carrying torches, followed the trembling servant to the family storeroom behind the grand hall. The storeroom had many rooms, one of which was filled with unknown herbs and jars. The servant walked to the back of the room, pushed a wooden table aside, and pointed to a floorboard below.
"Sir, it’s below here."
Oorta scoffed at the so-called "secret chamber" which had nearly no secretive asures, but rely a cool cellar. He directly lifted the plank, and imdiately, a pungent sll of herbs mixed with a strong stench of blood rushed to their noses.
Puapu’s expression turned stern, gripping the long dagger at his waist. He signaled to his trusted aides, and so carried torches and cautiously entered the cellar. Then, a series of low exclaims arose from the front.
"Ah!"
"What is this?"
"Chief Divine!..."
Puapu patiently waited until one of the trusted aides returned.
"Vice Legion Commander, there’s no danger ahead, just an odd... earthen wall?"
"Hmm?"
Puapu glanced at Oorta, then took the lead into the cellar. The cellar was not deep, cool and dry. As they went deeper, the sll of blood grew stronger, dizzying them. Soon, the group reached the deepest part where a vast underground room appeared before them.
"... Guramo, that disgusting snake! Warriors collect the heads of mighty samurai to build skull walls, to display their martial prowess! And he collects so many won’s heads, preserving them with herbs, what a disgusting coward!"
Puapu spat disdainfully. Oorta shivered.
Before them stood an earthen wall about seven or eight ters long and two ters high. The wall had holes the size of human heads. Inside each hole, the heads of young won were neatly preserved with preservative herbs. Most of them had long hair, their skin dry and pale, their expressions still discernible. So showed terror, so fear, so despair, so relief, and so even a smile.
At this mont, the entire wall was adorned with over a hundred heads, all with hollow, eerily staring eyes. Beside the heads on the wall, there were finely detailed pictographic notations that seed to be evaluations of the collection.
If Xiulote had been standing there, examining closely, he could have recognized a withered head in the center. It bore a smile of relief, and its features bore a slight resemblance to dina. Next to it, there was a regretful smile etched into the annotation.
Historically, such below-ground or semi-subterranean structures were called "skull walls," a tradition passed down since the Teotihuacan Period, usually built beneath ancient temples. The skulls themselves recorded the achievents of their creators and also symbolized sacrifices to the gods. This reverence for death was deeply rooted in the hearts of all parts of Central Arica, just like the later Day of the Dead.
"Tch, what a waste of ti!"
Puap looked for a mont, confirming that this was rely a skull chamber. Unable to contain his anger, he grabbed a servant from the floor and swung his Long Dagger with force, adding a fresh crimson to the chamber.
The crowd erged from the cellar and returned to the manor. After the chaos, the samurai who had gone to search by the lake had returned. They had found neither boats nor people, returning without success.
"Puap, what do we do now? Do we continue the interrogation?"
Oorta looked worried, vaguely fearful.
"Continue the interrogation? The Imperial Guard Legion is on its way south; we don’t have ti!"
Saying this, Puap’s eyes turned cold, and murder boiled in his chest.
"His Majesty said we need to sacrifice the Zicao Family! So, let’s kill all the mbers of the Zicao Clan, then set the whole manor ablaze! After all, none of the Zicao Family are innocent; they’re all rotten wood of the kingdom... If the confidential letters are still in the manor, it will all be resolved."
"Ah? What if the confidential letters are still in Guramo’s hands? Wouldn’t we be at his rcy?..."
"Hmm... The only way now is to confess our sins to His Majesty!"
Puap furrowed his brow, pondering for a mont. Recalling the reasoning an old militia had spoken after drinking, he finally spoke decisively.
"Since we can’t find the letters, we can only confess! There was nothing in those letters anyway, just... just so hypotheses that wouldn’t co true."
"The old man said, where in the world is there loyalty solid as stone? It’s all loyalty like a tree. As long as His Majesty reigns supre, that tree lives. Every branch, every leaf, is loyal! It lives if he wishes it so, and dies if he wills it. But if His Majesty never returns from the northern campaign, that tree dies. The loyalty rots, the wood decays. Then, not just us but even the most loyal Ezpan will choose to rebel against the Alliance!..."
"His Majesty, graced with Divine Revelation, is a king who can see far. We are useful to His Majesty as long as we sincerely admit our guilt, even if we face so punishnt, we still have a chance!"
Oorta thought for a mont, then helplessly nodded.
"It’s our only choice now! Alas!"
The two sighed, gave a few instructions to their trusted aides, and fell silent. Soon, desperate cries rose sharply, then abruptly ceased. The Prepetcha samurai quickly looted so valuables, then set the stone and timber houses on fire.
With the wind aiding the flas, in just two quarters of an hour, the vast Zicao Manor was engulfed in a roaring fire! Trees were burning, flowers were burning, buildings were burning, even bodies were burning.
A family of glorious heritage that had lasted over two hundred years was thus destroyed! All past glories, all past sins, turned to ashes in the great fire, subsequently scattering in the wind. Outside the manor, the towering Zicao deadwood trees caught fire, blazing from the base to the top, like a row of twenty-sothing-ter-high torches, shimring in the dim night.
"Puap! Oorta!..."
Atoyac Lake reflected the distant glow of the fire. Guramo stood on a canoe, with just a few people by his side. His heart was filled with imnse pain, his face twisted like a snake’s, and tears of regret fell heavily, then turned into venom of hatred, deeply buried in his heart. After a while, he wiped away his tears and spoke softly but firmly to those around him.
"What are you crying for?! As long as we are alive, our family lives. Let’s go!"
"Father, where are we going?"
One young noble trembled, asking in a low voice.
Guramo did not speak. He reached deep into his robe, carefully pulling out a Jade Talisman. This was from a visitor from afar during the King’s northern campaign, which he never thought he would need. Yet, it turned out to be his last resort... it was unclear what fate awaited him.
"Row to the East!"
Guramo glanced at the mysterious symbol on the Jade Talisman and said coldly. Then, clutching the Jade Talisman tightly, he turned away, took one last look at the burning manor, and boarded the canoe. On the front of the Jade Talisman was engraved a hummingbird in the sun, and on the back, surprisingly, a small square Han character, "secret."
The night was vast, the fire bright. At the sa ti, Etalik stood to the south of the Great Temple, the last battlefield where the Zicao samurai fell. He furrowed his brow, staring at a body in front of him, lost in thought.
The body wore a smile, next to it was a stripped Copper Armor, and above the armor, lay a blood-soaked leather bag. This bag, found inside the copper armor of the deceased, was well-preserved. Upon examining it, there were... two confidential letters!
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