At the other end of the bridge, Chun and Little Butterfly were waving at him.
Their smiles shone through the mist, bright and stubborn, like two fragile flames refusing to go out.
The dark figure behind them did not feel like a warrior.
Not like a guard.
It felt more like a weapon, patiently honed.
A dark assassin that had waited a very long time.
At this moment, it stood directly behind Chun and Little Butterfly.
Its body leaned slightly forward.
Its knees folded at an eerie yet stable angle, as if all its weight had been compressed into the shortest, most efficient arc of force.
The silent pressure of it made Wei's back turn cold.
It felt as though it needed only an instant.
One instant to carve the mark of death across the backs of the two girls.
Suddenly, the shadow moved.
Just a slight motion.
The dagger in its hand lifted a fraction, and beneath the moonlight, a thin line of cold light flashed.
Mist churned beneath the bridge like something alive.
Wei sped up. His lungs felt ready to explode, his breathing tearing harshly in his throat.
"Chun!"
The shout barely left his mouth before wind and fog swallowed it whole.
The bridge swayed ahead. The vine ropes scraped faintly in the night wind.
From a distance, Wei saw Chun standing low on the bridge, her body pressed down, both hands gripping the vines tightly, trying to steady it so he could cross faster. Beside her was the smaller figure of Little Butterfly, clutching the other rope.
Chun lifted her head happily and waved at him. Her lips were moving, calling something. Wei could not hear. He only saw her face light up for an instant.
No.
Wei's heart dropped.
He ran wildly, gesturing with desperate force, his arm nearly tearing from his shoulder. He opened his mouth to shout, but only broken breaths came out.
Chun clearly saw him too.
She began making urgent gestures back at him.
Confused, Wei glanced over his shoulder.
The Black Warrior was already less than fifty meters behind him, dragging one injured leg, a saber in hand.
His head tilted slightly as he stared at Wei.
In the forest behind him, more figures were emerging from the darkness.
The Black Warrior grinned.
He raised his saber.
It did not fall.
Instead, in the air, slow and deliberate, he drew a line toward Chun.
A throat cutting gesture.
Wei understood at once. Blood rushed to his head.
"Behind you!"
He screamed with every ounce of strength he had, sprinting forward, his movements losing all form, leaving only instinct.
Chun finally turned.
Her gaze passed over her own shoulder,
toward Little Butterfly beside her.
She clearly thought something had happened to the younger girl.
And something had.
Little Butterfly's head had been struck once.
She collapsed soundlessly to the ground, unmoving.
No struggle.
No chaos.
The sight made every hair on Wei's body stand on end.
This was a professional assassin.
In the instant Chun froze, the shadow had already slipped up against her back.
Too fast.
So fast that Wei barely saw how it appeared.
He only saw a gloved hand rise sharply, seize Chun's hair, and jerk her head backward.
A pale flash cut through the mist.
A bone dagger pressed firmly against her throat.
Chun's body went rigid.
She did not struggle.
Or perhaps she had simply forgotten how.
It had all happened too quickly.
-----------------
Wind roared up from the abyss below. The bridge ropes gave low, strained groans.
Every step Wei took felt like stepping on a blade.
He moved faster and faster, and the bridge swayed violently beneath him.
In his mind, he kept repeating,
Hold on, Chun.
Hold on until I get there.
Just hold on.
The bone dagger in the assassin's hand slid lightly across Chun's neck.
Not a slash.
It pressed against her skin and dragged slowly.
A thin red line appeared against her pale throat, sharp and shocking.
Wei's breath stopped.
He halted instinctively, one arm raised high. The meaning was unmistakable.
I will not come closer.
Just do not hurt her.
Chun was locked tightly in the shadow's grip, her head forced back.
The assassin stood very low, his center of gravity pressed firmly behind her, like iron driven into the ground.
He did not lower his head.
He did not look at Chun.
The face hidden beneath hood and shadow remained turned toward Wei.
For the first time, the assassin spoke.
His voice was hoarse, like gravel ground inside his throat.
Unhurried.
Measured.
Each word struck Wei's ears like a nail.
"Now. Crawl over."
Not an order.
A condition.
"Or I kill the smaller one first."
Wei nodded frantically.
Kneel?
Images flashed through his mind. Chun's smile. Little Butterfly tugging at his sleeve and calling him brother. The bone dagger needing only the slightest pull to end all of it.
His knees bent.
Not by choice.
By instinct.
They slammed onto the single log with a dull thud.
The ropes shook even harder.
Wei lowered his head and gripped the vines, crawling forward. His knuckles were so pale they seemed transparent.
"Crawl to me,"
the assassin's voice came again, now carrying a trace of amusement, like someone teasing a dying fish.
"Use your life. Trade it for theirs."
As the words fell, the bone dagger slid again across Chun's throat. This time it did not cut. It rested against her artery, moving slowly, as if measuring the length.
Chun's body trembled violently.
She made no sound.
But Wei saw her lips shaking.
He saw the red veins in her eyes.
He saw her bite down on her lower lip, refusing to let herself cry out.
Wei's vision blurred.
Not from mist.
From tears.
He kept crawling.
His knees scraped against the rough rope and wood, each movement like a blade slicing into him.
Blood seeped from his skin, staining the bridge.
He crawled fast.
And yet it felt unbearably slow, as if he were trapped inside a dream.
With every inch forward, his heart sank a little deeper.
He knew.
The assassin would not stop.
This was only the beginning.
Still, he crawled.
Because Chun was in front of him.
Because Little Butterfly lay on the ground.
Because he had come too late.
Even if it bought only one second,
he would pay for it.