Vogue’s mind raced through possibilities. Why would Sir Collins and his allies be so certain that Vogue wouldn’t side with Marcus? They had formed their alliance before the expedition began, which meant they’d been planning this confrontation from the start. But they couldn’t have known Vogue would remain neutral...

Unless they had planned for that too. Unless they had some method of ensuring Vogue wouldn’t interfere regardless of what he chose.

A cold chill ran down Vogue’s spine as he realized he was missing some crucial piece of information.

But outwardly, Vogue maintained his composure perfectly. He took several casual steps away from both groups, distancing himself even further from either faction, and replied in a tone of complete indifference:

"I don’t have a strong opinion on this dispute. Frankly, regardless of whatever outcome you Fellow Cultivators ultimately decide upon—whether through negotiation or through force—I will not oppose the result. This disagreement doesn’t directly concern me with how weak I am."

His words and body language made his position crystal clear: he intended to remain completely neutral and uninvolved in their power struggle.

Family Head Marcus wasn’t particularly surprised by this response. Vogue had consistently displayed a neutral, self-interested attitude throughout the expedition. The answer was disappointing but expected.

Marcus’s expression showed resigned acceptance rather than anger. He nodded slowly toward Vogue in acknowledgment of the honest answer, then turned his cold gaze back toward Sir Collins and the others.

His face had relaxed somewhat, and he appeared to be preparing to speak—likely to propose some kind of compromise or negotiation that might defuse the situation.

But at that precise moment, something completely unexpected occurred.

Mr. Yun, the white-clothed old man who had been standing silently beside Marcus, suddenly took one quick step forward and moved with blinding speed.

His hand shot out toward Marcus in what appeared to be a friendly gesture, perhaps reaching to place a hand on his ally’s shoulder.

But Vogue’s enhanced perception caught the truth in that fraction of a second: Mr. Yun’s eyes held no friendship. They burned with cold, murderous intent.

"Fellow Daoist Yun, wait, I am willing to—" Marcus started to say, clearly planning to propose a compromise.

"You!" The word emerged as a strangled gasp of shock and betrayal.

Mr. Yun had suddenly opened his mouth and released a shining white artifact that shot forward like a meteor. The ancient treasure, a silver wheel approximately one foot in diameter, tore through the air with devastating speed.

The spinning disc struck Marcus directly in the chest before he could even begin to defend himself.

"PENG!!"

A muffled explosive sound rang out as the silver wheel collided with Marcus’s torso. Golden light flared briefly from protective enchantments, but the wheel’s momentum was too great.

Under everyone’s shocked and incredulous gazes, the silver wheel tore straight through the golden defensive barrier protecting Marcus’s body. It struck his chest with tremendous force, creating a visible depression in his ribs even through his robes.

Marcus was lifted completely off his feet by the impact and thrown backward several steps. He stumbled and nearly fell, one hand clutching at his devastated chest.

When he looked down at the damage, they could all see that beneath his torn outer robes, there was a layer of shining azure armor, some kind of protective treasure that had absorbed the worst of the blow. The armor showed a deep concave depression where the wheel had struck, but it had held together and prevented the attack from completely destroying Marcus’s torso.

Nevertheless, Marcus had clearly suffered serious internal injuries from the massive impact force transmitted through even that exceptional defense.

Mr. Yun’s eyes flickered with what might have been disappointment as he stared at Marcus’s chest. He muttered in an emotionless tone:

"Azure Rhino Armor. As expected, you were wearing it beneath your clothes. I had wondered if you might have left it behind to avoid suspicion, but you’re too cautious for that."

Marcus pressed one hand against his chest, his face contorting with pain and fury. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. When he looked up at Mr. Yun, his eyes burned with absolute betrayal and rage.

"Good. Very good! I didn’t expect that you, my trusted friend and ally of over a century, would be the one to betray me! When did they buy you? What did Sir Collins offer you that was worth a hundred years of friendship?"

Despite the clear evidence of devastating treachery, Marcus’s mind was still sharp enough to immediately understand the situation. Mr. Yun hadn’t acted impulsively, this had been planned from the beginning.

The white-clothed old man had been working with Sir Collins’s faction all along, playing the role of Marcus’s ally while actually serving as a planted traitor.

The entire expedition had been a trap designed to eliminate Family Head Marcus from the very start.

Mr. Yun ignored Marcus’s anguished question as though his former friend were already a stranger. He didn’t even bother looking at Marcus as he turned to address Sir Collins and the others.

"Fellow Cultivators, please exercise extreme caution. Do not allow him to escape from this chamber alive. Marcus possesses mid-Luminous Realm cultivation and numerous life-saving treasures. Even gravely wounded as he is now, if he manages to flee, we will face tremendous trouble in the future from his inevitable revenge."

The stern-faced cultivator’s lips curved into a sinister, cruel smile. He responded with complete confidence:

"Relax, Brother Yun. We have such overwhelming numerical superiority, and he’s already seriously injured before the battle has even truly begun. It will be completely impossible for him to escape our combined efforts."

As he spoke, the stern-faced man opened his mouth and released his own artifact—a misty white flying saber that emerged and began circling above his head, ready to strike.

At that critical moment, Sir Collins suddenly turned his attention away from Marcus. His gaze shifted to land directly on Vogue, and he spoke with surprising warmth and friendliness:

"Fellow Cultivator Vogue, if you’re willing to assist us in dealing with Family Head Marcus, you’ll receive a fair share of his treasures and storage contents after we finish him. The distribution would be quite generous. What do you say?"

⸻

He spoke as though extending a sincere offer to a valued colleague, completely ignoring the violent hostilities that had existed between Vogue and members of Sir Collins’s group during their previous encounters.

Help them? Vogue thought with dark amusement. Do they think I’m a fool?

The entire scenario came as a tremendous shock to Vogue, though he carefully kept his expression neutral. His mind was racing to analyze the rapidly changing situation.

He had suspected from the beginning that the Klein Family’s motives weren’t entirely honest—that there might be elements of manipulation or deception in how they’d recruited him for this expedition. But he had drastically underestimated the depths of their scheming.

This wasn’t just a simple betrayal. This was a assassination conspiracy that had been arranged long before Vogue ever became involved.

Mr. Yun was a planted traitor from the start, Vogue realized. His century-long friendship with Marcus was all preparation for this one moment of betrayal. And Sir Collins’s faction had coordinated everything in advance. The entire expedition was designed to lure Marcus into this sealed chamber where he could be killed without any chance of escape or rescue.

And I was never meant to be a participant in the treasure distribution at all. I was just a tool—a living key to open the door. Once I served that purpose, they planned to eliminate me alongside Marcus.

Vogue’s eyes shifted toward the stairway exit. He noted with cold clarity that Madam Violet had already moved to position herself directly in front of the stairs during the confrontation, blocking the only escape route.

If Vogue hadn’t been observant, he might have missed that subtle repositioning. But he saw it clearly now—she was guarding the exit to prevent anyone from fleeing before the trap was fully sprung.

They never intended to let me leave this pavilion alive,

Vogue understood with absolute certainty. Whether I help them kill Marcus or refuse to participate, the outcome for me is the same. Once Marcus is dead, I’m next.

He felt no trust whatsoever toward Sir Collins’s friendly offer to join forces. If these people had been willing to include Vogue in their alliance from the beginning, they would have extended that invitation before the expedition started—just as they had done with their other co-conspirators.

The fact that they hadn’t approached him beforehand told Vogue everything he needed to know about his actual role in their plans.

He had been marked for death from the very beginning. The only question was whether he would die alongside Marcus or shortly after.

Vogue’s mind calculated rapidly. His best chance for survival was to let them focus entirely on killing Marcus first. During that chaotic battle, opportunities for escape might present themselves.

He absolutely couldn’t afford to side with Marcus and fight alongside him—that would just make Vogue an immediate high-priority target for elimination.

But he also couldn’t show any enthusiasm for joining the conspiracy against Marcus, because that would reveal he understood the danger and might prompt them to eliminate him preemptively to avoid complications.