Chapter 580: The True Storm

Inside the cave at the edge of Mang Mountain, it was damp and cold.

Chen Wen leaned against the stone wall, his eyes slightly closed, not resting.

But was exerting all his power to activate the profound and mysterious ability of "Script Reading".

The distance had closed to sixty li, plus the weak resonance of the new and old tallies with the two strong "momentum" nodes in the south.

This time, what he "saw" was far clearer than any previous time.

And it was even more heart-pounding.

In a daze, his consciousness seemed to be lifted, overlooking the land scorched by war.

Yingcheng was like a lone child sinking in a black mire, still struggling.

Yet it was already entwined by countless ferocious, thick black lines representing the Jin army, almost suffocating it.

And above the city, several icy, piercing golden "chains" hung, exuding a rich aura of bureaucratic decay.

They hung down from the horizon, continually tightening, binding the city's "trunk", and strangely cooperating with those black lines, jointly exerting pressure.

This scene was already perilous enough.

But more terrifying, within this inner-and-outer besieged desperate situation, inside Yingcheng's "Light Core" that represented Yue Fei and the Yue Family Army, still flickering stubbornly.

A few strands extremely fine yet filthy and viscous, dark red "silk threads".

Wriggling like living things, they were slowly "seeping poison" from within, attempting to contaminate and dissolve that mass of light.

This must be the "internal decay", either Wang Jun or other poisonous spikes buried by the Iron Crow Army.

However, these were not the focus of Chen Wen's "gaze" at this moment.

His "sight" was drawn by a vaster, more sinister force, passing beyond Yingcheng's range, heading further south, toward the direction of Lin'an.

Even toward some kind of… profound and unfathomable dimension transcending concrete geographical location.

There, boundless darkness surged.

At the dark core, vaguely was the outline of a building.

— with flying eaves and dougong brackets, its form resembled a pavilion, yet it was shrouded in a year-round unmelting bleak wind and snow phantom.

From the pavilion's corners hung bell-like chimes that seemed condensed from icicles, swaying silently.

Merely "seeing" this blurry outline, a bone-chilling cold and a feeling of tragic despair surged, almost freezing Chen Wen's body and soul.

"Fengbo… Pavilion…"

A name naturally surfaced in his heart.

This was not a name he knew, but the "Script Reading" ability, upon contacting this terrifying symbol condensed with immense "cause and effect" and "fixed trajectory", directly transmitted the "information" to him.

At the same time, countless fragmented images, sound shards, and dust of meaning erupted from that dark wind-snow pavilion, washing over his perception:

"……Groundless……"

"……The ruler demands the minister's death……"

"……Golden medal……twelve pieces……"

"……Confession……seal……"

"……Father and son……prison……"

……

The information was fragmented, full of suffering, injustice, and betrayal.

And beneath the phantom of the "Fengbo Pavilion", countless fine threads, coming from every corner of the Lin'an court, carrying private desires,

fear and malice's "volition" threads, like a hundred rivers returning to the sea, flowed into that darkness, becoming its nourishment, accelerating its solidification.

Moreover, there was a clear, thick "conduit" bearing the Iron Crow Army's distinctive yin-tainted aura.

It hung down from infinite heights, directly connecting to that dark core, as if injecting it with some more essential, more terrifying "authority" or "power".

A realization flashed across Chen Wen's mind:

The master of the Iron Crow Army is mobilizing some kind of authority surpassing ordinary intervention.

Using the Lin'an court's dread, malice, and fear of Yue Fei as a guide.

Using the "Fengbo Pavilion", a node symbol with special significance in history (or said "script"), as an anchor.

They are weaving and solidifying a final "outcome".

This is not a victory or defeat on the battlefield.

This is a "judgment" and "conclusion" at the level of fate.

What they want is not to defeat Yue Fei, but to, from the standpoint of "cause and effect",

nail him down upon this destined, tragic "node", completing the eradication of this greatest "variable".

A strong wave of dizziness and nausea surged; Chen Wen abruptly cut off the "Reading", his forehead instantly covered in cold sweat.

This "Reading" consumed enormously, and the information impact it brought was unprecedented.

"They……are preparing the final harvest……"

Chen Wen leaned against the cold stone wall, his fingers trembling slightly. That was not fear.

But an instinctive shudder when facing a vast, inhuman mechanism full of malice.

The master of the Iron Crow Army is no longer satisfied with merely manipulating pawns and applying pressure.

It is now employing a more fundamental "authority", attempting to directly let the heavy wheel of "history" roll over Yue Fei.

And also roll over any variables trying to block that wheel—including the Northward Aspiration Army, including him, Chen Wen.

The siege of Yingcheng, the imperial court's edict, internal betrayal—all are merely preludes.

The true killing move is that pavilion accelerating to solidify in the wind and snow, the gathering and triggering of the "collective evil volition", and the impending blade named "Fate" about to fall.

"We must do something……must interrupt this process……"

Chen Wen clenched his teeth, his thoughts racing.

But what can be done?

The long-range endowed medium is not yet optimal; having been used once on Yue Fei, forcing it again soon yields unknown effect and may incur unbearable cost.

Charge straight ahead? Sixty li out is the main battlefield of tens of thousands; his few troops are no different from moths flying into flame.

Warning via the token? That vague sensation can't even convey clear emotions, let alone such complex and terrifying information.

It seems... unsolvable.

A deep sense of helplessness, mixed with anxiety, clenched his heart.

He first clearly realized that the power of an individual or an army, before a world-rule-backed, targeted fate correction, is how minuscule.

Must we just watch helplessly?

At the same time.

Inside Yingcheng, Yue Fei, fully armored, made his final inspection of the Brave Army formation that was to serve as the vanguard.

The soldiers silently checked their final equipment, their gazes in the torchlight calm and resolute.

Yue Fei said little, just firmly patting the shoulders of a few veteran soldiers, and exchanged a look with Zhang Xian that said everything without words.

He knew the greatest test lay not in the breakout's charge, but after breaking out. The Imperial Court's edict, the hidden arrows behind, would not vanish just because they left Yingcheng.

But he had already made up his mind.

No matter what, first bring the brothers to survive.

At the mountain pass, Lin Chong hid behind the cold rocks, gazing down at the road below that glimmered faintly in the moonlight.

Over four hundred warriors silently lay in ambush on both sides, holding their breath and focusing.

They knew that in a few hours, this place would run red with blood.

They would use their own flesh and blood to pave a path of survival for their compatriots behind.

Yue Yun lay beside him, his young face no longer uneasy from the day, only a focused cold solemnity. He entrusted his father to Instructor Lin, and also staked his own life on this blockade.

Lin'an, the Qin mansion.

Qin Hui dismissed everyone, alone in the quiet room.

Before him lay a blank impeachment memorial, his brush already soaked in ink.

He was waiting.

Waiting for the latest news from Yingcheng, waiting for the shadow of the Wind-Wave Pavilion to completely envelop the name that kept him restless.

He felt an anticipation mixed with dread and excitement.

It seemed as if he were personally participating, driving the realization of some great, inevitable heavenly mandate.

And in that dimension transcending mundane perspective.

The intangible gaze of the Iron Crow Army's master coldly observed the chaos below the game board.

The struggle of Yingcheng, the intervention of the Northward Aspiration Army, Yue Fei's decision, Qin Hui's malice—in His view, were merely disturbances of variables in an established formula.

Accelerating the solidification of the Wind-Wave Pavilion node is a consumption, but also a necessary investment.

As long as this greatest historical anomaly is corrected and eliminated, the consumed authority will be replenished a hundredfold, and the trajectory of this script world will return to the right track.

As for those variables...

His thought flickered slightly, like an intangible tendril, sweeping over the northern light curtain bordering the Chen Dynasty, sweeping over Black Cloud Stronghold, finally falling upon the tiny figure at the edge of Mang Mountain attempting to probe the heavenly secrets.

'To probe... is to leave a trace.'

'A trace... can then be located.'

'Once the node settles...'

'Then we should... clean up the source.'

A soundless whisper echoed on the level of rules, bearing inhuman coldness and absoluteness.

Inside the cave, Chen Wen shuddered violently, not due to the cave's chill.

He felt a sudden, inexplicable, spine-tingling fright.

As if being glanced at faintly by some supreme, indifferent, unfeeling existence across endless void.

The new and old tokens in his sleeve simultaneously grew hot, emitting a fine yet sharp tremor, as if wailing and as if warning.

He gripped the token, lifted his head to gaze at the dark, starless, moonless night sky outside the cave.

The mountain rain is about to come.

And this rain, fearful, is not merely swords and blood fire.

Moreover, it is a heaven-earth overturning causal torrent, and the eradication of formless, traceless rules.

The true storm is only now beginning to gather the power sufficient to destroy everything.