Firelight spilled across the tree trunks, staining the forest as if someone had painted it into a living map of hell.
Heat slammed into Lin's face.
He staggered back two steps, throwing his arm up to shield his eyes, breath locking in his chest.
He had won something precious.
A window.
Short. Fragile.
Barely long enough to matter.
The fire cut the enemy off.
But the true threat had only just revealed itself.
Lin turned toward the stream—
And saw something that stopped his heart outright.
The pregnant woman.
The child.
They were suspended in the air.
A bronze-armored warrior stood at the edge of the firelight, silent and unmoving. Somehow, without sound, it had passed through the burning line and emerged from a side trail deeper in the woods. Its movement had been so smooth, so clean, that Lin had not sensed it at all.
The warrior held the woman and the child in one hand.
As if they were nothing more than two worn cloth sacks.
Their bodies hung limp, legs dangling, shadows twisting weakly beneath them. The woman's face had drained of all color, but her mouth was still moving.
Cursing.
"I should have known. You heartless bastard. You've killed us. You've killed us all—"
Lin did not hear the rest.
The bronze warrior tilted its head.
The movement was subtle. Almost curious. Like a human studying the final struggle of prey.
Its eyes were pale.
Not glowing.
Not blazing.
Just two dull, white pupils.
And yet, within them, Lin saw something unmistakable.
Mockery.
His heart dropped like a stone sinking into deep water.
All his calculations.
Every trap laid in advance.
Every risk taken with his life.
In front of this enemy, they meant nothing.
The woman kept shouting. Her voice cracked. Spittle flew from her lips as panic tore through her.
Lin did not wait for the end.
Because in that instant, he understood something with brutal clarity.
He could not save them.
If he charged back now, there would only be one more corpse.
Without hesitation, Lin turned and bolted down the true mountain path.
Behind him, the woman's scream broke apart into raw, tearing curses.
The general did not pursue.
He stood where he was and watched Lin vanish into the shadows between the trees.
The pale pupils remained fixed on him, filled with that same distant, contemptuous calm.
Firelight struck the side of the general's face, casting it into sharp relief. For a moment, he looked less like a living being and more like a statue forged of metal and cruelty.
Ahead, the forest lay in absolute darkness.
It looked like a vast, open hunting net.
Waiting.
Deep within the woods, the night thickened until it felt like overturned ink, heavy and suffocating.
Lin moved through it at a speed that barely seemed human.
This was complete darkness.
Running blindly through a forest like this was usually suicide.
But the old hunter moved as if he carried a dim oil lamp inside his chest, forcing a narrow path open through the night by sheer will.
He had been running for most of the night.
His breathing grew rough and uneven. Cold wind scraped against his lungs until his chest burned. His throat felt raw, as if scoured with sand.
He stopped beneath an ancient pine, pressing his back hard against the trunk.
He held his breath.
Listened.
Only wind.
No footsteps.
No wet dragging sounds of half-dead limbs scraping across the ground.
Lin lowered his gaze to the disturbed leaves beneath his feet.
His tracks were crooked. Uneven. He had doubled back, changed direction, twisted his path again and again until it looked like the trail of a wounded snake dragged across the forest floor.
He wiped cold sweat from his face and began to orient himself.
Two paths lay ahead.
To the left, a narrow trail followed the slope downward. The ground there was soft and low. If he moved lightly enough, he could reach the foot of the mountain without being detected.
It was safe.
Hidden.
A real chance to survive.
To the right was the road back to the village.
A place of collapsed walls, bloodstains, and ash left behind by fire.
He had already led three groups of villagers out.
Not many would survive.
By any measure, he had done more than his share.
Returning now would mean placing his head directly into the mouths of those dead things.
Lin closed his eyes.
Night wind brushed over him, carrying the smell of burnt wood and damp soil. His hands clenched, then slowly relaxed.
Then, in the next breath, he turned.
His steps were steady, but beneath them ran a thread of stubborn, near-maddened resolve.
He felt uneasy.
Facing an enemy like this, he did not know what the right choice was.
The only thing clear in his mind was his wife.
The moment he realized how bad things were, he had sent her away.
But she would not leave.
She worried about Wei.
She insisted on hiding somewhere in the forest instead.
Only when she saw Wei with her own eyes would she agree to go.
Now, Lin wanted only one thing.
To find her.
Against an enemy this terrifying, hiding was no longer a solution.
The forest grew quieter the deeper he went.
So quiet he could hear his own blood moving.
His thoughts drifted to Wei and Chun.
They must have escaped by now.
Wei had always been careless. Big-hearted.
As for Chun… kind, yes, but not exactly cautious.
He hoped the heavens would watch over those two.
If he did not return—
What would happen to Wei?
Could the boy survive on his own?
Grow up in these woods?
Would he face danger like this again?
If he were cut off halfway, would he run?
Or would he turn back like a fool?
Lin forced himself to stop thinking.
He moved across layers of wet leaves, his steps light despite the weight pressing down on his shoulders.
Then—
He stopped.
Ahead, the forest broke open.
A clearing appeared abruptly, as if someone had torn a hole in the night.
The clouds parted.
Moonlight poured down.
Grass shimmered pale and cold, as though coated in frost kissed by death.
Lin tightened his fists and leaned forward slightly, eyes sweeping the center of the clearing.
There—
A skeletal warhorse stood waiting.
It did not move.
It looked as though it had been dug straight out of an ancient grave.
Its pale frame was almost translucent under the moon. Cracks ran through the bones, filled with an eerie green flame that flowed like liquid light. The fire moved without sound, licking along fragments of rusted armor still clinging to its body.
A shattered iron insignia hung at its chest.
The emblem was split cleanly in two.
It looked like the last hatred of a forgotten kingdom, frozen in metal.
Lin's heart sank.
Deep.