Chapter 376

Chapter 376: Pulling and Pulling, I Won’t Let You Die

Zhang Yang noticed that Yan Chihuo and the others were all in a state of shock, their expressions filled with disbelief, as if they were about to explode in anger. Even the lowest-ranking prince’s guard had completely forgotten his role and stood dumbfounded like the rest.

“Gulp!”

Yan Chihuo swallowed hard, pointing at the unconscious bald man. “Zhang uh, Lord of the Sacred Forest, are you sure he is the Black Cloaked Strategist?”

Zhang Yang lifted the limp body and placed it in front of Yan Chihuo. “Take a good look.”

“I’ve never seen him before. No one in the Western Desert has ever seen the true face of the Black Cloaked Strategist,” Yan Chihuo replied.

“This guy is all smoke and mirrors,” Zhang Yang said as he lowered the man, still holding him with one hand. “He claims to be the Black Cloaked Strategist, wears a black cloak, and has some men with him. One of them was Wind Dragon, he says he’s one of the Nine Heroes of the Hunters’ Guild. He tried to kill me, so I took out five of them and captured this Black Cloaked Strategist. Wind Dragon ran off.”

Yan Chihuo stood stunned. “It was… that simple?”

“Yeah, just that simple.”

“Wait, he… he…” Yan Chihuo pointed at the Black Cloaked Strategist, momentarily speechless. After a long pause, he finally asked, “Could he be a fake?”

Zhang Yang shrugged.

He didn’t bother to argue.

Yan Chihuo quickly waved his hand. “I don’t think the Lord of the Sacred Forest can’t handle the Black Cloaked Strategist. But the Strategist is said to be like a god, the Western Desert trembles at his wrath. They say one of him is worth three hundred saints. How could someone like that be captured so easily? Even saints fear him!”

It was clear to Zhang Yang that the Black Cloaked Strategist had become a nightmare figure for the people of the Western Desert.

Even now, though he had truly been captured, they subconsciously refused to believe it. A figure of such renown wasn’t someone they could imagine being taken down.

“Whether it’s true or not, we’ll find out when we get to the Zi Tian Pavilion,” Zhang Yang said. “I’m going to settle things with Jin Liuli. She dared to plot against me, so she’d better be ready for the consequences. I assume the prince feels the same? Hah, your Crimson Flame Dynasty seems to have had no idea I was targeted, no clue about the moon-returning dragon’s ambush. Makes one wonder if your host is in league with the Taixu Dynasty. Otherwise, why did it take so long for you to come knocking at the Zi Tian Pavilion?”

Yan Chihuo sighed. “That’s on us. We never imagined anyone would dare act within the palace itself…” He trailed off, his expression turning suspicious. “If someone really did deceive us and kept us from stopping the plot against the Lord of the Sacred Forest and Big Brother Moon… it could only be the work of the Black Cloaked Strategist.”

Zhang Yang scoffed. The truth was obvious.

While they spoke, they arrived at the Zi Tian Pavilion.

Inside, the atmosphere was tense and oppressive.

Wind Dragon had already returned.

The news of the Black Cloaked Strategist’s capture by Zhang Yang had spread.

The Four Great Sons were still present.

They had always believed that once the Black Cloaked Strategist made a move, he would succeed. Even when targeting Zhang Yang, they had no doubt. They had even recovered ancient martial secrets stolen from them by the Hunters’ Guild years ago, waiting to see the final outcome.

Who would have expected Wind Dragon to come back in a panic, secretly speaking to Jin Liuli and making her visibly flustered, raising everyone’s suspicions in the process?

So, they decided to stay and watch things unfold.

At that moment, Zhang Yang walked into the Zi Tian Pavilion, the Black Cloaked Strategist slung over his shoulder, with Yan Chihuo at his side.

The Four Great Sons felt a jolt in their hearts the moment they saw him. Their eyes immediately shifted to the bald man Zhang Yang was carrying, then to Yan Chihuo, wondering if he had helped Zhang Yang escape.

“Lord of the Sacred Forest, please,” Yan Chihuo said respectfully, “let’s set the matter of the Crimson Flame Dynasty aside for now.”

Zhang Yang didn’t care whether this was Yan Chihuo’s way of targeting Jin Liuli or some attempt to shift blame. He was simply furious.

On his first day here, there had been two assassination attempts—both intended to be fatal. How could he not be angry?

He stepped forward, facing Jin Liuli directly.

At that moment, Jin Liuli and Wind Dragon stared at the man in Zhang Yang’s grasp with undisguised astonishment.

Neither had ever seen the true face of the Black Cloaked Strategist.

Zhang Yang and Yan Chihuo’s arrival had drawn the pavilion’s top experts into the hall, including Hunt Dragon, famous for the Battle of Heavenly Reaching Mountain. The fallen Hunt Tiger and Hunt Moon were also mentioned, along with other elite warriors, each of them unparalleled talents.

Zhang Yang suddenly slapped the strategist’s bare scalp.

A sharp crack echoed through the hall.

The unconscious Black Cloaked Strategist stirred.

Though his dantian had been destroyed, reducing him to an ordinary man, his physique remained powerful. Sustained by healing pills, his divine constitution still exceeded that of any normal mortal. Even suspended mid-air with shattered meridians, his pain seemed muted.

“Liuli.”

The word rasped from his throat and carried through the silent hall.

Jin Liuli sprang up, her last shred of denial shattering. “Strategist! It’s truly you!”

Chaos erupted.

Even members of the Crimson Flame Dynasty, including Yan Chihuo, gaped in disbelief.

“The real Black Cloaked Strategist!”

“Captured? His life and death in another’s hands?”

“The man who made the Western Desert quake! Who once faced three hundred saints alone, this must be an illusion!”

“Gone for a decade, only to return as a prisoner?”

“Impossible! Wherever the Strategist walks, rivers of holy blood flow! Saints retreat across three territories!”

“A fraud! The real Strategist would never allow himself to fall so low!”

The uproar intensified.

Jin Liuli’s recognition failed to sway the crowd, so deep was the Strategist’s fearful legacy in the Western Desert.

Slap!

Zhang Yang struck the Strategist’s occiput. “Speak! Stop this act!”

A tense silence fell, taut as a drawn bowstring.

A hundred gazes flickered between captor and captive, as long-held beliefs began to crumble.

The Strategist twisted violently. “You’ll pay for this! The Vast Forest will burn for your arrogance! You’ll crawl like a dog, begging…”

Slap!

“Blind fool!” Zhang Yang snapped. “Your fate is in my hands!”

“No one can kill me unless I do it,” the Strategist said coldly. “I remain the Western Desert’s nightmare. I’ll unravel all your secrets. Soon, you’ll be nothing but…”

Slap! Slap! Slap!

“Delusional wretch!” Zhang Yang’s palm cracked through the air like thunder. “A martial arts failure dares to threaten me?”

Each strike resonated in the souls of the onlookers.

There was no denying it now—this truly was the legendary figure who once painted the Western Desert red. And yet here he hung, slapped around like a disobedient child.

“This must be a dream…” many murmured.

Even Jin Liuli stood rooted in place. She knew the Strategist’s status—second only to the Taixu Dynasty’s Second Generation Ancestor, Jin Xunxian. There had been whispers among saints that Jin Xunxian intended to elevate him to National Master when founding the Taixu Immortal Nation.

Now, that celestial figure was being humiliated in public.

Regaining her composure, Jin Liuli murmured, “The Strategist… miscalculated.”

“A rare occurrence,” the Strategist said, baring a savage grin at Zhang Yang. “Watch closely, Princess. I will escape, and before long, even Yue Guilong will be pleading for this idiot to let me go."