The Zhao Clan estate stood silent under the pale moonlight, the air thick with tension. Elite guards moved swiftly through the outer walls, positioning themselves in strategic locations under Zhao Wei's command. The approaching forces had yet to be seen, but their presence was undeniable.
Zhao Tian stood atop the clan's watchtower, his sharp gaze fixed on the northern ridge. His daughter stood beside him, her grip on her sleeping child firm. "They are coming," she murmured.
He nodded. "And they are walking into a trap."
A whistle cut through the night, followed by the shimmer of steel as a volley of hidden projectiles rained down upon the advancing figures. The would-be intruders barely had time to react before Zhao warriors emerged from the shadows, engaging them in close combat.
Zhao Wei moved like a phantom, his sword slicing through the air with lethal precision. He parried an assassin's dagger, twisting his blade to disarm the attacker before delivering a crushing kick that sent the man sprawling. "This is all they brought? I expected more," he sneered.
But his confidence was short-lived. A deep, guttural chant filled the air, and suddenly, the temperature plummeted. From the darkness, cloaked figures emerged, their hands crackling with eerie blue energy. "Formation!" Zhao Wei barked, recognizing the danger.
The clan guards tightened their ranks as a wave of ethereal force shot toward them. Some barely managed to dodge, while others were flung back, their bodies convulsing from the impact.
Zhao Tian's expression hardened. "They have spiritual cultivators. This is no ordinary raid."
His daughter's eyes narrowed. "They were sent to take him at any cost."
Before Zhao Tian could respond, an explosion rocked the outer wall, sending stone and debris flying. Through the dust, a figure stepped forward—a towering man clad in dark robes, his presence exuding raw menace. His voice echoed through the battlefield. "Hand over the child, and your clan will be spared."
Zhao Wei spat to the side. "Bold words from a dead man."
The man chuckled. "Foolish pride. Do you truly think your little warriors can stop me?"
Without warning, he struck. Moving at inhuman speed, he closed the gap between himself and Zhao Wei, his palm surging with dark qi. Zhao Wei barely managed to raise his blade before he was blasted backward, crashing into the courtyard steps.
Zhao Tian descended from the watchtower, his aura flaring to life. "I had hoped to avoid bloodshed tonight. But since you insist—"
With a single motion, he unsheathed his blade. The night itself seemed to tremble as Zhao Tian's qi flooded the battlefield.
The battle for the child had truly begun.