The wind and snow cut like blades. Darkness still clung to the sky as the cold of the Western Mountains deepened.
At the frontier command, torchlight glinted off iron helmets. Tu Lu, clad in full armor, stood immovable before the camp gates. His expression was grim as he looked southeast—the direction from which the Templar forces advanced.
"Scouts report," a deputy rushed forward. "The Templar vanguard has reached West Ridge Pass, led by General Raymond de Montfort himself. Five hundred knights and fifteen flame carts are advancing along the ridge."
Tu Lu's eyes narrowed. "So Raymond finally rides. The youngest iron-blooded general of the Templars."
He turned sharply. "Form triple lines! Heavy shields to the rear. Shadow Blade Squad, right flank standby. Once the flames rise—release arrows and prepare to engage!"
Below the cliff, Li Song strapped on his armor. His Dog Blade rested against his hip, its faint blue gleam catching the firelight. Bai crouched on the ridge above, her eagle-feather bow taut in hand, eyes scanning the slopes like a hawk.
Mu Rong and Rocky had already infiltrated the forest to the enemy's rear. Xie Hong stood in formation's shadow, staff grounded at his feet, his stance steady, his breath slow. Battle churned in his blood.
On the ridge trail, banners flapped and fire carts hissed forward. The knights' formation held like a steel tide. At their center rode a figure in white robes and silver armor, a black cross-stitched cloak flowing behind him. His ice-blue eyes swept the horizon—Raymond de Montfort.
"Youngest of the Templar generals," the whispers said. Noble-born. Cold-blooded. Undefeated.
"Break the ridge," he ordered, his voice like iron. "Baptize this land in holy flame."
He raised his golden-hilted sword, and the long horn blew.
The knights charged.
"Fire!" Tu Lu's roar split the mountain.
Bai loosed three arrows in quick succession—first pierced a shield, second struck a runner, third pinned a commander's knee. Rocky, from the slope, snapped a supply rope with a razor-tipped arrow. One cart veered off, colliding with two others.
Li Song led the charge, his blade a silver arc. Three fell beneath his feet in moments. Xie Hong followed, staff crashing down on helmets and horse skulls alike. "Go back to your sacred ruins!" he bellowed.
Mu Rong scaled the right-side bluff and poured oil down onto grain stores. A spark later, the flames roared.
Raymond scanned the field, calm amid chaos. His gaze locked on Li Song.
"There he is," he murmured. "The wolf they spoke of."
He surged forward atop his mount, holy sword drawn. The ranks parted like a tide before him. Three fell to his blade before he reached Li Song.
Steel clashed. Sparks scattered.
"Li Song, I assume," he said coldly. "You killed three of my captains."
Li Song didn't answer—he attacked. "Wind-Slicing!"
Raymond blocked effortlessly. "You should've died at Western Ridge."
Tu Lu charged in, roaring, "Temple brat! Try my blade!"
Steel rang. Two generals clashed amid snow and carnage. Despite his age, Tu Lu held his ground. Raymond countered, each strike cold and precise.
Elsewhere, the Shadow Blade Squad moved like shadows.
Mu Rong lit another oil cart. Rocky's grappling hook collapsed a siege frame. Bai struck the enemy banner, and it crumpled like a felled tree. Xie Hong barreled through the supply crates like a siege ram. Li Song cut down three riders before falling back to cover the retreat.
Raymond reeled from Tu Lu's sudden lunge. His deputy, Xilak, raised the holy shield just in time.
"Withdraw," Raymond commanded. Calm. Controlled.
He looked back once more.
"If we don't take Xiling today... it will burn tomorrow."
Night fell. The enemy had fled.
Tu Lu stared at the shattered Templar insignia littering the snow. "So even the Holy Knights... can bleed."
The Shadow Blade Squad regrouped by the campfire.
Li Song wiped his blade. Bai sat beside him, whispering, "If you'd hesitated against Raymond... he would've pierced your heart."
Li Song looked toward the dark mountains. "I'll meet him again. And next time—I won't fall back."
The fire cracked. Snow fell like ash.
Beyond the Western Ridge, the true holy war was only beginning.