The night sky was cloudless, and the full moon hung like a silver blade. Yet to those who stood upon the battlefield, its radiance was tainted by crimson hues, as if the heavens themselves bled. Soldiers of Qin tightened their grips on their weapons, their breaths misting in the cold air. The silence before battle was suffocating—broken only by the crackling of torches and the distant howl of wolves beyond the mountains.
Tie Hongchen stood at the forefront, her armor gleaming faintly, her long spear planted into the earth. Her expression was calm, almost detached, yet her eyes shone with a sharp light that pierced into the enemy's camp. The shadow guild's massive formation glowed like a sleeping beast, faint inscriptions slithering across its barrier as though alive. Behind that wall of runes lay Di Yi, a man whose name alone sent chills through the underworld of the mortal realm.
She lifted her hand.
"First unit—advance."
Fifty soldiers moved as one, shields raised, spears bristling. Behind them, archers nocked arrows tipped with faint traces of spiritual light, their bodies taut with discipline. The ground shook with every synchronized step, and the aura of the Qin army began to swell.
Yet before they reached the barrier, the earth split with a sickening crack. A shadow surged upward, solidifying into a monstrous beast. It was a chimera of nightmare—tiger's fangs, serpent's coils, and crow's wings. Its form twisted constantly, each breath exhaling foul miasma that corroded the grass into ash.
The soldiers hesitated. The smell of decay stung their noses, fear pressing against their chests.
Tie Hongchen's voice rang out like thunder:
"Do not falter! Spears to the throat—advance!"
The soldiers roared in unison, their fear transformed into steel by her command. Shields braced forward, spears thrust as one, glowing faintly as their mana interwove through drilled formation. The beast screamed, staggering back as dozens of spears pierced its shifting form, dark ichor splattering onto the ground.
On the far side, two figures stepped lightly from the shadow guild's barrier. The black and white phoenix emissaries. Their faces were identical, cold and flawless, yet their auras were polar opposites—one chilling like an endless abyss, the other suffocatingly pure. As they joined hands, a lotus of yin and yang manifested between them, pulsing with eerie rhythm.
Their voices blended into one:
"Lotus of twin phoenixes—devour."
From the lotus burst twin streams of black and white fire, weaving like serpents through the battlefield, instantly burning three soldiers into ashes. Cries of alarm rose among the Qin ranks.
Tie Hongchen leapt forward, spear spinning. With a single thrust, she split the twin flames apart, her aura exploding like a storm. She did not retreat, but advanced, her spearpoint aimed directly at the emissaries' throats.
"You two dare step out again? Then you will not return."
The twins' expressions darkened, and their lotus expanded, forming a dome that swallowed Tie Hongchen's spear strike. Sparks flew, the ground shattering beneath them as shockwaves rippled through the field. Soldiers staggered, barely maintaining formation.
---
Far above, in the central pagoda of the shadow guild, Di Yi finally opened his eyes. They were like bottomless abysses, reflecting neither joy nor anger. He had been seated in meditation for days, yet he had never once lost awareness of the battlefield. His lips curved faintly as he observed Tie Hongchen clashing with his emissaries.
"So… Qin's war goddess truly lives up to the title. Not merely beauty, but a will sharp enough to rival kings."
He stood, his robes flowing like ink, and the air around him warped under his presence. Even within the heavily guarded guild, elite assassins knelt instinctively, their foreheads pressed to the floor.
"The era of hidden blades is ending," Di Yi murmured. "If I do not drown the mortal realm in shadow now, Qin's light will consume everything. Very well… let this night become their grave."
He raised his hand, and the formation pulsed violently. The beast below roared louder, its body absorbing fresh streams of blood from sacrificial altars hidden underground. The crimson hue of the moon intensified.
---
Far across mountains and rivers, a lone figure sped across the night, robes snapping in the wind. Tai Jian's breath came harsh, his body blazing with heat as his speed tore through the air. His skin reddened from the friction, veins bulging, yet he did not slow. His divine sense stretched constantly toward the reflection of the moon on the peach tree he carried in his memory.
The reflection trembled violently. His heart clenched.
"Hongchen… hold on."
Every few hours, he was forced to stop briefly, pressing spiritual pills into his mouth to prevent his meridians from tearing apart. His body screamed in protest, but he pushed it further. He had calculated: three weeks if he moved without rest. But now, feeling the urgency, he knew even three weeks was too long.
The moon above shimmered crimson. Ominous.
Suddenly, from the dense forest below, shadows shot upward—rogues hired by the shadow guild to slow him. Assassins leapt like hungry wolves, blades flashing with poisonous gleam.
Tai Jian's eyes turned ice-cold. He drew no weapon, only clenched his fist. Mana surged, and his punch split the first assassin in half, blood misting the air. He did not even pause to look at the corpse.
More rushed him, but his movements were fluid, each strike explosive. Sword-light, spear-qi, whip shadows—all flashed in his hands, techniques he had taught his soldiers now wielded with divine mastery. One by one, bodies fell, scattering like broken leaves.
When the last assassin gurgled his final breath, Tai Jian wiped the blood from his cheek and resumed his run, faster than before. His chest burned, but his eyes blazed with determination.
"I will arrive before the crimson moon wanes… or I will die on the road."
---
Back at the battlefield, the Qin army was locked in deadly struggle. The beast roared, scattering soldiers, only for Tie Hongchen's sharp commands to draw them back into order. Spears flashed, arrows rained, mana formations glowed. The emissaries pressed harder, their lotus blooming larger, its petals falling like blades of annihilation.
Tie Hongchen's spear danced, severing each petal with precise thrusts. Sweat glistened on her brow, but her gaze was unwavering. She could feel it—the presence behind the formation. Di Yi was watching. Waiting. Testing.
She tightened her grip on her spear.
"If he dares step onto this battlefield… I will cut him down."
The crimson moon pulsed overhead, casting the battlefield in bloodlight. Both armies prepared for escalation. And far away, racing against time, Tai Jian drew ever closer—his presence the only variable that could shatter the delicate balance of death.
The true storm had yet to break.