Copper King wasn't as clever as Iron King.
That was the conclusion Fyren had drawn.
When realizing there was no escape, Iron King had made the pragmatic choice to join the faction most advantageous to him - even if it only offered temporary safety, it was still preferable to death.
But Copper King was clearly ruled by his emotions. Having been maneuvered by Fyren into this desperate position, he now burned with humiliation. The tragic fate awaiting him was entirely Fyren's doing, so all he could think of now was fighting to the death.
"You've ruined me!" he snarled. "Do you think I'll let you walk away unscathed?"
Fyren shouted back in feigned anger, "Copper King! Are you truly this dense? Use what passes for your brain! Suppose you win here today and kill us all - then what?"
"Then what?"
"Then," Fyren spat, "you and your men will be fugitives with a few miserable millions, running for your wretched lives! The Mighty Syndicate will hunt you like dogs until they drag your corpses back! Do you see any other outcome?"
"This... I..."
"Now consider the alternative. What if you surrendered to me?"
Copper King froze.
"Look at Iron King and his brothers," Fyren commanded.
The three men turned.
It was astonishing what three days could do to transform a man!
Now they stood unified and formidable, each clad in identical tailored suits that screamed wealth and power. Iron King even sported a platinum earring glinting in his newly pierced ear. Their entire bearing had undergone a complete metamorphosis.
By comparison, despite their wealth, the three brothers looked like common street thugs.
Copper King's expression grew inscrutable.
Iron King spoke first: "The young lord is paranoid and cruel to his men. He hoards all the profits for himself - no matter what we contribute, we see no reward. Serving under him means he feasts on meat while we beg for table scraps. How is this any better than being Red Guards for the Mighty Syndicate?"
"Fyren, by contrast, recognizes talent and knows how to use it. He's generous, fair with rewards and punishments. We five brothers serve him without kneeling or groveling - he treats us as equals. Copper King, truth be told, serving the young lord was like being attack dogs sacrificed for his personal ambitions."
"When he's bedding women, do you think he cares how many of our brothers die?"
Copper King glanced back at his two brothers. A single look confirmed their minds were already made.
These past days had been... intoxicating. Never had they known such luxury.
And Iron King's portrayal of Otto made their former master sound monstrous. In truth, they'd never given Otto a chance - all these accusations of paranoia and tyranny were merely justification.
The unspoken message was clear: They weren't traitors. Otto had forced their hand through his misrule.
And in this moment, they chose to believe it - needed to believe it.
Copper King bowed his head. "Fyren... could you grant us some time? We..."
Fyren shook his head. "No. Time's a luxury you don't have. Decide now."
"Very well! We brothers have burned our bridges. Thank you, Fyren, for not casting us aside... We..."
Copper King ground his teeth. "We've made our decision. From this moment forward, we pledge allegiance to Fyren. We beg you to take us under your wing!"
In the villa's main hall, Fyren sat at the head of the table with Chloe massaging his shoulders while Zaring inspected the vehicles outside.
Copper King and Iron King stood before Fyren, their postures slightly bowed.
"Sit," Fyren commanded.
The two exchanged glances and murmured their reluctance.
Fyren chuckled. "I'm not like Otto. I don't stand on ceremony. I'm not your 'young lord' - I'm your boss! Show me the respect due to a superior, nothing more. We're brothers who happen to have a chain of command, not master and servant. Either sit or force me to crane my neck all evening."
They settled onto the sofa, Iron King composed but Copper King fidgeting - the newcomer still adjusting to his changed circumstances.
Fyren's expression turned grave. "Silver King should be arriving soon. What do you know of him?"
Their startled gazes met.
"It's... it's really him?"
Fyren smiled. "Undoubtedly. Don't ask how I know - I simply do. First I need his background, then we'll devise how to handle him."
Copper King hesitated. "Fyren, may I ask..."
"Just 'Fyren' suffices."
"Yes, Fyren. I don't understand - you've thwarted Otto's plans repeatedly. Why hasn't he moved against you?"
"At first," Fyren mused, "arrogance blinded him. He dismissed me as insignificant, easily crushed."
"But later we became sworn brothers. Technically that makes us oath-bound siblings. He dares not kill me directly - if he wants me dead, he'll need cat's-paws."
Understanding dawned on Copper King's face.
To modern sensibilities, this logic would seem absurd.
But to men like Copper King, it made perfect sense. In their martial world, one obeyed its ancient codes - even when breaking them required plausible deniability.
Like ancient governors rebelling "for justice" while coveting thrones, none foolish enough to declare "I want to be emperor" outright. That path led only to becoming everyone's target - as the Three Kingdoms' Yuan Shu learned when his premature imperial claim turned even stray dogs against him.
Why? Because he violated the rules and forfeited the moral high ground.
I don't even need personal grievances against you. Simply by raising the banner of "Restoring the Han Dynasty and Eliminating Traitors," I can oppose you with righteous justification.
This was precisely why Fyren always emphasized his sworn brotherhood with Otto when meeting martial artists.
At the very least, it meant Otto couldn't move against him openly.
As for underhanded schemes? He'd cross that bridge when it came.
"Silver King is different from us," Copper King said hesitantly. "He's... extraordinarily powerful."
"How powerful?"
"He might already have reached the peak level of Central Quadportal."
The Central Quadportal system had four tiers.
Iron King occupied the beginner level, Copper King the intermediate. Beyond that... each tier represented a different realm.
Simply put, below intermediate level, lower-tier practitioners could occasionally defeat higher-tier opponents.
Such occurrences were rare, but not unheard of.
However, beyond intermediate level, the power differential became overwhelming - an insurmountable gulf.
An intermediate defeating a beginner might require an extended duel before emerging victorious.
But a high-level practitioner could typically dispatch anyone below intermediate with a single strike.
The power disparity was so terrifying it left victims no chance to retaliate.
Even if you managed one counterattack, the high-level practitioner would simply deliver another finishing blow!
Fyren could see from their expressions that Silver King's might made Copper King and Iron King tremble with primal fear.
"Does he have any weaknesses?" Fyren asked.
Iron King gave a bitter smile. "If I knew his weaknesses, I wouldn't be Iron King. And even if I did, we lack the strength to exploit them."
Fyren understood perfectly.
Though these two had pledged allegiance, their loyalty remained shaky.
To them, Fyren was just a rich heir, while Otto and the Mighty Syndicate loomed like vast, unfathomable icebergs.
Their service to Fyren was born of desperation, not choice.
Given any alternative, any path back to Otto's fold, they'd abandon Fyren without hesitation.
Thus, news of Silver King's imminent arrival terrified them to their cores.
Fyren smiled faintly. "I'm not asking about martial weaknesses. Tell me about his personality - his preferences, what he values and disregards..."
The two exchanged glances. Copper King scratched his head. "Silver King earns a million annually. Money isn't his concern."
This drew laughter from Fyren. "A million makes him immune to financial temptation?"
Iron King added, "Besides, he's unmarried and sworn brothers with Gold King."
Fyren nodded. "Anything else?"
Both shook their heads.
"Don't worry," Fyren chuckled. "I'll bring him to heel."
In unison they chanted: "Fyren's brilliant strategies will surely subdue Silver King."
Though Fyren's martial skills paled next to theirs, his ability to read people and situations surpassed them completely.
Years in the business world had honed this skill - if he couldn't detect the hidden doubts in their flattery, he might as well retire.
Their mouths praised Fyren while their hearts harbored doubt - this seemed impossible.
That Iron King had been deceived was astonishing enough.
If Copper King switched allegiance again, it would stretch credulity.
Surely even the Mighty Syndicate couldn't be foolish enough to repeat the same mistake thrice!
Subduing Silver King appeared monumentally difficult, bordering on impossible.
They half-expected Silver King to slaughter them all upon arrival, ending this farce.
"My martial arts," Fyren asked calmly, "what's your honest assessment?"
The two hastily replied, "Young Lord's skills are peerless, your talent extraordinary, unmatched in the martial world—"
"Enough!" Fyren cut them off. "To you, my abilities resemble a child playing in mud. I'm well aware."
They couldn't refute this, their expressions turning sheepish.
Fyren leaned forward with a knowing smile. "Then why follow me now?"
Understanding dawned.
"Fyren's brilliance lies in strategy! Even world-ending power yields before his intellect!"
"Here's my wager," Fyren said. "Should I fail to subdue Silver King, you each receive a billion dollars and freedom. Should I succeed... well, we'll await Gold King's return together."
Iron King, more familiar with Fyren, brightened. "You've already devised a plan?"
"Not quite a plan... but an approach."
Fyren gestured them closer.
As they leaned in, his whispered words made their faces drain of color. They stared at him as though beholding a demon.
"You're truly wicked, Fyren!" Copper King blurted.
Iron King's voice trembled near tears: "Fyren... are you the devil himself?"