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Morning mist curled over the tiled rooftops of Amberlight City like smoke rising from a battlefield that had yet to be fought. The city, nestled against a mountainside, seemed peaceful. But Su Yang knew better. Behind the calm walls and quiet courtyards, betrayal stirred.
He stood in the City Lord's strategy hall, surrounded by patrol captains and the old advisor, Shen. On the table lay the recovered enemy map—now marked with red ink across all three approach routes.
"We'll be outnumbered three to one," Captain Hong muttered, arms folded. "And half our walls are too old to hold if they use formation-breakers or alchemy bombs."
"They will," Su Yang said. "That's why we won't wait for them to surround us."
Captain Hong frowned. "You want to march out?"
"No. We'll trap them before they can encircle the city. But first, we find the mole feeding them information."
Everyone went silent.
"How?" Shen asked finally.
Su Yang unfurled another scroll. It was a false map—created to look authentic, complete with fake patrol shifts and a baited supply route. "We leak this 'updated route' today," he said. "If the bandits change position to ambush this route, we'll know our spy is still active."
Wei Zhen stepped forward. "And when that happens?"
"Then," Su Yang said, "we isolate everyone with access to that information—every scribe, runner, merchant, and guard. We narrow them down until only the spy remains."
---
By noon, the forged scroll had been quietly passed around—through only five trusted hands, each under watch.
Max, invisible and silent, followed the scent of ink and spirit paper like a trained hound, leaping silently between rooftops and watching every interaction.
Su Yang didn't wait long.
That evening, a guard at the north granary changed his patrol direction unexpectedly. Not a major shift—but it allowed a merchant cart to pass through a restricted zone. Max watched the man disappear into the alley behind the merchant guild and vanish into a storage house.
Su Yang was waiting.
He leaned casually against the corner of the alley, his alchemist robes flapping lightly in the mountain wind.
"It's strange," he said aloud, "how someone entrusted with patrol duty found the time to escort a merchant in a restricted zone."
The guard—Liu Fen—froze.
Max appeared silently at Su Yang's side, eyes glowing faintly in the dark.
"You… you're that disciple," Liu Fen muttered, voice faltering.
"Yes. The one you tried to mislead."
Without warning, Liu Fen lunged forward, drawing a concealed dagger—but Su Yang was faster.
With a flick of his palm, a small Karma Fire burst into being, its crimson-gold flames burning through the dagger's metal in mid-air. The blade shattered in Liu Fen's hand. He screamed, clutching his wrist.
"You have one chance," Su Yang said coldly. "Talk, and I'll let you walk away with your life."
The man whimpered. "I don't know his name! I swear! Just that he always wears a fox mask—and meets me behind the old shrine at dusk—every third day!"
Su Yang's eyes narrowed. "That's tomorrow."
He turned away. "You'll be locked in the dungeon until we confirm your story."
---
The next evening, Su Yang waited behind the crumbling shrine ruins outside Amberlight's southern district. The wind blew steadily, carrying the scent of herbs, smoke, and earth. He crouched silently behind an overgrown pillar, Max by his side.
Dusk fell.
From the mist emerged a cloaked figure in gray robes and a wooden fox mask.
The figure stood alone for a moment… then whistled twice—high and sharp.
Su Yang moved.
With a burst of light, he flared his Karma Fire, revealing himself.
The fox-masked figure cursed and turned to flee, but Max leapt ahead, cutting off escape. Su Yang appeared behind him in a flash of movement, palm raised.
The masked traitor tried to throw a black talisman to ignite a smoke escape—but Su Yang's flame struck first, burning the paper mid-air.
A moment later, the man was pinned to the ground, Max growling inches from his throat.
"Remove the mask," Su Yang ordered.
Two guards rushed forward from the shadows. Shen had sent backup.
When they lifted the mask, a collective breath caught in their throats.
"…Advisor Han?" one of the guards said in disbelief.
The bald-headed trade advisor, known for his gentle voice and patient manner, glared up at Su Yang with venom in his eyes.
"Why?" Su Yang asked simply.
Han spat blood and sneered. "Because this city is a waste. A patch of dirt ruled by weak fools clinging to dying traditions. The Eagle Flame Clan promised me a better place."
"Better?" Su Yang echoed. "By letting bandits butcher the people you swore to protect?"
"I'm a visionary," Han snarled. "You… you're just a tool."
Su Yang's gaze turned cold. "No. I'm the hand that wields the tool."
---
That night, Advisor Han was imprisoned, and news of the mole's capture spread like wildfire.
In the City Lord's hall, Wei Zhen bowed deeply to Su Yang.
"You've done more in five days than most would in a season. With the traitor exposed, our walls no longer leak."
Su Yang nodded. "Then it's time we prepare the trap. The bandits will strike in three days. Let's make sure they regret it."
Wei Zhen grinned. "What's your plan?"
Su Yang turned toward the wall map. "I'll need a dozen alchemists, twenty archers, barrels of spirit-oil, and two squads with net charms. We'll burn their front line… and bury their second wave under the cliffs."
Wei Zhen blinked. "You mean… lure them into the canyon path?"
"Exactly. The narrow slope is perfect. We'll collapse it with fire-enhanced talismans once their center crosses."
"You're thinking like a tactician," Wei Zhen said with a smile.
Su Yang gave a soft laugh. "Not a tactician. Just someone who prefers his enemies buried beneath rock instead of roaming free."
---
As the city began moving under Su Yang's command, as preparations sharpened and plans took form, the people—once doubtful of the young sect disciple—now watched him with awe.
He wasn't just their hope.
He was their coming storm.
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