The rain fell in crooked streaks across the stone lanes of Crescent Moon City, running like thin veins of mercury beneath the lantern light. The once-bustling streets were near silent, emptied of merchants and chatter alike.
Only the patrols of the Wu clan moved through the gloom now. The guards were clad in black-armor, iron-faced, with the sigil of a coiled serpent emblazoned upon every breastplate.
From an abandoned watchtower above the southern gate, Yuan Cai watched them pass, his breathing steady despite the ache in his shoulder where the wound still festered. The once-polished armor of the city's Vice-Captain of the Eastern Wall now hung in tatters beside him, its lacquer scorched and dented.
Its insignia scratched beyond recognition, he had been in hiding for three days.
