The rain of ash had stopped, but the smoke still clung to the shattered streets like a shroud.
Bliang's boots dragged across the cobblestones, leaving a jagged, crimson smear in the grey dust. Every breath felt like inhaling broken glass; the deep gash across his shoulder and ribs burned with a white-hot intensity that threatened to pull him into blackness. He wouldn't last another mile. He knew it, and the men with him knew it.
To his right, the steady, rhythmic scrape of steel offered a grim anchor—a soldier, teeth bared and eyes scanning the rooftops, his blade held low and ready. To his left, another soldier flanked him in lockstep, his sword catching the dull, filtered light of a dying sun, a silent barrier between their commander and the predatory shadows of the ruined city.
"Hold on, captain. Just a little further," muttered the third soldier. The man's shoulder was wedged firmly under Bliang's arm, bearing half his weight, his uniform already soaked through with Bliang's blood.
They forged deeper toward the inner city, a desperate vanguard retreating into a graveyard.
The silence here was louder than the battle they had just fled. The wide avenues of the lower district were unrecognizable, choked with the debris of collapsed masonry and the still, sprawling shapes of civilians who hadn't run fast enough. The air tasted of copper and charred wood.
As they lunged past a row of hollowed-out townhouses, Bliang raised his heavy eyelids. Strips of white cloth hung limp from the doorframes and iron knockers—the desperate, universal plea for mercy or the marking of houses where no one was left alive to fight. They fluttered like ghost wings in the dead air.
Behind them, a distant horn wailed, signaling the enemy's advance. The soldier supporting Bliang tightened his grip, hoisting him higher.
"They're closing in," the left flanker whispered, his knuckles white on his hilt.
Bliang didn't answer. He just tightened his jaw, clamped a hand over his bleeding side, and forced his feet to move forward into the heart of the dying capital.
Bliang knew that with his severe injuries and his men running on foot, the mounted Magoli soldiers would catch up to them in no time. This exact stretch of road was a path he had walked every single day—a distance of less than a thousand steps from the inner bridge. But right now, with his body broken and blood rapidly draining from his veins, those thousand steps felt like miles away.
His vision began to blur into a hazy, dark fog. As he forced his head to turn to the left, he saw the dreaded Magoli flags rising in the distance, flying rapidly toward his position. The thunderous, rhythmic drumming of approaching hooves echoed through the streets—but it wasn't coming from the north.
Through the haze, Bliang spotted a flash of blue tassels dancing wildly in the wind.
The realization hit him like a physical blow. The city was completely lost. They were already prisoners of war inside their own walls, because the South Gate of Kark had also been breached. The Magoli had them surrounded.
A grim, breathless chuckle escaped his lips twice before the darkness finally claimed him, and his head slumped forward.
"Captain!" the soldier on Bliang's right cried out.
He lunged forward to support Bliang's wounded side. Working in a frantic, sweating panic, the two remaining guards grabbed hold of their commander's limp form, dragging his unconscious body across the stone bridge toward the inner-city gate. Above them, a frantic Paayasian sentry spotted their approach and threw open a small, heavy side door. With a final, desperate heave, the soldiers hauled Bliang's body through the threshold and slammed it shut behind them—locking themselves into the inner city, the absolute last keep of Kark City.
"Call the doctor!" the soldier screamed through the chaotic press of surrounded civilians and panicked infantrymen alike. "Give us way! Clear a path!"
The crowd of civilians and soldiers parted in a frantic rush as two of the guards dragged Bliang's limp, unconscious body down the corridor toward the main room of the military quarters. The third soldier followed them closely, his hand braced on his weapon.
The trapped civilians stood watch, their wide, terrified eyes tracking the dark trail of blood smeared across the stone floor. Looking at that crimson line, a heavy, suffocating realization settled over the crowd: there was nowhere left to run. The Magoli forces had completely surrounded them. The faces of the men darkened with grim despair, while the women and children wept quietly in the shadows, realizing the horrific end of their fate.
By now, less than two hours of daylight remained before the sky would completely change. The horses dragging the heavy carriage came to a halt right before the shattered ruins of the gate. Hye peered out, looking at the immense carnage stretched before him. For a brief moment, he felt a little overwhelmed by the sheer volume of blood painting the streets and the piles of bodies blocking his path.
"Sir Hye," a soldier called out from the front. "We will have to walk from here if you still insist on entering the city."
Hye placed his empty cup down on the small table inside the carriage. He quickly rolled up his detailed map of Kark City, tucking it securely into the inner folds of his robe, before standing up and leaping down from the wagon.
"Find a decent military estate that is still intact and prepare my bed for me," he instructed with a casual smile, before turning to walk through the carnage, deeper into the city.
"Hye! Wait for me!" Azad shouted. He quickly dismounted his horse and rushed to chase after him.
"Kid, I don't need you shadowing me," Hye said without slowing down. "I am fairly certain that by now, Chinua has this entire section of the city firmly under her control."
"Even under the most well-controlled areas, there are still dangers lurking in the shadows. You said so yourself," Azad countered, matching his stride.
Hye chuckled softly. "You've grown, and your ability to throw my own words back at me surprises me," he teased.
The two men walked side-by-side down the ruined avenue, watching the Magoli soldiers clean the field. The infantrymen were carefully collecting their fallen brothers while leaving the bodies of the Payapasian soldiers and civilians where they lay in the dirt.
Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Hye caught a glimpse of a shadow darting toward the back of a nearby house. He paused, stepping toward the mouth of the alley to investigate, but Azad quickly intercepted him, halting his advance.
"Where are you going?" Azad asked, his eyes narrowing.
"I saw something move over there," Hye replied, gesturing toward the shadows.
Azad stepped forward, drawing his weapon with practiced ease. He cautiously navigated around the perimeter of the house, scanning the corners before returning to the street.
"I don't see anyone," Azad reported, sheathing his blade halfway.
"Perhaps I was mistaken," Hye said smoothly.
"Wait here. Timicin and the others are just over there," Azad said, pointing toward a squad pulling dead Payapasian soldiers from the road. "Let me go ask them where Chinua is."
Azad jogged off toward Timicin's unit. Hye watched him go, but the moment he turned his back, a sudden surge of cold steel was pressed hard against the side of his neck.
"Scream and you die," a rough voice hissed in his ear.
A heavy hand gripped the back of Hye's collar, violently dragging him three houses down the lane and tossing him into a dark, cramped firewood shed.
Hye crashed hard against a pile of chopped wood, the timber scattering around him. Gathering himself, he wiped the dust from his face and looked up. Standing in the doorway was a Payapasian soldier, completely drenched in blood, pointing a trembling, scarlet-stained sword directly at Hye's face.
"You aren't a soldier, so you must be a doctor, right?" the Payapasian soldier demanded, his voice thick with panic and exhaustion.
Hye looked at the blade, then up at the desperate soldier. A calm smile broke across his face, showing absolutely no fear despite the weapon hovering inches from his eyes.
"Either," Hye replied softly.
Out on the street, Timicin hauled a heavy, dead Paayasian soldier off the body of a fallen Magoli infantryman, wiping the sweat from his brow just as he noticed Azad sprinting toward him.
"What's the rush?" Timicin asked, dropping the limp arms of the Paayasian corpse.
"Where is Chinua?" Azad demanded, out of breath.
Timicin scoffed, scanning the chaotic expanse of the plaza. "Look, young chief," he teased playfully. "Everyone out here is wearing the exact same armor. Who knows where Chinua is right now? But if I had to guess, if you can find Captain Haitao, that's where she'll be."
"Heh—aren't you supposed to be guarding Sir Hye?" Muunokhoi chimed in, leaning on his spear as he peered past Azad's shoulder.
"Don't tell us you lost him," Erden joked, causing the other six unit leaders to break into a sudden chorus of laughter.
"It's not funny," Azad snapped, his face growing pale. "He was standing right there by that townhouse—"
Azad spun around, pointing back toward the exact spot where he had left Hye a mere minute ago, only to find an empty, darkening street. Panic seized him. His heart began to race violently against his ribs as he took a worried step forward.
"He was just right there. Where the hell is he?" Azad sprinted blindly back toward the house, which was less than a hundred yards away.
"That... doesn't seem like a joke," Od observed, his laughter fading as he rested a hand on his hip, watching Azad frantically search the empty lane.
"Yeah," Terbish agreed, his smile vanishing. "Azad looks entirely serious."
Realizing something was wrong, the men quickly chased after the young warrior. By the time they reached the mouth of the narrow street, Azad rushed back toward them, his face darkened with terror.
"Hye... Hye's gone," Azad said, his chest heaving as his heart hammered in panic.
"Gone? What do you mean gone?" Chaghatai demanded.
"Missing! He was standing right here where I'm standing!" Azad cried.
"This is not good. Spread out and look for him immediately," Timicin commanded, his casual demeanor instantly shifting into military alertness.
"What if he was taken?" Och gasped, looking around the eerie shadows of the alleyways.
Muunokhoi glared at him. "Why do you always say things that lower our morale?"
"What's going on here, soldiers?" Jochi's voice cut through their panic.
Jochi and Bolor, followed closely by their respective units, halted their march directly in front of the gathered men.
"Sir Hye is missing," Azad explained frantically. "We are searching the area for him right now."
"Sir Hye?" Bolor repeated indifferently. For a fleeting second, a small surge of satisfaction warmed Bolor's heart. He looked over at Jochi, lowering his voice. "Is that so... Well, let's keep moving then."
Jochi paused, a silent, heavy debate raging within his mind. Part of him wanted to ignore the search entirely, given the strange, deep-seated animosity Hye had consistently shown toward him. But as he looked at the anxious faces of Chinua's inner circle, a deeper realization struck him. They were all fighting for the same cause, bleeding under the same banner, and serving the exact same commander. Whatever hidden grievance Hye harbored against him would have to be resolved sooner or later—even if Jochi still had absolutely no idea why the strategist hated him so much and constantly looked for fault in him.
Perhaps, if he seized this chance, put in the effort, and chose to be the bigger man by helping them find him, the hatred Hye carried might finally lessen. They were brothers in arms now, serving Chinua for the greater good of the Hmagol Kingdom. There was no room for petty hatred or misunderstandings in this war.
"Let's go find Sir Hye," Jochi declared firmly.
"Wha—what?"
Bolor's jaw dropped open in utter disbelief, and the surrounding soldiers stared at Jochi in identical shock. Everyone in the army knew that Hye possessed a fierce disdain for the Northern soldiers—and for Jochi most of all. Yet here Jochi was, leading the hunt to save him.
Inside the cramped shed, the only thing still clearly visible in the encroaching dark was the cold, gleaming blade held by the young Paayasian soldier. Hye maintained his calm smile, watching as the young man's lips trembled, his hand shaking violently against the hilt of his weapon.
Suddenly, in the far corner of the shed, a pile of dry hay was slowly pushed aside. A young woman began to crawl out into the open space.
Hye's gaze drifted down to her. Her face was deathly pale, as if every ounce of blood had been drained from her body. She was using every shred of strength she possessed just to inch her way toward them, her left hand clutching desperately at her swollen abdomen.
"Ah Chong..." she whimpered, crying out in sheer agony.
Hye looked from the trembling young soldier back to the agonizing woman on the dirt floor. As he did, he noticed a tiny, delicate hand reaching out from the shadows, grabbing tightly onto the hem of the woman's skirt.
"Is she in labor?" Hye asked firmly, his voice dropping its casual tone. "Is there another child hiding behind her?"
He began to shift his weight to stand up, but the young man instantly lunged forward, pressing the cold tip of his sword straight against Hye's throat.
"Move and you die!" the young man warned, his voice cracking with a mixture of terror and fierce protectiveness.
"Captain!" a muffled voice called out from the street, not far from their hiding place. "Sir Hye is not over there!"
"Let's check those three houses over there," Jochi's distinct voice echoed through the walls of the shed. "Make sure to look inside every single structure, whether they have a white cloth hanging or not."
Damn you, lower-life Jochi, Hye muttered bitterly to himself.
He looked back up at the young soldier. From the raw, desperate panic burning in the youth's eyes, Hye could easily tell that the laboring woman and the hidden child were this boy's family.
"Your wife and your child?" Hye asked softly, his voice striking an unexpected chord of empathy. "If you want them—and yourself—to survive this night, lower your weapon and surrender now. Otherwise, you will all die together in this room."
Right then, the woman let out another sharp, agonizing scream of labor pain. Outside, the heavy, rhythmic thudding of military boots immediately pivoted, rushing directly toward the shed.
Hye knew Jochi's reputation all too well. He knew how ruthless the Northern units could be when it came to civilian lives; they had slaughtered surrendered innocents in Nue-Li City countless times. Even if they were serving under Chinua's strict banner during this campaign, old habits died hard. He couldn't risk Jochi's men bursting in here with drawn blades.
"If you and your family want to live through this war, move aside," Hye commanded.
Raising a single index finger, Hye calmly tapped the flat of the blade, pushing the sharp tip away from his throat. He stood up and began walking deliberately toward the wooden door. Before he reached for the handle, he paused and turned back one last time. A tiny, frightened face was peeking out from behind the laboring woman's back.
Hye's expression softened, and he offered a warm, reassuring smile to the terrified little child.
"Don't be scared," he murmured gently. "Nothing will happen to you."
With a swift, decisive motion, Hye opened the door, stepped out into the open air, and pulled it firmly shut behind him. The moment his boots hit the cobblestones, he was instantly met by the grim, imposing sight of Jochi, Bolor, and their heavily armed units, completely surrounding the small wooden shed just as the last light of day bled into pitch black night.