The Marquis Mansion's Elite Class-Chapter 409

Zong Zhao couldn’t bring himself to speak.

Facing his elderly parents, he could endure the pain and force out a lie.

But before Zong Yan’s memorial tablet, with the image of his younger brother forever frozen at sixteen flashing before his eyes, the guilt and hatred in his heart multiplied, rendering all words difficult. They choked his throat, blocking any attempt at justification.

“Can’t find the words, can you?” the Old Marquis said bitterly. “Because this isn’t the truth. The truth is ugly. Zong Yan went to serve the nation with a heart full of passion, only to end up dead at the hands of his own people. And you—after returning to the capital, you overturned the Yan Family’s case, and then you sought to execute the murderer, all so Zong Yan could rest in peace in the afterlife. Isn’t that right?”

Zong Zhao’s hands trembled as he took the memorial tablet, clutching it to his chest as if, across the decades, he were embracing that bright-eyed younger brother who had always looked up to him.

-​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‍--

Ten years earlier, in the barracks at night.

Sixteen-year-old Zong Yan stormed back with an armful of firewood, muttering under his breath, “This is too much. General Zhao’s son gets to be a captain the moment he steps into the army, while you—a martial arts champion—are stuck as a lowly centurion. Not only do they make you sleep in a common bunk with us, but they also force us to do all the hard labor. They’re taking advantage of Father’s injury, his absence from the battlefield, thinking no one’s left to protect us.”

Zong Zhao took the firewood from him and said, “It’s fine. We’ll make a name for ourselves through our own skills. No need to dwell on their unfairness.”

Zong Yan’s temper flared up quickly but faded just as fast. After venting, he tossed aside his grievances and proudly held up something that gleamed under the firelight. “Brother, look what I’ve got!”

Zong Zhao glanced up and saw a silver claw attached to a thin silver wire. It looked familiar yet unusual. Hesitantly, he asked, “An iron claw hook?”

The iron claw hook was a specialized weapon, capable of both attack and climbing. Zong Zhao had seen it in weapon diagrams, but this one seemed different—the claw appeared softer, the wire finer.

Zong Yan nodded eagerly, his enthusiasm bubbling over as he explained, “This is my improved version! The wire’s thinner, but it’s made from black iron thread—super tough, cuts through flesh without leaving a trace. And look, the claw can retract too. Press here to close it, and here to open it. Much more convenient than the original. You can even tuck it into your sleeve! So? Pretty impressive, huh? I came up with all of this myself!”

Zong Zhao examined it carefully before nodding in approval. “Not bad. You’ve got a talent for crafting hidden weapons.”

Praise from his brother made Zong Yan grin from ear to ear. “Hah! I knew you’d say that! My martial arts instructor said the same thing. Only thing is, I still lack experience. Once I’ve spent a few more years on the battlefield, I might even design something even better—something all the soldiers of Great Chu can use!”

A faint smile touched Zong Zhao’s lips as he handed the claw back. “A noble ambition. I’ll look forward to seeing your next invention.”

Zong Yan chuckled, then shoved the claw back into his brother’s hands. “Here, you take this one. I’m already working on another. Once it’s done, we’ll each have one—perfect for fighting and self-defense.”

Zong Zhao refused. “If you’ve only finished one, you should keep it. I’ll wait for the second.”

After a moment’s thought, Zong Yan agreed. “Alright! I’ll finish yours in no time—just a few more days.”

“Good.”

The two brothers sat quietly in their corner.

The fire crackled, logs splitting in the heat.

---

In the fourth watch, before dawn.

A soldier arrived with orders: “Zong Zhao, the general commands you to lead a squad beyond the city walls. Lure the enemy into the western woods. We’ll send reinforcements to encircle them.”

Zong Zhao frowned. “We’re only a hundred men. Even as bait, that’s too few.”

The soldier didn’t explain, merely raised his token and snapped, “Military orders are not to be questioned. Do you dare disobey?”

Tension flared between them.

Zong Yan stepped forward, pulling his brother back. “Brother soldier, which general gave this order? General Zhao?”

The man replied coldly, “General Zong Qiyun.”

Relief washed over Zong Yan. He turned to his brother. “See? It’s Uncle Qiyun. He’s our cousin, not like that Zhao Yumin. He wouldn’t harm us. I bet he’s got a brilliant strategy—just can’t share the details with us lowly soldiers.”

Zong Zhao saw the logic in this. Lower ranks weren’t meant to know the generals’ plans. Reluctantly, he gathered his men and prepared to depart.

A hundred men as bait was indeed unconvincing, but before daybreak, they could easily create the illusion of greater numbers. Soon, enemy cavalry gave chase.

Zong Yan retreated excitedly. “Brother, they’ve taken the bait—about a thousand men! Too many for us to handle, but if Uncle Qiyun flanks them, none will escape!”

Zong Zhao nodded. “Stay sharp. Don’t engage fully. Wait for Uncle Qiyun.”

“Got it!”

The squad feinted and retreated, clashing briefly before pulling back, their movements deceptive, their intentions unclear.

As bait, they played their part perfectly.

But then—

A panicked shout rose from the rear: “Sir! We can’t retreat—there’s a cliff behind us!”

“What? A cliff? How can there be a cliff in the woods?” frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓

“I don’t know! We’re all new recruits—none of us know the terrain! Centurion, what’s going on?”

The soldiers’ frantic questions sent a chill through Zong Zhao. He sensed disaster but forced himself to steady them. “If we can’t retreat, we fight! Stay calm! Reinforcements will arrive soon!”

“Yes! Let’s take them on!”

“Today’s the day we make our names!”

Morale surged as the men raised their weapons and charged.

Zong Zhao’s squad was strong—he had trained them tirelessly since joining the army. Even in their first battle, they fought with unmatched ferocity.

But the enemy was endless.

For every soldier they cut down, another took his place. The foes weren’t as skilled, but their numbers seemed infinite… infinite…

Zong Yan fought like a man possessed, his face and clothes splattered with blood—both enemy and his own. As their own men fell one by one, and no sign of reinforcements came, he turned to Zong Zhao and asked, “Brother… is Uncle Qiyun not coming?”

New novel chapt𝒆rs are published on free(w)ebnovel(.)com