Chapter 11599 — Laughter and Cheers Once More Fill the Hall

When all was said and done, Wei Zhao might have cut a formidable figure of late, having single-handedly pieced together the Coalition Alliance and enjoyed a spell of unmatched prominence, but in the eyes of men like these he was still nothing more than a small fry.

Luck had lent him momentum for a time, and that was the only reason he had been able to ride the wind and rise.

But a rootless duckweed like him—once the wind passed, would at once show its lowly true form.

A lucky upstart like Wei Zhao should count himself fortunate to carve out a mid-level place in the Inner Royal Court; strength, in the end, was the only hard truth.

Ren Xuande had no words to answer.

It was not that he lacked a rebuttal, but that he knew full well that matters had come to this pass, and that nothing he said now would make any difference.

Just then the steward in charge of security hurried in and reported to the assembly, "Bad news, my lords of the council—someone has broken in!"

The whole gathering froze at once. "What?"

Their bafflement was hardly surprising; ever since the Night Central Palace had grown into a real power, its prestige had stood at its zenith.

Never mind someone breaking down their gate—ordinary folk had to weigh their words carefully even before muttering a few curses behind their backs.

The Inner Royal Court by day, the Night Central Palace by night.

That saying was no idle boast.

Wang Lai snorted with laughter. "Who is it? Who's so blind as to come knocking at this hour looking for death?"

The security steward glanced cautiously at the assembled men, then, with a strange look on his face, spoke two words.

"Wei Zhao."

The hall fell instantly silent.

Ren Xuande rose abruptly to his feet. "We're finished."

Wang Lai, however, burst out laughing. "Finished, my ass! Ren Xuande, don't tell me you're up to your old tricks of spreading alarmist talk again? Even if Wei Zhao begs on bended knee to every grandparent and grandmother he can find, how many men could he possibly muster?"

The hearts of the council members, which had just leapt into their throats, settled back down at once.

For today's gathering, nearly the entire elite security force of the Night Central Palace was assembled here; unless Wei Zhao could persuade the Coalition Alliance to send troops alongside him, he posed no threat to them whatsoever.

And the Coalition Alliance, with the Prince of Qi's estate at its head, had long made its stance on this matter abundantly clear.

There was simply no chance they would stick their necks out for Wei Zhao.

Wang Lai asked, "How many men did they bring?"

The security steward replied, "Two."

The hall erupted in roars of laughter.

"Two nobodies dare to storm my Night Central Palace? I truly cannot decide whether to praise their nerve or call them fools!"

Wang Lai gave a derisive snort and shot Ren Xuande a mocking glance. "So this is the great doom, the lowest of the low, that you divined?"

Ren Xuande made no reply.

Truth be told, he was baffled as well.

He had absolute faith in the fortunes he cast, and he was utterly certain that Wei Zhao's visit this time would bring the Night Central Palace down in ruin.

But to say that two men alone could take the Night Central Palace—that was far too fantastical.

He knew the strength of the Night Central Palace quite well.

Even without outside help like Xiang Zigui, the Palace's own power was already no small thing.

Could it be that Wei Zhao's move was merely a feint?

Seeing Ren Xuande choked into silence, Wang Lai curled his lips in satisfaction and swept his hand broadly. "Summon the Twelve Guardian Halls. We shall all go watch this clown together and study closely how a man kicks down another's door."

Under his lead the assembled directors burst out laughing and poured out the door.

Not a trace of tension showed on their faces; every one wore the mocking look of men settling in to watch a fine show.

Yet when they reached the main gate, the sight before them made them all start in unison.

Wei Zhao had not taken the field himself. He stood behind with his arms folded, his face expressionless.

Blocking the gate was a tall man of savage bearing, hands stuffed in his pockets, rolling his neck with utter indifference.

Before him lay a full hundred corpses or more—all of them elite guards of the Night Central Palace.

Ren Xuande turned his head aside, unable to bear the sight.

Wang Lai and the others, watching this scene, all felt their hearts miss a beat.

True, those before them were only gatekeepers, not the Palace's true core fighting force. Even if every last one of them died, it would not pain them; they need only spend a little more fortune to hire a fresh batch.

But the trouble was that even gatekeepers though they were, these men were by no means mediocre hands.

One man had taken them all on alone.

Such a thing was not impossible, but to accomplish it one would have to be at least a top-tier sovereign-power expert—and not an ordinary one at that, but one of those few who could be called the face of their generation.

Yet this man before them—they had never even laid eyes on him.

Simply standing there, the tangible baleful aura radiating from his body left everyone present collectively gasping for breath.

Since when had a figure like this arisen in the Inner Royal Court?

Wang Lai turned to look back at Wei Zhao, his face a mask of confusion and alarm. Where on earth had he dug up this backer?

Had Wei Zhao guessed what he was thinking, he would not have known whether to laugh or cry.

Since when had Wei Baizhan become his backer?

Wei Baizhan reached up and rolled his neck, the bones cracking and popping in a long volley, then glanced sidelong at the assembled men of the Night Central Palace. "Whose turn is it next? Hurry it up, my boss is still waiting."

Another wave of uproar swept the hall.

Wei Zhao was his boss?

Wang Lai forced down the shock in his heart and shot a look at Xiang Feng beside him.

Xiang Feng gave a low laugh, worked his limbs in the same fashion, and stepped out from the crowd, coming to a halt five meters in front of Wei Baizhan.

He was the strongest fighter at Wang Lai's side, a man whose strength did not lose out even to the top-tier champions of royal authority. In this moment, Wang Lai could rely on no one but him to win back his face.

"You—"

Xiang Feng was all set to spit out a few taunts, but he got no further than half a syllable before a colossal force struck him full in the face and sent him flying backward, punching a man-shaped hole clean through the Night Central Palace's three-meter-thick wall.

His features were battered beyond recognition, his breath utterly gone.

Wei Baizhan bared his teeth in careless indifference. "Next."

A deathly silence fell over the hall.

They all knew Xiang Feng's strength well enough. Among the Night Central Palace's core elite, even if he could not rank in the top five, he could at the very least rank in the top ten.

And before this man he could not even survive a single exchange?

For a moment, many of them found themselves instinctively wondering whether they had fallen under some illusion.

There was simply no other way to explain it.

Yet the ferocious pressure bearing down on them now reminded them at every instant that this was the cruelest reality.

Someone could not help but look toward Ren Xuande.

In a scene like this, could it be that the Great Misfortune's worst-of-the-worst fortune slip was truly about to be fulfilled?

Wang Lai, naturally, refused to believe it. He bellowed at once, "The Twelve Palaces of the Temple Guard! Where the hell have the men of the Twelve Palaces gone? Get out here and do your work!"

"Coming, boss."

A lazy voice answered.

A host of figures, tall and short, fat and lean, came into view.

No more, no less—exactly twelve of them.

These were the Night Central Palace's true trump card, its ultimate fighting force.