(Feilian?)
There was no way Bai Zihan wouldn’t recognize the name.
It was the same person whose Ruin he was in—the same Trial meant to obtain her inheritance.
(So this is when Immortal Emperor Feilian was young?)
Looking at the princess again, Bai Zihan could see that she really did resemble the appearance of the Remnant Soul, though she looked immature.
In any case, he was finally feeling a bit of relief.
Perhaps the young Feilian might be able to give him an idea of what the objective of this Trial was going to be.
Along with her was a haughty guy who looked disgusted to be in that place.
One look and you could tell he was the kind of guy who cared only about vanity and didn’t give a damn about anything else.
There were also four guards with them, and they seemed pretty strong—especially the fierce-looking one beside the arrogant guy.
Bai Zihan was sure that one had some cultivation.
He could sense some Qi from him, although not clearly since this current body was weak and not very sensitive to Qi.
Anyway, back to Princess Feilian.
She wasn’t what he expected.
No haughty air. No look of superiority.
Instead, she bowed slightly.
“I came to thank you… for what you’ve done. You have saved the lives of my citizens which should normally have been my responsibility.”
Bai Zihan remained silent, observing her carefully.
If the Remnant Soul knew her younger self had thanked him—the same person she didn’t seem to like—he wondered what kind of expression she’d make.
Feilian glanced at the half-repaired buildings, the watchtowers, and everything which has been destroyed but people still trying to survive.
She let out a quiet breath.
This was the same place she’d essentially abandoned, and looking around, she couldn’t help but feel guilty.
She even felt she couldn’t look into the eyes of the survivors—some curious, some hostile.
She didn’t think it was wrong for them to feel that way. After all, the one who was supposed to protect them had abandoned them.
But at least, the saving grace was that—unlike what she thought—the leader of this place didn’t seem to hate her.
She could tell he didn’t hate her, but also didn’t fear or respect her either.
Instead, he gave off a sense of quiet arrogance, like someone who was above her—even though she was the princess.
Well, that was to be expected. She was just a princess who ruled over a single, average-sized city.
Bai Zihan, on the other hand, was like a prince—heir to a clan that controlled hundreds of cities which are similar to Ironmist.
“This place was supposed to be a death zone,” she murmured.
“And yet… you turned it into hope. You’ve managed to save and help hundreds of people.”
The haughty man beside her scoffed.
“Hope? For what? A pile of rubble and insects with toys that go bang?”
Bai Zihan’s gaze flicked to him—flat, unamused.
The fierce-looking guard subtly stepped forward, placing himself half a step between the two—just in case.
Feilian frowned but didn’t rebuke Minister Duan. Instead, she turned back to Bai Zihan.
“I won’t waste your time. I came because I need your help. For the city’s sake.”
“You want the weapon that I made?”
Bai Zihan asked bluntly.
He didn’t mind giving them the guns or letting them create more. But was that what he needed to do for the Trial?
Was it that simple?
He didn’t think so.
If the only problem was the Middle City being destroyed, Bai Zihan doubted the original military force couldn’t have handled it.
He reckoned that if they had ten people like that guard protecting the haughty guy, they could easily save the city from the demonic beasts.
Princess Feilian nodded honestly.
“I heard about its capabilities and would like to create more using the blacksmiths we have. Of course, I’ll give you proper compensation for your contribution.”
“What can you give me?”
Bai Zihan wasn’t particularly interested—he didn’t even know if he could bring anything from this illusion back to reality.
But he asked anyway. He wanted to see her sincerity.
“Anything and everything you want from the Treasury!”
Princess Feilian offered without hesitation.
A top-tier offer—she was essentially saying he could take whatever he wanted.
“Princess!”
The haughty guy yelled, angry.
He really seemed pissed like the treasure princess wanted to give away belongs to him.
Well, Minister Duan does think that everything in the Inner City belonged to him including the treasures in the treasury.
So, of course, he would get angry when what he thought of was being given away.
“We can’t just give anything to this guy! Who knows if those things even work like the scouts claimed? Maybe it’s all a scam to cheat us out of our treasures!”
The princess hesitated, then turned to Bai Zihan.
“Can you show us a demonstration of your weapon?”
She asked.
Despite her high status, she sure didn’t act like it.
“Sure!”
Bai Zihan replied.
***
Later, at the training ground—
The survivors were using this space temporarily to train with the guns. It was also the same place where Bai Zihan had first tested black powder.
Princess Feilian’s group waited in silence—though not all of them patiently.
The haughty man kept tapping his foot, arms crossed, looking like the very air of the slums offended him.
Soon, a group of survivors appeared, each holding a gun.
They walked to the training field, where wooden dummies lined the far wall.
“Fire!”
Bai Zihan commanded.
With a casual flick of their fingers, the group fired at command.
Bang—a clean, sharp crack echoed like thunder in the yard.
The farthest dummy, at least two hundred meters away, also had its armor pierced.
The haughty guy flinched, startled by the loud noise.
Feilian’s eyes widened as she stared at the shattered remains.
Though she didn’t think her scouts had lied, the story had sounded too bizarre to be completely trusted.
But now that she’d seen it for herself, she had no choice but to believe.
Bai Zihan didn’t even blink.
“Would you like another demonstration?”
He asked with mock politeness.
Princess Feilian slowly shook her head, lips parted.
“No, that’s enough!”
The haughty guy snapped out of it first.
“Hmph! So what? It’s just a bit stronger than a crossbow. Can it really change our situation? I doubt it.”
This, despite the fact he’d just jumped in fear from the shot.
Bai Zihan didn’t respond. He didn’t care to prove that guns were the ultimate weapon or anything.
If they didn’t want it, that was their loss.
Well—actually, the question should be whether he even wanted to give them the method to make such weapons.
