The sun had now completely set upon the horizon, leaving behind a brilliant skyline of golden orange hues. From where Chinua stood, those vibrant colors felt so impossibly close—as if she could simply reach out her hand and scoop the pure, untainted light right out of the sky. Looking out at the edge of the world gave her a rare sense of warmth. For a fleeting moment, the clean, fresh scent of the mountain pines returned to her, a welcome relief from the heavy stench of iron and blood that stained the soil beneath her boots.
Her eyes lowered from the skyline, drifting across the fractured landscape of damaged and intact rooftops stretched out before her. Down and down her gaze slid, until it finally met the sharp, glittering glare of white spears and the polished gold-and-red armor of the enemy formation waiting less than a hundred yards away.
Chinua looked to her left, then to her right. The captains and soldiers she had ordered into position had successfully breached the once-impregnable North Gate of Kark City, seamlessly flanking her on both sides. Satisfied, she leapt down from the roof of the battering ram to the stone floor below, just as Khunbish, Khenbish, and the surviving soldiers descended the watchtower stairwell.
Khunbish stepped forward, extending a heavy weapon. It was her own iron spear. Chinua took it from his hands, the corner of her lip curling up into a faint, amused smile. She felt a little foolish; she had no idea how, amidst the blood and blinding chaos of the city ramparts, Khunbish had somehow managed to find and recover her beloved weapon.
A single droplet of enemy blood remained wet upon her cheek. Without looking back at her men, her eyes locked dead ahead on the gold-and-red line, she exhaled a long, deep breath.
"Eliminate anyone who refuses to surrender," her voice rang out, loud and harsh.
With her spear gripped tight, she strode forward into the breach. Beside her, the Magoli infantry rushed to flank her, their heavy shields raised in a solid wall of iron, moving through the ruined streets like an angry tide racing to claim the land.
As Chinua and her soldiers closed the distance, the front line of the Paayasian defense revealed itself to be a wall of archers. Anticipating the threat, the Magoli infantry instantly raised their long shields, locking them edge-to-edge just as the first lethal wave of arrows hissed through the air and rained down upon them.
The iron shields held firm. Chinua glanced back over her shoulder and saw that three of the automatic arrow machines had successfully navigated the wreckage of the gate. With a swift wave of her hand, she signaled her front line to split. Responding to her command with practiced precision, the infantry parted, creating three distinct lanes for the weapons.
The machines rolled into the gaps and immediately roared to life. A relentless, mechanical storm of iron-tipped shafts tore through the air, ripping straight into the dense mass of Paayasian soldiers blocking her path.
Within a minute, the machines fell silent to reload, but Chinua gave the enemy no time to breathe.
"Open!" she commanded.
The Magoli shield-wall dissolved, and the infantry surged forward with their swords and spears clenched tight. They tore into the scattered, disoriented remnants of the Paayasian line, ruthlessly cutting down the wounded and the whole alike before the enemy could even attempt to reform their ranks.
The battlefield dissolved into a chaotic swirl of mud, shattered iron, and flashing steel. Chinua moved through the melee with terrifying grace, her iron spear extending her lethal reach. Beside her, Khunbish and Khenbish fought like twin demons, their blades parrying incoming thrusts and carving a path through the gold-and-red armored elites. The Magoli infantry pressed the advantage, their tight formations driving the disoriented Paayasian lines back into the narrow street.
Through the spray of blood and the ringing of clashing metal, Chinua's eyes locked onto a towering figure at the center of the enemy rally point. It was Captain Suxeu, recognizable by the ornate engravings on his breastplate and the ferocious precision of his broadsword. He was roaring orders, desperately trying to reform his men into a defensive wall.
"Chinua!" Khunbish shouted, stepping in to block a spear aimed at her flank, but Chinua was already moving.
She vaulted over a fallen shield, the heavy tip of her iron spear whistling through the air. Suxeu reacted with instinct born of a hundred battles, bringing his broadsword up just in time. The impact of steel against iron sent a shower of sparks into the darkening sky, the shockwave vibrating up both of their arms.
Suxeu gritted his teeth, his eyes wide as he looked into the cold, unyielding face of the Eastern General. "You will go no further, Magoli witch!" he snarled, throwing his weight forward to push her back.
Chinua didn't waste her breath on words. She spun her spear, using the momentum to sweep his blade aside before delivering a rapid succession of strikes. Suxeu was skilled, parrying the first two attacks, but Chinua's speed was relentless—a storm of iron that gave him no room to breathe.
Seeing their captain engaged, a pair of Paayasian soldiers lunged forward to assist him, but Khenbish intercepted them, his twin blades flashing as he drove them back into the crowd. "He is hers!" Khenbish bellowed.
Left with no choice, Suxeu swung his broadsword in a desperate, heavy arc meant to cleave her in two. Chinua sidestepped the massive blade effortlessly. As the weight of the sword carried Suxeu forward, off-balance, Chinua thrust her iron spear straight into the gap beneath his armpiece.
The iron point tore through fabric and flesh, biting deep into Suxeu's right shoulder.
But the distance between Suxeu and Chinua was narrow, and the Paayasian captain was far from finished. Driven by pure survival instinct, Suxeu used his left foot to hook a fallen sword from the dirt, kicking it violently straight at Chinua's face to force a distraction. In the same split second, his uninjured left hand reached down, clawing for a dagger tucked at his waist. With a desperate grunt, he hurled the blade straight at her throat.
The dagger hissed through the air, scratching the side of Chinua's neck before the hilt bounced off her heavy iron shoulder pad.
A sharp, hot line of crimson welled on her skin, but Chinua had no time to bleed. Two Paayasian soldiers instantly rushed her from the right, their weapons raised to exploit the opening. Chinua ripped her iron spear backward, her movements a blur as she pivoted to meet the new threat. With a powerful, sweeping strike, she cut down the two charging soldiers in a single motion.
Behind them, a sharp cry of agony escaped Suxeu's lips as he stumbled backward, his broadsword finally slipping from his numbed fingers. Blood began to rapidly soak through his gold-and-red armor, staining the polished metal a deep, ruinous crimson. He clutched his mangled shoulder, his face turning pale as he realized his strength was failing.
Chinua raised her spear to deliver the final, killing blow, but Suxeu's personal guard threw themselves into the space between them. Three spearmen formed a frantic wall of flesh, sacrifice playing out in their eyes.
"Protect the Captain! Fall back to the inner gate!" one of them screamed.
Bleeding heavily and unable to raise his weapon, Suxeu swallowed his pride. He turned and retreated, supported by his remaining men as they fled down the fracturing street. They sprinted toward the bridge, desperately seeking the safety of the inner-city barracks—the very place where Leej had been taken for medical treatment when the city was first attacked.
Chinua lowered her spear, her eyes tracking Suxeu's bleeding form as he ran. The single droplet of blood on her cheek had finally dried. She did not chase him; she knew there was nowhere left for the vulture to run.
Turning back to her men, she pointed her weapon toward the retreating enemy. "Press forward," she commanded, her voice cutting through the smoke. "Drive them into their cage."
She took a step forward to lead the charge, but a voice halted her.
"Your Highness," Dawa said, stepping into her path and bowing slightly. He looked at Chinua, his eyes burning with the thrill of the chase. "Driving them into their cage is a task beneath Your Highness. Let us do the chasing."
Chinua paused, her mind racing. A heavy silence settled between them. She knew the reputation of the Northern soldiers; if she allowed Dawa and his men to hunt the retreating Paayasians on their own, she feared they would give in to bloodlust and completely ignore her code of war. Yet, if she flatly refused him, she would destroy her own credibility. To govern fairly, she could not judge her own soldiers with open bias. Sending only her personal, most loyal guards would fracture the fragile trust of the Northern units who had chosen to march and bleed under her banner.
Her eyes drifted to another commander. "Captain Bilguun," Chinua called out.
The young captain snapped to attention. "You and your units will go and support Captain Dawa and his men."
Bilguun's lips curved into a sharp smile. "You got it, Chinua." He turned on his heel, striding forward to join Dawa as their combined forces surged down the street toward the inner city.
Chinua watched them go, the heavy iron spear resting in her hand. She turned back to the remaining guards at her side.
"As for us," she said quietly, her eyes sweeping over the carnage. "Let's clean the field."
Watching Dawa and his units disappear into the ruined, smoke-filled streets, Muunokhoi quickly sheathed his sword and rushed to Chinua's side.
"Chinua! Chinua!" he practically whined, grabbing her arm like a nagging child tugging at his mother's sleeve. "Why did you let Dawa and his unit take all the glory of the chase? Why not us?"
"Yeah, I was about to ask the exact same thing," Chaghatai chimed in, crossing his arms.
"Why?" Muunokhoi persisted, shaking her arm slightly.
"I'm actually with Muunokhoi on this one," Terbish admitted, stepping forward. "Have you forgotten?"
"Yeah, have you forgotten?" Od added, his face darkening. "Back when we were in training, they stole our honor by claiming they were the ones who caught those assassins."
"And that's not all," Muunokhoi added bitterly. "They took the credit every single year when we went out to help the villagers."
"They treat us like dirt," Chaghatai spat. "They always give us the hardest, most miserable jobs and leave us with the leftover food."
Chinua blinked, letting out a soft sigh. "Ah... I don't remember any of that."
The men gasped in collective disbelief, staring at her as if she had lost her mind.
"Why do you all remember such small, trivial things?" Chinua asked, a faint smile playing on her lips. "I don't keep those grievances in my heart. Remember what Captain Haitao told us back then? Why waste your energy fighting over petty credit? Besides, you should all be thanking them for looking down on us. Because of that..."
She paused, her gaze drifting warmly over Timicin, Muunokhoi, Od, Terbish, Erden, Chaghatai, and Och. "...Aren't we now Chinua, the General, and her ten most loyal captains—the ones feared by most?"
Timicin reached out and yanked Muunokhoi backward by his armor, causing him to stumble out of Chinua's space. "Muunokhoi, you have terrible vision," Timicin scoffed playfully. "As of right now, we are just unit leaders. We aren't even captains yet." He then looked at Chinua, his eyes shining with ambition. "But after this battle... we are all captains. Right, General?"
"That means Captain Haitao will finally be promoted to General!" Od said, a massive grin breaking across his face.
"Then we'll get a raise, right?" Muunokhoi asked eagerly, his eyes lighting up.
Erden sneered at him, shoving his shoulder. "Why are you always thinking about money?"
"Hey, I originally signed up because of the guaranteed monthly military pay and the free food!" Muunokhoi defended himself.
Chinua burst out laughing, the grim weight of the siege momentarily lifting from her shoulders. Hearing their bickering transported her instantly back to their youth. A vivid image flashed through her mind: a group of young, free-hearted kids walking down a dusty dirt road toward the Northern Military training camp, teasing her and mockingly bowing as they called her "General."
She smiled softly, watching the men continue to joke and jab at one another as they walked toward the shattered city gate.
"It's been more than ten years," a voice spoke up from behind her. Captain Haitao approached, watching the rowdy group with fondness. "And they haven't changed a single bit."
"Some things are meant to never change, regardless of passing years, Captain," Chinua replied, her smile widening.
Suddenly, Timicin turned around and shouted back across the plaza, "Come on, General! This field isn't going to clean itself!"
Chinua looked at the immense carnage surrounding her, and then at the backs of her oldest friends. She was surrounded by the suffocating sadness of death and a literal bath of blood. Yet, looking at the brothers who walked beside her, she knew it was their loyalty that kept her moving forward—stepping toward the future she desperately hoped to change.