The ridge was barren, the forest cold. Snow fell like knives, slashing across the sky in wind-driven streaks.
The morning mist had yet to lift, and the valley was shrouded in an icy haze. The remnants of battle littered the camp: shattered banners, bloodstained helms, the dead still unburied beneath the snow. The border army and the Shadow Blade Squad had held their ground here for three days. Fires flickered low, warmth fading, tension rising.
The terrain sloped steeply on three sides, surrounded by cliffs with only a narrow pass to the north—easy to defend, but a deathtrap if breached.
Li Song stood silently at the cliff's edge, his cloak whipping in the wind. His gaze was heavy, like steel forged in midnight.
From afar, scouts galloped back, faces smeared with blood and dust.
"Report! Enemy forces are gathering at the northern slope of Black Pine Ridge! Vanguard of two hundred armored cavalry—Raymond's personal guard—battle banners already raised!"
In the command tent, Tu Lu's fists struck the table with a thud.
"Raymond himself?" he growled. "He won't accept Alman's death. A forced march through the night—he's come for blood."
Deputy Commander Kelide spoke grimly: "These aren't conscripts. Every man in his force is elite. Their equipment is superior. If they strike directly, we may not hold long."
Li Song looked around. "Can we ambush them?"
Tu Lu suddenly smiled, wolf-like. "Then let's gamble."
He pointed to the map: "Our main force will feint a frontal defense. I'll hold the valley head-on. You—Shadow Blade—flank through the right forest. Infiltrate, disrupt, and capture the command flag. Break their chain of command, and we might survive this."
Li Song nodded, cold glint flashing in his eyes.
At noon, the war drums boomed, shaking the valley floor.
Raymond's cavalry assembled in three columns, clad in holy emblem armor and red cloaks. Their scaled warhorses exhaled steam like dragons. The vanguard bore heavy lances, the second line tower shields, and the rear echelon held the divine knights and standard bearers.
The ground thundered as thirty lancers charged first, hooves slicing ice into shrapnel.
"Hold!" Tu Lu bellowed.
The border troops formed a shield wall, archers notching arrows behind them.
In the forest to the right, the Shadow Blade Squad moved like phantoms.
Snow thick as blankets covered the pines. Mu Rong slipped ahead, dual daggers glinting in her sleeves. Bai crouched with her bow drawn, eyes cold as frost.
"There are tents behind the flank," Rocky whispered. "No guards."
"I'll draw them. Xie Hong blocks the retreat. Bai, take the flag when the time comes." Li Song's voice was steady.
In a flash, Mu Rong scaled the camp tower, strangled two sentries mid-breath, and hurled a grappling hook to snap the flagpole. Flames erupted as Rocky hurled a firebomb—panic spread.
Bai loosed two arrows—the first took the drummer in the throat; the second severed the vanguard banner. The signal chain was broken.
Xie Hong roared, sweeping away two pursuers with his iron staff. The path was sealed.
On the front lines, Raymond's silver armor gleamed. His youthful face masked nothing of his fury. Beneath his left eye, an old scar pulsed.
Seeing the fires behind him, he sneered. "Efficient little wolves."
He raised his sword.
"Charge through the valley!"
The second wave surged behind him. Snow and blood intertwined like divine judgment.
Tu Lu stepped forward with axe in hand.
"Come, temple brat!"
The two clashed head-on. Raymond vaulted and swung—Tu Lu blocked with sheer strength, sparks flying.
Raymond struck again. Tu Lu's arms trembled but held.
"Still standing, old dog?"
"You don't deserve to ask." Tu Lu slashed wide, tearing open Raymond's armor and drawing blood.
Raymond's face hardened. He countered fast, his blade cutting into Tu Lu's shoulder.
Li Song emerged from the snow, blade flashing, forcing Raymond to stagger.
Mu Rong severed his horse's reins; Bai leapt onto the saddle and slashed. Xie Hong shattered the enemy's flank, Rocky's firebombs blocked reinforcements.
The five struck as one. Raymond parried fiercely, defending with ruthless skill. He blocked thirteen strikes in a row, but Li Song's blade slipped through, slicing his ribs—blood spilled across the white snow.
Raymond roared, retreating to high ground.
"Withdraw!" he ordered, voice cold. "If I don't slay you today, I'll bury you tomorrow."
His forces scattered. The border troops charged, reclaiming the field.
Night fell. Snow drifted quietly over the battlefield.
Li Song stood at the mountain's edge, staring into the smoldering dark.
Xie Hong wrapped his wounds and laughed. "That was a real fight."
Bai exhaled softly. "He's tough."
Mu Rong said, "Next time—no escape."
Tu Lu returned, bloodied but upright, settling back into the command tent.
"We didn't take Raymond's head at Dongling," he muttered. "But he knows now—we're not prey."
Li Song silently drew his blade and watched the stars vanish behind falling snow.