"Fall back into formation!" Liu Sheng shouted his command and wheeled his horse around. The golden tiger on his black lacquer armor shone in the late afternoon sun, but the black tiger mask covering his face concealed his expression, so nobody knew how much pain he was in now. Every soldier on the field knew him, his mask, his tiger, the symbol - the mark of the Liu family, guardians of the Shanxi border for generations. His first win was on the battlefield when he was only twelve! There was no chance he would fall in an idiotic expedition like this!
"What to do, General Liu? They have a number advantage," his first lieutenant, Yu Xiamu, galloped through the battlefield and stopped right next to him.
Blood dripped from General Liu Sheng's hand as he gripped his dao, his most trusted sword, tightly. His breaths came in ragged gasps, each one spiking pain through his side. His scattered soldiers fought across the battlefield in a desperate rearguard action against the overwhelming northern force.
He needed to think quickly of a plan. They couldn't fight them head-on anymore, and prolonged fighting would surely destroy his forces. Those fucking degenerate military commanders in the Capital were a pain in his ass, and now his side. Those bastards thought they could fuck with a snake bare-legged.
Of course, minor fights were happening all over the border, but his province was relatively peaceful. His father and brother made sure there was nothing wrong. They were made to fight here while being told it's for the greater good. For the empire!
Bullshit.
Even though his mobile force was made to practically steal from the Northern enemies who passed by, they were quite surprised by the sheer size of the passing horde.
"To the woods!" he shouted out and waited for his command to be fulfilled while he rode his horse there.
"Hide! Ambush! Fight for life!" he shouted once again and hid in one of the densest bushes. Every time he saw someone, he shot his arrow, never missing. When he ran out of his arrows, he grabbed his dao, and jumped down from Lihui, his trusted horse, who listened to every order and, without fear, trampled their enemies under his feet. Without his arrows, Liu Sheng had to run to the battle himself.
He lost contact with his lieutenants or any of his soldiers; there was nothing around him but the darkness and greenery. He could only hear the steps of his enemies, while the battle sounds were sounding further and further away with every stray Northerner he caught and fought with. Liu Sheng feared he had gone too far while fighting. He had no idea where he was. Only trees were around him, trees that he didn't know. He wanted to whistle, to call his horse, and find his way back.
But a few people jumped at him from the trees above him, utilizing the same technique he used before. They were clothed in typical
"The Black Mask. Oh, that will be a nice reward for your head!" One shouted at him and slashed his sword down on Sheng's shoulder. Sheng was surprised that the person spoke the same language, but he had no time to think about the reason. He had to fight for his life. Five people. He used to spar against those numbers, but it was never a life-or-death situation.
The first enemy charged, a scimitar flashing in his hand. Liu Sheng met the blow with his dao, the clang of steel resonating through the trees. He felt the vibration. But the pain in his body resulting from this was nothing in this situation. Another scimitar was buried in his side, drawing a crimson line across his armor. And that was something that made him gasp. But he could take more than this.
Ignoring the fresh wound, Sheng spun around, his dao a blur as he deflected another axe attack. He danced between his enemies, being able to slash one under the neck, his movements fueled by desperation and fury, venturing even deeper into the forest away from his force and anyone who could help him when the worst happened. But the remaining four enemies were skilled fighters. They pressed him back. And Sheng had to use the dense forest, the trees, and the stones to hide and evade their attacks.
One Northerner lunged, attempting to grapple him. With a twist and a surge of adrenaline, Liu Sheng flipped the warrior over his shoulder, slamming him into the trunk of a nearby tree. The fighter crumpled, unconscious. There was no time to breathe, and Liu Sheng felt like he was dying already. It burned. Everywhere.
The remaining three enemies surrounded him, their faces contorted with a mixture of rage and excitement, but he saw a flash of respect, maybe even acknowledgment. They circled him, waiting for an opening or when Liu Sheng would be the one to strike first.
Liu Sheng braced himself, panting, trying to get as much air in his lungs as possible while he could. So before he couldn't breathe at all, he whistled on his fingers as loudly as he could, hoping someone would hear him. He was still watching his enemies with sharp eyes, surprised they let him take a break. That was so… not tactical.
He knew he wouldn't win this fight, though. His vision swam, and his arm twitched in pain with every movement. But surrender wasn't an option. Not for him. He would die as a general, fighting for his people.
With a final, defiant yell, Liu Sheng charged. He deflected a blow here and landed a strike there. Another Northerner fell.
The remaining two enemies were relentless. One landed a solid blow to Liu Sheng's thigh, sending him crashing to his knees. The world spun for a while, and for a moment, everything went dark, but then it lit up once again. Sheng had to endure everything. He whistled while getting up and launched forward his blade, finding the softness of the neck of the Northerner who slashed him.
He was too focused on the downed enemy and didn't sense the danger behind him until it was too late. A searing pain erupted in his back, a blade finding its mark. He moaned in agony, his vision black at the edges and little stars flying around.
Liu Sheng was just looking down at the blade sticking out of his belly. From the corner of his eye, he saw Lihui running through the dense trees. Sheng ran forward to the horse, almost dying just from the pain when the blade got pulled from his guts, and with a surge of adrenaline, he jumped on his horse and lay down on its back. Knowing his end was near.
"Run to safety," he whispered, unable to speak louder, and with his legs, he squeezed to follow the command. There was no chance he would survive. That was the last thought Liu Sheng had before everything went dark.