The Demon Lords-Chapter 629 - 110 Funeral_2

Zheng Fan understood clearly. This was Blindman leaving himself a safety net. For the Demon Kings, this was just a game. Since it was a game, winning or losing didn't matter as long as he and his men didn't die. Everything else was unimportant and dispensable. However, if they lost this gamble, Shengle City would truly go bankrupt. Then, they would need to change their way of playing.

Zheng Fan stroked the back of his hand and slowly said, "Wait and see."

...

Finally, the Eldest Prince had entered the city.

All factions were anxiously waiting for the Eldest Prince to enter Ying Capital City.

Yet, the Eldest Prince had always been as unflappable as an old hound.

He didn't exude the vitality of youth; instead, when it came to warfare, he was more like a somber old fox.

With every step his army took, they made thorough preparations. Their coordination with the local populace and allied troops was meticulously handled.

Occasional provocations from renegade forces and the wild people were all repelled by the troops under the Eldest Prince's command.

After the rebels suffered that major defeat, although the new king, Situ Yi, had granted numerous official positions, the morale of those who could genuinely fight, and indeed that capable contingent itself, was almost entirely depleted. The wild people, on the other hand, seemed to be merely going through the motions.

Rather than seeking to incite conflict, they seemed to be urging the Eldest Prince: "Hurry up, Your Highness, don't be so slow. Enter Ying Capital City quickly, so we can proceed to the next step."

Many within Ying Capital City—civil officials, military officers, nobles, and commoners alike—were eagerly awaiting the arrival of the 'heaven-sent' prince. They were anxious to know what arrangements the new ruler had in store for them.

It was like the agonizing wait for exam results to be released, making people as restless as ants on a hot pan.

Perhaps the most awkward aspect was that, because the Eldest Prince had not yet arrived, Li Bao, who had reached Ying Capital City first, only controlled the eastern gate. His main army remained stationed outside the city, showing no intention of interfering with the internal politics of Cheng State.

Therefore, the casket of Situ Lei, the late emperor of Cheng, was still in the royal palace. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

The new king, Situ Yu, merely ten years of age, had spent these past days mourning his father, neglecting any so-called state affairs. The Prime Minister, Sun Youdao, could only barely maintain order within Ying Capital City and prevent it from collapsing into chaos.

Everyone, in fact, was striving to maintain the status quo, waiting for the arrival of the one truly qualified to take charge.

Finally, the Eldest Prince arrived.

Today, it rained in Ying Capital City.

But along the road from the city entrance to the main palace gate, both sides were packed with local people.

From the lowest commoner to the highest noble, everyone hoped that after this rain, a new beginning would await them.

The wild people, the oppressive gloom, all of it—they wished for it all to be swept away completely.

The city still carried the palpable scent of blood because, before Situ Lei made his final desperate stand, a great purge had been carried out within the capital.

He had done everything in his power. The situation he left behind wasn't ideal, but it wasn't entirely terrible either.

The Eldest Prince felt this keenly. A capital that was frightened yet not chaotic was incredibly important for the upcoming war. It was tantamount to providing Yan State with a stable rear for its military operations.

The Pixiu beneath the Eldest Prince was newly matured, its black fur and disdainful eyes showcasing its inherent untamable spirit.

Unlike his mount, the Eldest Prince himself showed no arrogance befitting an "envoy of the Celestial Empire." He was calm, and the armored soldiers behind him also appeared exceptionally solemn.

The commander of the vanguard was Li Bao, not Li Fusheng. This was the Eldest Prince's arrangement, as everyone knew Li Fusheng's disposition. He was a general who reveled in killing and tasting blood; letting him take sole charge of this populous capital city was far too risky.

Now, Li Fusheng followed behind the Eldest Prince.

Li Bao, however, had not entered the city with them. With the main army stationed outside, someone with real authority needed to remain.

The people of Cheng State lining the roads did not show excessive enthusiasm towards this prince of the Ji Family. Most of them were still predominantly filled with uncertainty.

Had the Cheng State, the Situ Family, truly met its end?

Many only truly realized this at this moment. The endless rows of knights in black armor and their black dragon flags all proclaimed the change of ownership of this great city.

The gates of the imperial palace had long been thrown open. The Imperial Guard of Cheng State knelt neatly on the ground.

They made no attempt to provoke the dignity of this Yan Prince, nor did they try any more foolish maneuvers. These past days had been an ordeal for them as well.

The standstill within the palace, the stagnation of government affairs, and all the various tensions inside and outside the city, both within the palace and without, made them jump at every shadow.

Now, it was time for relief.

From Yan State's initial voluntary ceasefire, to Lord Jingnan's expedition to the snow plains, coupled with Situ Lei's prior arrangements and the tone set by that great victory—it was precisely because of all this groundwork that this transfer of sovereignty could now proceed so smoothly, as if "going with the flow."

Perhaps, in the corner of a tavern or the side room of a private school, young scholars were drowning their sorrows while old teachers drank alone.

In their wine flowed the last vestiges of nostalgia for their fallen homeland.

In unnoticed corners of military garrisons, in the courtyards of military families, within the residences of the Situ family's scions, some were also practicing their swordsmanship, venting the resentment that threatened to overflow from their entire beings.

There were indeed many who were unwilling,

But their unwillingness,