Chapter 23: Conspiracy

The ancestral ceremony of the Fire Crow Tribe had come to an end.

This time, perhaps dissatisfied with the offerings, the ancestral spirits bestowed no blessings upon the people. The shamans of the Fire Crow Tribe were deeply troubled by this outcome, for a clan that had lost the favor of its ancestors was often beset by a string of misfortunes.

Yet in the encampment of the Ji Shu Clan, a group of more than a dozen sat around the hearth, faces beaming with pride and satisfaction. They tore into fragrant roasted meat with gusto, and washed it down with the finest spirits purchased at great expense from the merchant caravans.

Jiang Bo sat in the center, holding a large bowl. With an air of smug triumph, he clinked it heavily against the bowl of another burly middle-aged man—one whom Ji Hao had spied upon a few nights before from outside the tent. They both laughed heartily, downing their drinks in one draught.

Exhaling boozy breath, the middle-aged man wiped his face and sighed with deep contentment. “Back then, I lost to Ji Xiong, Ji Xia’s father, at the ancestral ceremony—he broke over a dozen of my ribs, and I failed to seize the position of clan war chief.”

He shrugged and grinned, his pride unrestrained. “But now, Ji Xiong’s bones are fit to be made into drumsticks, and I, Ji Huan, am still alive and well. My son Ji Shu has defeated Ji Xiong’s son and claimed what I could not all those years ago.”

A fiery young woman, barely clothed in two strips of hide around her hips and chest, sidled up to him with a coquettish smile. She lifted a massive jug and refilled Ji Huan’s cup with fine liquor. Ji Huan gave her thigh a playful squeeze and drank deeply, grinning.

Jiang Bo laughed hoarsely, his long, narrow eyes squinting with amusement as he spoke slowly. “Now that Ji Shu is war chief of the Fire Crow Tribe, there are things we once could not do that are now within our grasp. Ha! Suddenly the future seems bright indeed—Ji Shu’s prospects are dazzling!”

Ji Shu sat beside Ji Huan, both hands gripping a great axe of blood-red jade in silence.

The axe’s handle was nearly a yard long, and upon its broad blade were carved images of three-legged golden crows circling and dancing around the sun. The axe itself was plain, devoid of any runes or enchantments—not even a basic shamanic artifact.

But this was the Fire Crow Axe-Staff, the ancestral symbol of power in the Fire Crow Tribe. Whoever wielded it could command all the warriors of over a thousand clans and countless vassal tribes, unleashing them upon any foe.

The tribe’s war potential was terrifying. Beyond their formidable shamans, even the thousand-odd giant crows of Golden Crow Ridge—each a match for a great shaman—were a force of utter destruction.

Turning the axe-staff over and over in his hands, Ji Shu said in a chilling tone, “For this, I sacrificed even my own son.”

The thought of Ji Wu’s head, mashed to pulp at his feet, sent sharp pangs through Ji Shu’s heart. After all, he had been his own flesh and blood, his dearest child. Yet for the axe-staff, he had slain him with his own hands.

Ji Huan snorted, snatching up the axe-staff and playing with it, grinning from ear to ear. As he stroked the weapon, he sneered, “So what if you lost a son? Ji Shu, I have seven sons by your brothers—try harder, find a few more women, have more sons!”

Jiang Bo’s eyes glinted as he regarded the axe-staff, chuckling softly. “That’s right, Shu. When we return, I’ll personally choose a few beautiful young women from the clan to bear you more sons. You’re still strong and young—no need to fear a lack of heirs.”

Ji Shu made no reply, his face dark as he stared into the flames.

Jiang Bo narrowed his eyes and continued coolly, “As for Jiang Yao... I know she’s fiercely jealous, never letting you touch another woman. I’ll speak to her myself about this.”

Before he could finish, Jiang Yao slipped through the tent flap like a shadow.

Her face was ashen as a vengeful ghost, her gaze icy as she fixed it on Jiang Bo and pronounced each word with venom: “I agree. But Ji Xia, Qing Fu, and their damned son—they must all die! They must be buried with Wu!”

Ji Huan and Ji Shu said nothing. Jiang Bo frowned, staring coldly at Jiang Yao with a mocking smile. “I told you, this can’t be rushed. You saw for yourself at the ceremony—those old men of the Fire Crow Tribe still aren’t pleased with Ji Shu. For now, we—”

Jiang Yao snapped, “If you don’t let me avenge Wu, I’ll expose everything you’re planning.”

Jiang Bo sprang up in fury, pointing at her and shouting, “You dare?”

Jiang Yao raised her chin defiantly, sneering, “You tell me—do I dare or not?”

Jiang Bo fumed. “If it weren’t for your stupidity in using forbidden arts to awaken the Bi Fang blood in Wu—”

Jiang Yao cut him off with a cold retort. “The Bi Fang line is far stronger than the Fire Crow’s. What’s wrong with wanting my son to surpass that little wretch, Qing Fu’s son?”

Jiang Bo glared at her, roaring, “But you should never have acted before the ancestral ceremony! Bloodline matters—no tribe in the Southern Wilds will accept an heir who awakens an outsider’s blood. You nearly ruined all our plans.”

Jiang Yao stared back, teeth clenched. “But Ji Shu succeeded, didn’t he? What’s set at the ancestral ceremony cannot be changed, not even by those old fossils like Ji Kui. Now, I want Ji Xia’s whole family dead—especially that brat, Ji Hao!”

Ji Shu raised a bowl and slowly downed his drink. He looked at Jiang Yao and said quietly, “Leave this to me. There will be results soon... Jiang Yao, don’t meddle with your little tricks and schemes any longer.”

Jiang Yao’s pallor deepened to a ghastly blue. She bit her lip and sneered, “Little tricks? Schemes? You look down on me?”

Jiang Bo flickered and a burst of fire flashed in front of Jiang Yao. He emerged from the flames and slapped her so hard she spat blood and collapsed to the ground, wailing.

He glared at her, voice low and furious. “You think your schemes are clever? You sent that little wretch Jiang Xue to make trouble—don’t you realize if Jiang Xue kills the former war chief’s son on Golden Crow Ridge, what would happen?”

Jiang Yao lifted her chin, dismissive. “Would the Fire Crow Tribe dare to turn against the Bi Fang? At worst, we destroy them!”

Ji Huan and Ji Shu’s faces twisted in disgust, as if they had just swallowed a bucket of filth. Jiang Yao was beyond reason.

The Fire Crow clansmen in the tent twitched with barely contained rage; if Jiang Bo were not present, some might have drawn their blades and simply put an end to this arrogant woman.

Ji Shu looked at Jiang Yao’s contorted face and finally sighed helplessly.

“Give me a few days—I’ll dispatch Ji Xia to guard the frontier beyond Golden Crow Ridge. That’s my right.”

“Once Ji Xia leaves the ridge, the rest is simple.”