Chương 196: The Price of Peace

The secret mountain pavilion was deathly quiet, the only sound the soft, whistling wind outside and the ragged, pain-filled gasps of the crippled General Kaelen. Fat Pig stood over the broken man, his chest heaving, the last vestiges of his tyrannical rage slowly receding, replaced by the cold, calculating mind of a merchant assessing the aftermath of a disastrously failed negotiation. He, Cyra, and Spine did not linger either.

Leaving the terrified advisor, Jian, to tend to his crippled general, they made their way back to Frostgate City under the heavy, star-filled northern sky. The journey was a silent one, each of them lost in their own thoughts. They returned to the grand guesthouse to find Li Yu waiting for them in the main hall, a single, warm lantern casting a gentle glow on the quiet room. He was sitting at a table, looking at the sky, as if he had been waiting for them to return from a simple evening stroll.

Fat Pig's composure, which had been a mask of cold fury and then shrewd calculation, finally crumbled. He rushed forward and fell to one knee, his head bowed, his portly frame trembling with a mixture of shame and a lingering, vicarious rage.

"Wise Host!" he said, his voice a low, miserable groan.

"This one has failed you! I have failed in the task of peaceful negotiation that you entrusted to me! I lost my temper. I attacked the Prince's general. I have brought shame upon the Golden Shell Guild and created a great, new trouble for you. Please, deliver your punishment." Li Yu looked at the kneeling, genuinely remorseful Fat Pig, then at the serene, unruffled Cyra and the silent, unmoving Spine. He asked him what had happened for Fat Pig to be this way and they explained what happened.

"You were attacked first," Li Yu stated.

"Yes, Wise Host," Fat Pig admitted.

"The general, in his arrogance and rage, struck first. He could not accept our neutrality." Li Yu stood up and walked over to his kneeling Vice Guild Master.

"Fat Pig," he said, his voice gentle but firm. He placed a hand on the portly sovereign's shoulder.

"Stand up." Fat Pig looked up, his small, shrewd eyes filled with confusion.

"There is nothing to apologize for," Li Yu said, his gaze clear and absolute.

"You were attacked while acting as a representative of our Guild. You were threatened. You did not initiate the conflict. You ended it. Kui taught you the art of righteous profit, but you must remember the first law that governs all our enterprises: we do not seek trouble, but if trouble finds us, we will meet it with overwhelming, decisive force. You did not bring trouble. You upheld the honor and the authority of the Golden Shell Guild perfectly. You did well."

A wave of profound, overwhelming relief washed over Fat Pig. He had expected a reprimand, a punishment for his loss of control. Instead, he had received praise. He had received his master's backing. He stood up, his back straighter, his eyes shining with a new, deeper drive for more profits.

"Thank you, Wise Host," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

"This one… this one will not fail you again." The consequences of their 'failed' negotiation arrived far sooner, and were far more absolute, than any of them had anticipated. General Kaelen's crippling was the final, crushing blow to the Third Prince's already shattered faction. He had not just been defeated; he had been systematically dismembered, his every move countered, his every source of power surgically removed. That night, a secret, desperate meeting was held in the Prince's war room.

The atmosphere was not one of rage, but of a deep, profound, and utterly hopeless despair.

"It is over," the advisor, Jian, said, his voice the weary, hollow sound of a man who had accepted his own doom.

"The Seventh Princess, with the backing of the Imperial Guardian, is already launching a full-scale assault on our last defensive line. With General Kaelen gone, we have no one who can stand against them. We have lost, Your Highness." The Third Prince, who had been a raging storm of fury for a month, was now a dead, empty calm. He looked at the strategic map, at the sea of enemy markers that were about to drown his own, and he finally, truly, understood. He had lost. His ambition, his pride, his entire life's work…

it had all been for nothing. He had a choice. He could fight to the last man, a glorious, suicidal last stand that would plunge the empire into extended bloody and ruinous warfare. Or he could surrender and go into exile. He had the blood of some other members of the royal family on his hands and so did his sister. They hadn't killed everyone, some escaped in time or were already in hiding long ago. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

He thought of the calm, smiling young man in the merchant's inn. He thought of the terrifying, silent old man who could shatter a Core Formation expert's arm with a casual touch. He thought of the elegant, beautiful woman whose phantom tentacle could sever a limb with the speed of a thought. He thought of the mysterious, god-like 'Grand Elder' who had annihilated the Riptide Legion. He had not just lost to his sister. He had provoked a monster, a sleeping beast whose depths he could not even begin to comprehend.

To continue this war was not just to lose to his sister; there was the risk that the Golden Shell Company would join hands with his sister after he had insulted them.

"Draft the decree," the Third Prince said, his voice a dead, empty whisper.

"I… I abdicate my claim to the throne. I will support the ascension of my sister, the Seventh Princess, as the new Empress." The news, when it was officially announced the next morning, sent a shockwave across the entire Boreal Frost Empire. The brutal, bloody civil war that had been tearing the nation apart was, in a single, stunning declaration, over.

The soldiers in the streets of Frostgate City did not cheer; they simply sagged with a profound, weary relief, the weight of a war they could not win finally lifted from their shoulders. The Seventh Princess, upon receiving the news, was said to have simply smiled a slow, satisfied smile. She accepted her brother's surrender, and a new imperial decree was sent out: the official coronation of the new Frost Empress would be held in the imperial capital in one month's time. A new era of peace was about to dawn.

For the Golden Shell Guild, this was a commercial opportunity. The blockades were lifted. The trade routes were opened. The desperate, war-torn cities of the north were in dire need of every conceivable resource. While many merchant guilds and clans scrambled to restart their operations, the Golden Shell Guild, thanks to Fat Pig's shrewd groundwork and their immense stockpiles, was ready to move immediately.

A communication was sent south after their meeting with the prince expecting this outcome and Kui himself, seeing the opportunity, arrived two days later on a swift-flying beast, carrying many storage rings filled to the brim with high-grade elixirs, spirit beast jerky, and other vital supplies from their southern warehouses.

They were not the primary supplier to the north—the region had its own established networks—but they were the first to arrive with a massive quantity of high-quality goods, and they reaped a massive profit, their actions cementing their reputation as a reliable and incredibly well-prepared commercial powerhouse. All thanks to their internal information and their unintended doing. With the war over and the political situation stabilizing under Kui and Fat Pig's capable hands, Li Yu was restless.

He had seen a sliver of this frozen, beautiful world, and he wanted to see more.

"The Boreal Frost Empire is vast," he said to Cyra one evening, as they looked out from their guesthouse at the now-peaceful, snow-covered city.

"Let us take a tour. Let us see the sights." They went to the city's finest carriage maker and, with a small fortune in spirit stones, purchased their own. It was a simple, yet masterfully crafted, vehicle, its exterior a plain, dark wood, but its interior a space of quiet luxury, with comfortable seats, a small alchemy stove for brewing tea, and powerful, silent defensive and climate-control arrays.

It was the perfect carriage for a quiet, wealthy scholar and his elegant companion who wished to travel in comfort, but without drawing undue attention. They journeyed to the legendary Sky-Arch City, a metropolis built not on the ground, but on a series of colossal, natural stone arches that spanned a chasm so deep its bottom was lost in a perpetual sea of mist. They walked the high, windswept bridges, marveling at the unique architecture and the hardy, wind-aspected beasts the locals used as mounts.

Li Yu spent a day in the city's famous Wind-Crystal Mines, not for the wealth, but to feel the pure, concentrated wind-elemental energy, a new and fascinating experience for his water-attuned senses. He even managed to acquire a pair of Water-Rider Wyverns, small, beautiful Rank 3 beasts whose wings were as tough and translucent as the crystals they fed on.

From there, they traveled to the Sunken City of Glaciers, an ancient, abandoned ruin from a forgotten age, its highest towers now just jagged peaks of ice jutting out from a colossal, slow-moving glacier. It was a place of profound silence and ancient mystery. While Cyra stood guard, Li Yu spent a full day exploring the glacial meltwater rivers that flowed from the city's frozen heart. He released Caihong and her two drake guardians, and this time, their search was fruitful.

Hidden deep beneath the ice, in a submerged, forgotten vault that had been cracked open by the shifting glacier, Caihong discovered a small, unassuming, and perfectly preserved wooden chest. Inside was not a powerful weapon or a heaven-defying technique, but a single, rolled-up silk scroll. Li Yu carefully unrolled it. It was a painting, a masterpiece from a long-forgotten, pre-imperial dynasty. It depicted a serene, moonlit ocean, with a single, small boat drifting on its surface.

The artistry was profound, full of a deep, quiet tranquility, that Li Yu felt his own spiritual sea calm and settle just by looking at it. It was useless for combat or cultivation, but it was a nice work of art, a beautiful mystery that he could spend time happily contemplating. They traveled around the north, a quiet, peaceful journey of discovery. Li Yu was not just a cultivator seeking power; he was a young man, finally seeing the world he had only ever read about.

He tried the spicy, warming foods of the north, listened to the epic, heroic sagas of the imperial storytellers, and added a dozen new, humble, but unique, species to his ever-growing sanctuary.