Anyway, not just the opposition but those involved in their own affairs were also troubled by the turmoil. In addition, the northern domain itself was disturbed and restless.
After the domain authority became aware of the turmoil, the sect became proactive upon receiving this information.
The Beiming Palace, which was taken over by Lord Xue Baitian, was suddenly surprised by the incident.
Sitting on the throne, he jolted upright, his face paling as the rumors reached his ears.
"What?! The outbound market turned into bloodshed? Who is responsible for this trouble?"
He slammed his fist on the armrest, his voice echoing through the hall with barely contained fury.
The expectation was already known; the outcome must initiate a call-out war, seemingly between the domains. There would never be an exception. Both domains had harbored deep grudges for more than three centuries.
If so, what could they expect? Eventually, it would end in a bloody war.
The old man pressed his fingers to his temples, rubbing them deliberately as his weathered face creased with distress.
"Where is the Young Master?" he asked, his voice heavy with concern.
"Palace Lord, the Young Master has his hands full. Possibly, he has already received the rumor."
Drawing a deep breath, the old man managed only the slightest nod, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the news.
Meanwhile, a sequence of footsteps echoed towards the hall. Xue Wuya himself led the group, striding forward with purpose, his underlings following close behind.
Almost forgot to mention, Princess Lan Qinwe joined the cluster, her silk robes whispering against the stone floor.
All of them greeted the Palace Lord first in a respectful manner, bowing deeply without a trace of discomfort.
"Finally, you're here." Palace Lord Baitian straightened in his seat, his sharp gaze settling on his son.
"Father, permit me to leave at once." Xue Wuya stepped forward, his jaw set with determination. "These guards and more are outside preparing for departure. We need to head towards the outbound location right away. We will investigate the area and assess the casualties."
Without hesitation, Palace Lord Xue Baitian gave a firm approval, his hand cutting through the air in a decisive gesture.
"Go."
Still, the Outbound Market was Beiming territory. Whatever the incident today, all the accounts must be charged to the main sect. The responsibility fell squarely on their shoulders.
Not to mention, there was no refuge in the outbound location—the place was known as contested ground between the central and northern domains.
People who lived on the border of the rival territories resided in this precarious place, caught between two powers.
Occasionally, turmoil would erupt, skirmishes and heated disputes, but nothing had ever descended into the dead bloodshed witnessed today.
To diminish the chaos, the Beiming sect was the one who had made adjustments for the sake of the people living there, establishing order where there had been none.
Unexpectedly, after years of relative peace, this was the first tragedy to occur in such a devastating manner and in such a short period of time.
Irrefutable!
The blood spilled today would demand answers—and possibly, retribution.
Young Master Xue Wuya was about to leave upon confirming the approval of Palace Lord Xue Baitian, when a mess of noise erupted outside the hall—shouts, clattering footsteps, and the clash of metal.
"What's going on?" Xue Wuya's hand instinctively moved to the hilt of his sword, his eyes narrowing toward the entrance.
Lan Qingwe, watching the Young Master's face darken with concern, also tensed, her fingers curling into her palms as unease rippled through her.
Unable to remain idle, Palace Lord Xue Baitian descended from his throne and strode forward to his son, his expression mirroring the same grave concern etched on Lan Qingwe's face.
"It would be better if we checked outside." Xue Wuya's voice was steady but edged with urgency, and his father nodded in agreement.
Together, they moved toward the hall entrance, the air thick with foreboding.
Outside, they reached the courtyard within a minute. They braced themselves for what chaos might await, but unexpectedly, the dark expression on Xue Wuya's face lifted the moment he saw what was there.
Surprisingly, it was his beloved pet—his spirit beast, Xuelang Lingzu. The magnificent creature stood in the courtyard, its white fur gleaming under the light. But its back was empty.
Xue Wuya's composure shattered. His eyes widened, and he stumbled forward, breaking into a run toward the beast.
"Li—Lingzu? You came back!" His voice cracked as he reached the spirit beast, his hands grasping its fur. "Where is Yu Xiao?" he stammered, desperation bleeding into every word.
All the guards, even Palace Lord Xue Baitian and Princess Lan Qingwe, exchanged uneasy glances.
As a spirit beast, Xuelang Lingzu could communicate with Xue Wuya in ways others couldn't perceive.
But judging by the Young Master's stricken expression and trembling hands, those present in the courtyard already understood—something was terribly wrong.
The beast lowered its head, a mournful sound rumbling from its throat.
Another set of footsteps echoed in the hallway nearby.
Guess who they were?
The Duan twin siblings burst into the courtyard, almost out of breath from running to deliver their report.
Xue Wuya turned toward them as they rushed to his side, their faces etched with worry. He expected that they would ask him about their master.
Not being surprised, they did. Duan Han Yun asked him first, her voice tight with barely restrained panic.
"Young Master, our Lady—is she safe?"
Duan Han Qing followed immediately, her voice trembling, more nervous than Han Yun. She clasped her hands together, knuckles white.
"We received news from everywhere. Since Xuelang Lingzu has returned alone..." She hesitated, her breath catching. "We're hoping the Young Lady is well and safe."
Xue Wuya's jaw clenched, his gaze dropping to the ground.
The silence that followed was answer enough.
His hands tightened into fists at his sides, and when he finally looked up at the twins, the anguish in his eyes made their hearts sink.
It was as if they'd been struck by a heavy blow after hearing the Young Master's response.
Han Yun and Han Qing's eyes turned red, glistening with disbelief.
The unease welling up inside them almost brought them to tears, their lips trembling as they struggled to maintain composure.
But this was not the end.
Xuelang Lingzu whimpered continuously, its mournful cries filling the courtyard as it pressed its massive head against Xue Wuya's chest, delivering its message with desperate urgency.
Xue Wuya's expression shifted as he caught the information, his hand stilling on the beast's fur. His eyes widened, then narrowed with fierce concentration as he listened to what only he could hear.
If Xuelang Lingzu were human and could speak, it would have delivered the message to everyone surrounding them.
But the spirit beast's message could only be fully understood by its own master. Through their bond, it told him directly—the Young Lady was still alive, but she was hurt, gravely injured.
Xue Wuya's face went pale, his breath catching in his throat.
"She's alive," he whispered, his voice barely audible. Then louder, urgent: "She's alive—but badly wounded."
The courtyard erupted into motion.
"How can she be gravely injured?" Han Yun murmured, her voice hollow as she stared blankly ahead, almost spacing out.
Han Qing's lips parted, but no words came. Her hands trembled at her sides, tears finally spilling down her cheeks as the weight of the news crashed over her.
"Where is Yu Xiao? Lingzu, tell me—we will bring her home." Xue Wuya's voice cracked with desperation as he gripped the spirit beast's fur tighter, his forehead pressing against its neck. "Tell me where she is!"
Lan Qingwe stood off to the side, watching Xue Wuya's frantic actions.
This time, it was unmistakably clear—Xue Wuya cared about Yu Xiao above all else.
His desperation, his anguish, the way he clung to his spirit beast—it all spoke of a devotion she could never compete with.
In this moment, she had nothing to do, nothing to say. She could only stand there, swallowing the sharp pain that pierced her heart, her hands clenching into her robes.
Finally, Palace Lord Xue Baitian spoke up, breaking the silence that had stretched for several minutes. His voice was firm, cutting through the chaos.
"Wuya." The Young Master's head snapped up. "The Young Lady is alive—that means there is still hope. You must survey the outbound location first. Xuelang Lingzu has informed you of her condition, but the situation there affects countless lives. Set your priorities accordingly."
Xue Wuya's jaw tightened, conflict warring across his face.
"Alright, Father." Xue Wuya's voice was steady now, though strained. He turned back to his spirit beast, his hand resting on its head as he spoke with quiet urgency. "Lingzu, lead us to the outbound location first. We need to resolve the crisis there." His grip tightened, his voice dropping to a fierce whisper. "After we settle the turmoil, bring us to the Young Lady before it's too late."
Xuelang Lingzu whimpered once more, a low, rumbling sound of acknowledgment, and then Xue Wuya's shoulders finally relaxed, if only slightly. The beast understood.
Without wasting another moment, Xue Wuya made an announcement for immediate departure to resolve the turmoil at the outbound location.
In just half an hour, all the guards and highly skilled warriors were assembled and equipped, standing in formation.
Their faces were grim, steeled, and ready to face whatever consequences awaited them.
The Duan siblings joined the main group led by Young Master Xue Wuya and Princess Lan Qingwe.
Together, they departed from the Beiming Palace courtyard, a formidable force moving as one.
Everyone headed toward the borders, employing various methods of travel.
Some cultivators of the Beiming sect used teleportation techniques, vanishing in flashes of light to reach the destination in mere moments.
Others traveled on horseback or atop their spirit beasts, thundering across the landscape.
And lastly, a contingent of warriors passed through a secret magical passage—a shimmering portal constructed specifically to transport the massive cluster of fighters swiftly and discreetly.
The mission had begun.