DLERB -Chapter 104 With One Slash of My Blade, Even Confucius Won’t Be Able to Save You!

“Do not close your eyes.”

Ying Ziye’s voice sounded childish.

But those four words were like nails hammered straight into Fusu’s ears.

Dragged by the collar, he stumbled forward.

Beneath his feet was mud soaked through with blood.

Every step produced a wet squelch.

That was the sound of blood mixed with crushed organs being trampled underfoot.

“Look at this.”

Ying Ziye suddenly stopped.

He pointed at a corpse by the roadside.

It was a young laborer.

His head was gone.

The broken neck was jagged and uneven, as though smashed apart by some blunt weapon.

Yet even in death, his hand still tightly gripped a stone used for defending the city.

“Recognize him?”

Ying Ziye asked.

Fusu trembled all over.

He wanted to turn his head away.

Did not want to look.

Truly did not want to look.

“I told you to look!”

Ying Ziye violently yanked his collar, forcing Fusu’s face toward the headless corpse.

Less than half a foot away.

That overpowering stench of blood and rot rushed straight into his head.

“His name was Ergou.”

“Yesterday he was still bringing you meals and asking if you could help write a letter home.”

“You said yes. You even said you’d teach him how to read.”

Ying Ziye let out a cold laugh.

“Well, that worked out nicely.”

“Now his head’s gone. What the hell is he supposed to read with?”

“BLEEEGH!!”

Fusu could not endure it any longer.

He shoved Ying Ziye away and threw himself beside a wall.

His stomach twisted violently, as though a hand were wringing it from inside.

Yellow bile mixed with his breakfast poured onto the ground in a miserable stream.

He vomited until tears and snot covered his face.

His entire body convulsed.

Ying Zheng stood not far away, holding the blood-dripping Taia Sword in his arms.

Watching coldly.

Without saying a word.

Nor did he order anyone to help.

“Finished vomiting?”

Ying Ziye stood behind Fusu and handed him a cloth.

Not for wiping his mouth.

It had been torn from the dead laborer’s clothing and was still stained with blood.

“When you’re done, keep walking.”

“This is barely the beginning.”

Ying Ziye was like an emotionless King of Hell.

Dragging Fusu along like a dead dog, he continued forward.

The alley ahead—

Was even worse.

A woman lay in a pool of blood.

Her clothes were in disarray.

Three or four broken arrows protruded from her body.

And not far from her, nailed to a wooden post—

Was an infant.

Only a few months old.

A spear had pierced straight through that tiny body, pinning it to the wood.

The baby’s eyes were still open.

As though accusing the world itself.

“AAAAAH!!”

Fusu let out a shrill scream.

His legs gave way, and he collapsed onto the ground.

Crawling backward with both hands and feet.

“Why… why would this happen…”

“They were civilians!”

“The Xiongnu are human too! How could they commit such cruelty?!”

Fusu completely broke down.

This was nothing like what he had learned from books.

The books said human nature was inherently good.

The books said barbarians could be civilized through courtesy and virtue.

But this scene before him—

Contained only beastliness.

Where was humanity?

“Because you were too slow.”

Ying Ziye walked to the wooden post.

He gently reached out and closed the baby’s eyes.

Then turned around.

The expression on his face was colder than the corpses scattered across the ground.

“When the Xiongnu broke into this alley, what were you doing?”

“You were hesitating on the city wall.”

“You were wondering whether shooting arrows would anger them, whether it would destroy any chance of peace talks.”

Ying Ziye walked toward Fusu step by step.

Looking down at him from above.

“Because you delayed your order by a single quarter of an hour—”

“This child died.”

“This woman died.”

“All one hundred and thirty-six people in this alley died.”

“The ones who killed them were not the Xiongnu blades.”

“It was you.”

“It was your ridiculous, hypocritical, worthless benevolence!”

Every single word—

Was like a knife.

Driven viciously into Fusu’s heart.

Then twisted again.

“N-No… not me…”

Fusu clutched his head and buried his face into his knees.

“I didn’t want this…”

“I really didn’t…”

“Get up.”

Ying Ziye gave him no chance to escape.

He yanked him upright once more.

“Come see one last person.”

The two crossed half the city.

Eventually arriving at a temporary morgue.

Corpses were piled everywhere.

But in the center stood a crude stretcher.

Lying upon it was a middle-aged officer.

Covered in blood.

His body was densely packed with arrows.

Like a human hedgehog.

The fatal arrow had pierced directly through his forehead.

The moment Fusu saw him—

It was as if all the bones had been pulled from his body.

“Deputy… Deputy General Wang…”

He dropped to his knees with a thud.

His hand trembled as he tried to touch that blood-covered face.

Yet he did not dare.

This was his deputy general.

The man who had remained by his side these past two weeks, desperately urging him to go out and fight.

“Just half an hour ago.”

Ying Ziye’s voice sounded quietly beside him.

“The city gate was breached.”

“A cold arrow was fired at you.”

“What were you doing then?”

“Oh, right.”

“You were reciting that damned Analects.”

“You were praying for the sages to protect you.”

Ying Ziye pointed at Deputy General Wang’s eyes, still wide open in death.

“He blocked that arrow for you.”

“And the other hundred and eight arrows in his body.”

“He took every one of them for you.”

Tears streamed from Fusu’s eyes like beads from a broken string.

The tears smashed against Deputy General Wang’s cold armor.

“I failed you…”

“Old Wang… I’m the one who killed you…”

“I want to ask you something.”

Ying Ziye crouched down.

Looking at the sobbing Fusu.

“When that arrow flew toward you…”

“When your Deputy General Wang was turned into a human pincushion…”

“What were you thinking about?”

“Confucius’s teachings?”

“The bonds of ruler, parent, and teacher?”

“Or…”

Ying Ziye leaned close to Fusu’s ear.

His voice was soft.

But venomous.

“Were you thinking about how to slaughter every last one of those beasts?”

Fusu froze.

He stopped crying.

Staring blankly at the arrow embedded in Deputy General Wang’s forehead.

At that moment—

There had been no sages in his mind.

No writings.

Only hatred.

Overwhelming hatred.

“I was wrong…”

Fusu slammed his forehead heavily against the ground.

Blood immediately began flowing.

“I was wrong!”

“I was stubborn! I was incompetent!”

“I am a sinner of Great Qin!!”

His cries echoed miserably throughout the morgue.

Ying Zheng stood at the entrance.

Watching the scene unfold.

The tightly furrowed brows on his face relaxed slightly.

Good.

At least he could still feel pain.

If he were still spouting benevolence and morality at a time like this—

Then this son would truly be beyond saving.

Just then—

A burst of noisy footsteps came from outside the door.

“Your Highness! Your Highness, where are you?!”

Several old men in Confucian robes stumbled inside.

Their clothes were surprisingly clean.

Obviously they had hidden in the rear the entire time, too frightened to show themselves.

Now that the battle was over—

They had finally come out.

The elderly scholar leading them was shocked upon seeing Fusu kneeling on the ground.

“Oh heavens! Young Master!”

“What are you doing?”

“How can all this filth defile your noble body?”

The old scholar moved as if to help Fusu up.

But then he noticed Ying Ziye standing nearby.

And the corpses covering the ground.

The scholar frowned.

His face filled with righteous indignation.

“This goes against the harmony of Heaven! Completely against the harmony of Heaven!”

“This battle was fought far too brutally!”

“Ninth Prince, this is where you were wrong.”

The old scholar pointed at Ying Ziye, saliva flying everywhere.

“Even if you won, you slaughtered far too many people.”

“And now you’re building a mound of skulls outside the city gates.”

“This is barbaric!”

“The sages said: ‘To kill those who surrender is inauspicious.’”

“What you are doing will damage Great Qin’s virtue!”

The other Confucian scholars quickly chimed in.

“Yes, yes.”

“Far too cruel.”

“You should release those Xiongnu captives and reform them through virtue. That is the true kingly path.”

“And those explosions earlier terrified the citizens inside the city. That is a sin as well.”

These people—

Stood amidst the corpses of Qin soldiers.

Stood upon land where blood flowed like rivers.

And criticized the people who had just saved their lives—

For being too cruel.

Ying Ziye laughed.

A laugh born from sheer anger.

He ignored the old fools entirely.

Instead, he bent down.

And picked up a blade from the ground.

It was a Xiongnu curved saber.

Still stained with Deputy General Wang’s blood.

Clang!

Ying Ziye threw the saber in front of Fusu.

The blade struck the stone floor, scattering sparks.

“Big Brother.”

Ying Ziye pointed at the scholars still chattering endlessly.

“Hear that?”

“They’re teaching you how to be a proper person.”

“They’re saying Deputy General Wang died for nothing.”

“They’re saying all the citizens in this city died for nothing.”

“They think we should never have fought this battle at all.”

“They think we should’ve knelt down and begged the Xiongnu not to kill anyone.”

A terrifying chill seeped into Ying Ziye’s voice.

“These rotten scholars hid in latrine pits when the Xiongnu arrived, too scared to come out.”

“Now that everything’s safe…”

“They come running out to lecture everyone about ruling the world.”

“Doesn’t hearing that disgust you?”

Fusu stared at the saber lying on the ground.

Despite the chip along its edge, the blade was still sharp.

It reflected his face—

Covered in tears and blood.

The scholars continued shouting.

“Your Highness, say something!”

“You are a benevolent and righteous gentleman! You cannot allow the Ninth Prince to stray down the wrong path!”

“You must immediately order the skull mound dismantled and apologize to the Xiongnu—”

“It doesn’t disgust me.”

Fusu suddenly spoke.

His voice was hoarse.

Emotionless.

He slowly reached out.

That slender, pale hand accustomed to holding writing brushes—

Now—

Gripped that bloodstained curved saber tightly.

So tightly his knuckles turned white.

The veins on the back of his hand bulged one after another.

“Young Master?”

The old scholar froze.

Something about Fusu today felt terribly wrong.

“Young Master, that blade is a weapon of violence. It is improper for you to hold—”

Fusu ignored him.

Using his other hand to push against the ground—

He slowly stood up.

Very slowly.

Like a man carrying a thousand-pound burden finally straightening his back.

He raised his head.

Those eyes that had once been gentle as jade, filled with kindness and compassion—

Now—

Contained only darkness.

As though soaked completely in ink.

Or perhaps…

Like a vengeful ghost crawling out of hell itself.