The twenty remaining Drakemoor soldiers no longer tried to fight. They retreated slowly toward the edge of the village, their eyes never leaving Li Yuan, who stood in the middle of a sea of corpses like a king from a kingdom of death.
Colonel Blackthorne, who had been leading from the back of the line, finally stepped forward. His black armor was cracked in several places, his sword was still drawn but his hand was trembling. The scar on his cheek looked deeper in the dimming afternoon light.
"Enough," he said in a voice that tried to sound authoritative, though a tremor of fear was clearly audible. "We're retreating. You win."
Li Yuan turned toward him, the eyes of the abyss looking at the Colonel with something resembling curiosity.
"Retreat?" Li Yuan laughed—a sound that was cold and sharp like metal scraping. "After you came to kill my family? After you threatened to burn their homes?"
He stepped forward, each step leaving a trail of fresh blood.
"There is no retreat. There is no forgiveness. You will die here. ALL OF YOU."
But then something strange happened.
From the east, the sound of approaching hoofbeats could be heard. Not the sound of a few horses, but the sound of hundreds of horses moving in a military formation.
The remaining Drakemoor soldiers turned with expressions that changed from despair to hope. Colonel Blackthorne smiled faintly.
"Reinforcements," he whispered with relief. "Finally."
Li Yuan didn't move, but in his Zhenjing, he felt something unsettling. The vibration of the ground beneath his feet, the sound of clashing metal, and most chilling of all... the scent of death coming from a different direction.
More, he realized. They brought more soldiers.
From behind the hills to the east of the village, a sight emerged that made the blood of the remaining men of Millbrook run cold. Two hundred mounted knights in full armor, followed by a hundred foot soldiers, and in the middle of them, a large war standard fluttered—the red dragon of Drakemoor with eyes that gleamed like rubies.
In front of the formation, a man in golden armor rode a large white warhorse. Even from a distance, his aura felt different—this was no ordinary soldier. This was someone who had witnessed thousands of battles and won them all.
"General Aldric Ravencrest," Colonel Blackthorne whispered in a tone of respect and relief. "He has come."
Thomas Aldrich, who was sitting with both of his arms shattered, looked at the approaching new army with eyes full of despair.
"Three hundred," he whispered in a voice that was barely audible. "Yuan... how can we fight three hundred?"
Li Yuan didn't answer. He looked at the approaching army with the eyes of the abyss that were... strangely calm. There was no fear there. No doubt.
Only cold acceptance.
So this is what the world demands, he thought with a terrible clarity. Not just a battle against seventy. But a war against hundreds.
Fine. If that's what the world wants, I will give it to them.
David Miller, who was still lying down with his hand pressing on his protruding intestines, tried to get up.
"Yuan," he said in a weak voice. "We... we have to run. We can't—"
"Run where?" Li Yuan asked without turning. "They will chase. They will find us. And then they will do the same thing to the next village."
The Drakemoor army stopped in a perfect formation about fifty meters from the village square. General Ravencrest dismounted his horse with an elegant but deadly motion.
He was a middle-aged man with short-cropped gray hair, blue eyes as cold as ice, and a scar that ran from his left temple to his jaw. When he walked, every soldier around him instinctively backed away—not out of fear, but out of a deep respect.
"Colonel Blackthorne," his voice was deep and authoritative, thundering in the afternoon air. "Report the situation."
The surviving Colonel knelt, though his body was trembling from his wounds.
"General, we... we encountered unexpected resistance. That man," he pointed at Li Yuan, "he... he's not an ordinary human."
General Ravencrest looked at Li Yuan with sharp eyes, assessing the threat with the experience of a veteran of thousands of battles.
"One man," he said in a flat tone. "One man against seventy of my trained soldiers."
"Yes, General. Fifty-five of our men have been killed."
A chilling silence fell over the square. Even the new soldiers who had arrived seemed shocked to hear that number.
General Ravencrest stepped forward, his eyes never leaving Li Yuan.
"Impressive," he said in an almost admiring tone. "Very impressive. But the game is over."
He raised his hand, and three hundred soldiers simultaneously raised their weapons—swords, spears, bows, even a few portable ballistas they had brought.
"You have killed my men," the General continued in a cold voice. "For that, you will die. But because I appreciate your ability, I will give you a choice."
Li Yuan finally spoke, his voice calm in the tense atmosphere.
"What choice?"
"Kill yourself now, and I will let the people of this village live as slaves. Refuse, and they will all be slaughtered along with you."
In the surrounding houses, the sounds of crying children became louder. Anna hugged Lila tightly, both of their bodies trembling with fear.
Li Yuan looked toward the house where his family was hiding, then back to the General.
"And if I choose a third option?"
"A third option?"
Li Yuan smiled—a cold and deadly smile that made some of the soldiers take a step back.
"To kill all of you."
General Ravencrest laughed—a loud and thundering sound.
"You? One man against three hundred? Even with your high-level martial arts, that's impossible."
"Maybe," Li Yuan conceded. "But I will try."
In his Zhenjing, the two Understandings vibrated with an intensity he had never felt before. The Understanding of Emotion caught not only his own and his family's emotions, but also the emotions of the three hundred soldiers surrounding him—their confidence, their curiosity, and beneath it all... a small trace of doubt.
The Understanding of Rage vibrated with an almost uncontrollable power. An anger that had grown beyond reason, beyond logic, into something pure and absolute.
This is the moment, something within him whispered. This is the moment when everything will change.
Thomas Aldrich looked at Li Yuan with tearful eyes.
"Yuan," he whispered. "You don't have to do this alone."
Li Yuan turned to his dying friend. "Thomas—"
"We can still fight," Thomas interrupted with a weak smile. "We're still men of Millbrook."
David Miller, even with his intestines out, tried to get up again. "For family," he said in a trembling but firm voice.
Old Pete nodded, his hand tightening its grip on his broken axe. James, though blind, grabbed his broken spear.
Robert was still crawling, but he was moving closer toward Li Yuan.
One by one, the seventeen surviving men of Millbrook gathered around Li Yuan. Badly wounded, almost dying, but still willing to stand for the last time.
General Ravencrest looked at the scene with something that might have been respect.
"Foolish courage," he said. "But courage nonetheless."
Li Yuan felt a warmth in his chest—not from the Understandings, but from something simpler and more human. He wasn't alone. Even at the end of everything, he wasn't alone.
"Thank you," he whispered to his friends. "Thank you for standing with me."
The General raised his sword, and three hundred soldiers prepared for the final attack.
"Then," the General said in a thundering voice, "let's end this."
And in that moment, as Li Yuan prepared to face impossible odds, the two Understandings in his Zhenjing began to vibrate toward their final transformation.