Young Master System: My Mother Is the Matriarch
Chapter 68: Fierce Debate

Chapter 68: Chapter 68: Fierce Debate

Far from the smoke-laden depths of the ancient crypt, beyond jagged cliffs and mist-veiled forests, a lone mountain stood with proud defiance against the heavens. Its crown pierced the sky like a dagger, sheathed in rolling clouds, and on its summit stood a structure that few dared approach—The Grand Pavilion of Ember Crest.

Carved directly into the mountain’s peak, the pavilion was a monument of imperial wealth and brutal authority. Its southern gate loomed like a hungry maw, guarded by bronze effigies of war lions. Watchtowers flanked the east and west, ever-vigilant, while the main hall sat to the north, seated atop stone steps that gleamed under the morning sun like the path of an emperor.

Within that very hall, a storm was brewing.

*CLACK...CLACK...CLACK*

Each footstep echoed like a gavel striking judgment as Bing Cao approached the throne.

Though his back was straight and his voice steady, his robes carried the dust of travel and the burden of the message he bore. His sleeves were modest, his jade clasp tarnished by age, but his eyes glowed with the insight of a man who had walked alongside kings yet bowed to none.

At the head of the hall, above the cascading steps of polished blackstone, sat Lord Ba Zi—the Protector of the Northern Realms, clad in crimson robes woven from fire silk, the pattern of a burning phoenix emblazoned upon his chest.

Ba Zi leaned upon his golden throne like a tiger in slumber, his fingers resting beside the hilt of a saber sheathed in a scabbard that hissed faint wisps of smoke with every shift of his posture.

"Lord Ba Zi," Bing Cao began, bowing only slightly. "I humbly ask you to review your decree regarding the levies placed upon Crescent Moon city. The draft for soldiers—"

Ba Zi didn’t flinch. His voice came slow and cold, soft like embers before the blaze.

"You dare... defy my decree, Bing Cao?"

Though his tone was low, the entire hall fell into stillness.

Not even the guards dared to shift in their boots.

Bing Cao bowed deeper, hands still clasped.

"Of course not, Lord Ba Zi. I would never dream of such."

But Ba Zi’s lip curled. His voice rose with disdain, his words scraping like rusted steel.

"You act like a city lord, when you’re no more than an adviser... a pathetic mouthpiece sent in the place of a coward too craven to speak to me himself."

His eyes narrowed, a gaze reserved for filth, for crawling vermin that dared to whisper in halls of power. He leaned forward, one hand still resting ominously on the hilt of his saber.

"Let me be clear, Bing Cao, since your aging ears may have missed the subtlety. What gave you the audacity to come here... and demand I lower your city’s soldier quota?"

Before Bing Cao could even draw breath to respond, Ba Zi pressed further.

"And more importantly... how exactly do you intend to persuade me... to let you leave this place—alive?"

*CLINK.*

The fingers on his left hand twitched. The saber responded, rattling in its sheath like a dragon disturbed from slumber.

A cold bead of sweat trailed down Bing Cao’s temple, but his voice remained composed.

"Lord Ba Zi, the city lord—he would’ve come in person, but the abrupt unsealing of the crypt near his domain has forced him to act. He—"

Ba Zi’s eyes flared. His fingers snapped the saber free from its sheath in one fluid motion.

*SHRIIING!!*

Flames erupted from the blade like a tidal wave of inferno. The saber now blazed, its edge glowing with molten light, licking the air with tongues of heat.

Ba Zi took a single step forward. The earth beneath him cracked

, scorched black by the very presence of his fury.

"You dare bring that matter into my hall?!"

He raised the saber above his head. The air rippled, reality bending around the searing heat.

[Flame Sumatra – First Move: Vengeful Vedas]

"Choose your words more carefully... in the next life."

The saber came down.

*BOOOOOOOOOM!!*

The blade cleaved through the air like a dragon’s wrath, sending forth a torrent of flames that roared across the throne room, turning the marble tiles to bubbling glass.

But Bing Cao had lived too long to die so easily.

*FWWAAAAA!—WHOOSH!*

With a desperate shout, he threw his palm forward, spinning his qi in a violent spiral. Wind howled into existence.

[Gale Fist – First Move: Whirlwind Strike]

A wall of condensed wind smashed into the saber’s flames, the collision shaking the very mountain

.

*KRAAA-KOOOOM!!!*

Fire and wind battled furiously, the two forces twisting into a deadly cyclone at the center of the hall. The guards stumbled back, shielding their faces as banners burned and tapestries were ripped from the walls.

Bing Cao staggered two steps backward, the hem of his robes scorched, his boots smoking.

"Lord Ba Zi..." he coughed, his voice hoarse, "Forgive me. I forgot my place."

Ba Zi, now standing at the steps of his throne, looked completely unfazed. His saber, still aglow, shimmered red—not from the flames alone, but from his rising fury.

"You forget more than your place, Bing Cao," he snarled, slowly returning to his seat. "You forget whose land this is. I defend these provinces not as a favor, but as duty—bestowed upon me by the Emperor himself."

He slammed the saber into its scabbard.

*CLACK!*

The flames vanished instantly, the suffocating heat dissipating as if it had never existed.

Bing Cao fell to one knee, gasping quietly, though his gaze did not waver. His mind spun, not from the heat—but from calculation.

’You let me live... not out of mercy. You want the crypt. You’ll bleed every man to reach it if necessary.’

Ba Zi exhaled slowly.

"Your life is spared... only because the Emperor’s face is too precious to smear with the blood of his own vassals."

"And because, perhaps, you might yet serve a use."

Bing Cao clenched his fists inside his sleeves, teeth grinding silently. Rage flickered behind his old eyes—but wisdom held his tongue still.

Ba Zi leaned back again, reclining like a lion bored with its prey.

"Return to your lord. Tell him... if he desires peace, then prepare his forces for war. The crypt belongs not to weaklings hiding behind advisers."

He waved a hand dismissively.

"Go. Before I change my mind."

Bing Cao stood, chest tight. Every instinct told him to retaliate, to lash out with pride—but the world was not moved by pride alone.

He bowed one last time.

"I shall convey your words exactly, Lord Ba Zi."

As he turned and walked out beneath the shadow of that burning throne, his heart whispered a single truth:

The crypt... is no longer just a relic of history. It is a battlefield, waiting to be ignited."