177: Chapter 177 Various tribes harbor resentment and secretly plot.

Morning light slanted across the corridor of the Eastern Wasteland Alliance Council Hall, casting three shadows of varying lengths onto the blue stone floor.

Elder Zhao walked in the lead, his robe sweeping over a sunken brick crevice, causing him to pause for a heartbeat.

Without looking back, he said in a low voice, "No one is following us."

The Red Ridge Deputy Commander gave a muffled grunt, his hand resting on the hilt of the blade at his waist. "Even rats don't go to that place. A fine nest you've chosen."

The Sand Clan Elder trailed a step behind, his fingertips brushing against a cluster of Iron-Bone Pine shoots sprouting from a wall crevice. He rubbed them, and the withered leaves crumbled into powder, leaking through his fingers.

"The old apothecary has been in ruins for three years. The Spiritual Qi flows are chaotic, and sound transmission arrays can't penetrate, making it the perfect place to talk."

The three turned into a side alley. The stone steps were wet and slippery, and where the wall plaster had peeled away, charred wooden beams were exposed.

The door was ajar. When Elder Zhao pushed it open, the smell of rotting wood mixed with the scent of aged medicinal dregs rushed out to meet them.

The room was dim, illuminated only by a few shafts of daylight filtering through a broken window high up, revealing overturned Pill Furnaces, shattered Jade Slips, and a split-open medicine cabinet in the corner.

"Sit," Elder Zhao said, kicking aside an empty ceramic jar and sitting on the only intact stone stool. "If we keep standing, people outside might think we're actually loyal."

The Red Ridge Deputy Commander looked around and sneered. "Loyalty? Who was it that slammed the table at the meeting yesterday demanding thirty percent of the star-patterned stone? Now you're acting all high and mighty."

The Sand Clan Elder didn't respond. He closed the door behind him and took a yellow talisman from his sleeve, sticking it to the door crack. With a light tap of his fingertip, the talisman paper instantly turned to ash, silently merging into the wood grain.

Only then did he slowly sit down. "I never said I wanted to split the mine. I was talking about the public treasury—Article Seven of the Alliance charter states that thirty percent of major spoils must be contributed to the public fund. The Chen family tore up the rules in public. Aren't you angry?"

"Angry?" Elder Zhao sneered. "Can I reason with a lunatic who wears black armor and iron eyes? With one sentence, he dug up our stance from three years ago and slapped it across our faces like a glove. Is that not ruthless enough?"

"Stop acting innocent," the Red Ridge Deputy Commander glared. "Who was the one who said 'don't wade into muddy waters' back then? Now that you haven't reaped any benefits, you're suddenly resentful?"

"I'm not resentful because I didn't get a share." Elder Zhao looked up sharply, his eyes bloodshot. "I hate that he treats us all like trash! What is this nonsense about 'if you can't cross the technical threshold, you're just a pile of scrap metal'? My Chuanyun Sect has had three generations of talisman masters, and in his mouth, we don't even have the qualifications to look at the blueprints!"

The room fell silent for a moment.

The Sand Clan Elder tapped his knee gently. "That is why we are gathered here. It is not to fight for a bite to eat, but to ensure that one person does not trample the entire Eastern Wasteland under his feet."

The Red Ridge Deputy Commander stared at him. "What do you want to do? Lead people to attack them? He has a mech squad, a Sword Cultivator regiment, and that pack of mad-dog engineers under him. Are we supposed to smash our heads against that?"

"We won't fight," the Sand Clan Elder shook his head. "We won't raise a hand, nor will we utter a word of insult. We will make him fall on his own."

Elder Zhao narrowed his eyes. "Explain."

"What does the Chen family rely on to stand tall right now?" The Sand Clan Elder held up a finger. "First, mechs. Second, foreign aid. The mechs are something he concocted himself, so they're hard to shake in the short term. But the foreign aid—"

The corners of his mouth lifted slightly. "I heard the Angel Race caravan just left. Will there be others coming next?"

"There are rumors," Elder Zhao's eyes flickered. "There is a Leiyin Pavilion in the Northern Territory that has always wanted to open up a trade route to the Eastern Wasteland."

"Then let's make sure that route is severed at the doorstep." The Sand Clan Elder lowered his voice. "I don't believe Aelia left so cleanly. The star map interfaces and communication frequencies she left behind—the Chen family must be using them."

"As long as we make contact with the people from Leiyin Pavilion beforehand and tell them that 'the Chen family cannot be trusted,' 'the cooperation terms are harsh,' and 'they hog all the spoils,' do you think those merchants will still come?"

The Red Ridge Deputy Commander frowned. "But what if they don't believe us?"

"Then we give them proof." The Sand Clan Elder took a broken jade piece from his bosom. "This is a duplicate of yesterday's meeting record, which I secretly copied. It contains Chen Wuwang saying with his own mouth that 'not a single screw will enter the public treasury.' Merchants love hearing things like that—those who eat alone are bound to be besieged."

Elder Zhao was silent for a moment, then suddenly laughed. "Brilliant. If they don't come, who will buy the Chen family's new mechs? Without external resources, what will he use to feed so many mouths?"

"When his own internal affairs explode, we will make trouble at the meeting, accuse him of undermining the unity of the Alliance, and force him to hand over the leadership."

"That's not all." The Sand Clan Elder slowly stood up, walked to the wall, picked up a broken talisman brush, and drew a simple formation on the ground. "At the next council meeting, I will propose the establishment of a 'Technical Oversight Committee,' where representatives from each clan will review all of the Chen family's technological output."

"It will be support in name, but in reality, it's about planting eyes. Every time they build a mech, we will know the source of the Materials, the energy ratios, and the core algorithms—even if we don't understand them, we can still drag out their progress."

The Red Ridge Deputy Commander's breathing grew heavy as he listened. "That move is ruthless."

"It's still not enough." Elder Zhao stood up. "I can contact the West Ridge Seven Sects; they have long been unable to stand the Chen family's ways. We can have them submit a joint petition demanding a re-examination of the 'Alliance Governance Regulations.' Once the rules are shaken, we don't have to worry about him not bowing his head."

The three exchanged glances. The air was thick with long-suppressed restlessness.

The Sand Clan Elder nodded. "That's it for now. The three of us will return separately and act as if nothing is wrong. Elder Zhao will contact your old subordinates, the Red Ridge Deputy Commander will keep an eye on surrounding anomalies, and I will be responsible for contacting the foreign caravans. No one is allowed to act alone, and not a single word is to be leaked."

"What if the Chen family notices?" the Red Ridge Deputy Commander asked.

"He won't notice," Elder Zhao sneered. "He's currently busy playing god; how could he see people digging pits under his feet? Besides—" He glanced at the darkening sky outside the door. "Does he think marking a few people can prevent arrows in the dark? Marks don't kill people."

The Sand Clan Elder took a pinch of incense powder from his sleeve and scattered it in the center of the room. With a flick of his fingertip, a spark leaped up, and the fragrance rose in curling wisps, carrying a faint scent of bitter sandalwood. The three gathered around the fire, stacking their palms on the ground.

"The words of today shall not leave this room."

"If anyone breaks this oath, heaven and earth shall punish us together."

"Advance and retreat together, live and die together."

The flame flickered once and extinguished.

Before the ashes had dispersed, the three had already risen from their seats. Elder Zhao took one last look at this dilapidated place and said in a low voice, "Tomorrow I will send someone with the first list of contacts. Remember, don't be impatient; take it one step at a time."

The door opened and closed again.

The night wind blew through the empty room, lifting a few broken Jade Slips on the floor, on which the words "star-patterned stone Allocation Plan" were faintly visible.

In the distance, the lights of the city walls lit up one by one. The Spiritual Qi mist over the Chen family's factory area continued to rise, and the sounds of forging could be heard faintly.

And in the south, north, and west of the city, three figures disappeared into the streets and alleys.

One spread out a secret letter under a lamp, one burned a note in a courtyard, and the other stood on a rooftop gazing into the distance, holding a newly received encrypted transmission talisman in their hand.

The wind blew from all directions, carrying dust and whispers.

The storm had not yet risen, but the roots were already spreading quietly underground.

The Sand Clan Elder returned to the inner hall of his residence, dismissed his attendants, and sat quietly with his eyes closed.

His fingertips tapped lightly on his knees—once, twice, three times.

A slight sound came from the next room, but he didn't even lift his eyelids.

A moment later, a dark shadow dropped from the rafters and knelt on the ground.

"It has been found," the person said in a low voice. "The Leiyin Pavilion mission will arrive in seven days."