Chapter 12: The Village Chief's Decision

Upon hearing the grim news, the six men displayed faces darkened by anger and the intent of vengeance. However, when it was revealed that it was the Hall of Spirits seeking the young master's death, their expressions turned somber, marked by a deep sadness that eclipsed any hint of fury.

One of them, whose imposing presence and fiery gaze reminded of the youth who had awakened the martial spirit of a dragon, broke the heavy silence. "And what if it is the Hall of Spirits?" he exclaimed with a firm voice, which echoed off the walls of the room like a challenge to fate. "If they dare to touch a single hair on the young master, they will have to cross over my dead body first."

The village chief, with the patience and wisdom that characterized him, let out a deep sigh before speaking. "Do not be carried away by anger," he advised calmly, his words floating in the air like leaves on a tranquil pond. "If we are blinded by rage, we will lose the clarity of our judgment." The chief's words seemed to take effect, and gradually, the tension in the room began to dissipate, leaving space for reflection.

It was Zhu Long who broke the newfound calm, his voice carrying a hint of strategy and urgency. "We can take the young master to the sect's headquarters," he proposed, while his eyes scrutinized the reactions of his companions. "That way, when the Hall of Spirits comes in three days, they will not find who they seek and will not be able to carry out their vile act."

"But how will we make them cease their search if they do not find the young master?" inquired one of the six, his question hanging in the air like a sword of Damocles over their heads.

The village chief, with a look that distilled a mix of cunning and determination, replied: "I will call on the parents to bring their children who have awakened the power of the innate soul. I will offer them preparation and teaching before they leave for junior school." He paused, ensuring that each word left its mark on the minds of his listeners. "If they come to destroy the village and everyone in it, among the bodies and chaos, it will be impossible to distinguish who is who. With almost a dozen children, the confusion will be such that they will assume the young master is among the fallen."

The men nodded, understanding the depth of the plan. There was a glimmer of hope in their eyes, mixed with the determination to protect at all costs what they cherished most.

The village chief fixed his penetrating gaze on Zhu Long and, with a voice that denoted the gravity of the situation, ordered: "Zhu Long, you are to take the young master and all our children and leave."

Zhu Long felt a lump in his throat upon hearing the order. It wasn't the village that mattered to him, but the fight, the chance to face his enemies to the last breath. Closing his eyes and clenching his fists was his way of containing the frustration that overwhelmed him. He wanted to stay, to fight to the end, but he knew he could not disobey. After a few seconds of internal struggle, he opened his eyes, let out a deep sigh, and nodded with determination, accepting the order.

The man who reminded of the child who had awakened the martial spirit of a dragon approached Zhu Long and, with camaraderie, placed his arm over his shoulders. "Don't worry," he said with a smile that tried to be comforting, "of all of us here, you are the one with the most potential to make it to the counter. After all, you are about to break through to the Spiritual Emperor, and I am sure you will be of much more use to the young master than I, who am barely a Spiritual Ancestor about to become a Spiritual King."

Another of the six interrupted, his voice deep and serious: "After all, the sect master is about to die, he is already 100 years old and has no hopes of advancing to the titled douluo. Therefore, the young master needs a force to support him in case someone refuses to follow his orders."

A heavy silence fell over the room. Everyone was aware of the possibility that the sect master might soon pass away, leaving a power vacuum that could threaten the stability of the sect and the safety of the young master.

The village chief broke the silence. He stood up solemnly and walked towards an ancient wooden cabinet. From the back, he extracted a map of the continent carefully framed in wood and protected by glass. He placed it on the desk with reverence.

Then, he opened one of the desk drawers and took out a cloth. With meticulous movements, he wiped the accumulated dust off the glass, clearly revealing the lands that made up their world. Once done, he stored the cloth and turned to his companions, ready to discuss the next step in their plan to protect the young master and secure the future of the sect.

The village chief stood up and, with a look that reflected both the gravity of the situation and the determination to find a solution, said: "Let's make a plan to reach the sect's headquarters with the least danger possible."

He approached the map he had dusted moments before and pointed to a spot to the right of Nuoding City. "We are here," he began, and then moved his finger to another point on the map, "and we have to get here," pointing to the capital of the Silver Kingdom.

"Therefore, we have two paths to get there," he continued, as everyone present drew closer to observe the map better. "The first is," he said, and his finger traced a route on the map, "to pass through the Holy Soul Village, then go up to Yolin City, and from there head east to reach the capital of the Silver Kingdom."

He paused briefly before continuing. "The second path is to go down and enter the territory of the Xingluo Empire, then head towards the capital, go up to Longxing City, after that enter the territory of the principality and then enter the Silver Kingdom."

He looked at everyone and, with a sly smile, said: "I think the path is going to be obvious..." He intentionally left a suspense and then released: "The second path, no, that's a joke! Obviously, it's better by the first path; on the second one, the distance is almost doubled." The joke achieved its purpose, and the tense atmosphere was lightened for a moment with some smiles and sighs of relief.

One of the six broke the brief moment of relaxation with a question that seemed to be on everyone's mind: "I have a question, I understand that the young master should escape, but why our children too? They should stay for when they search the bodies; having more bodies would still make it more impossible to know if he is still alive or not."

Upon hearing this, although they did not speak, almost everyone seemed to have the same question. The village chief, with a look that reflected both compassion and pragmatism, replied: "Even if they don't have much talent as soul masters, they can help the young master manage things. After all, they have grown up together and are much more loyal than the rest."

The village chief's explanation resonated in the room. Loyalty and unity were values that transcended power and talent, and in times of crisis, those bonds could be the difference between survival and doom.