The fires from the previous day's skirmish still smoldered in the distance, staining the dawn sky with gray streaks. Ren crouched low beside a ridge, Kai at his side. Around them, about twenty battered foot soldiers waited, blades drawn, nerves taut.
They'd survived this long not because they were lucky—but because Ren had kept them moving right. Picking battles carefully. Hitting where the enemy was weak.
"Scouts say a Wei patrol is holding the hill ahead," Kai whispered, eyes flicking between rocks. "No cavalry. Just footmen."
"Good," Ren said. "We stay low, cut through fast, don't give them time to call for help."
He gave quick hand signals. The group moved—quiet as they could manage. The clash came fast and brutal. No war cries. Just steel and breath. Ren moved through the chaos like a current, ducking one swing, disarming another man with a twist of the wrist, slicing low and finishing clean.
Kai handled the rear, shouting to keep the line moving. "Push! Keep formation!"
When the final enemy dropped, the group paused for breath. The wounded sat down heavily. A few checked the bodies for usable gear.
"Clear?" Kai asked.
"Clear enough," Ren replied.
Then, the earth trembled.
Not from marching feet—but from something heavier.
Boom. Boom.
The sound rolled over the plains like distant thunder.
"What is that?" a young soldier whispered.
Ren didn't answer. He was already moving toward the edge of the ridge, drawn forward by instinct.
What he saw below made even him freeze.
Two forces clashed in the valley—a brutal melee, but in the center of it all were two men who didn't move like men at all.
One, a massive Qin general with wild hair and barbaric armor, mounted atop a beast of a warhorse. His laughter carried even through the noise. Duke Hyou.
The other, a tall and composed figure in flowing Wei armor, his glaive a streak of silver through the air. Go Kei.
They crashed into each other like gods. Trees split under the shockwaves. Men near them were thrown back just by the pressure of their swings. The sky above seemed to tremble from the force.
Ren stood frozen.
He'd fought killers. He'd slain a 500-man commander with grit and calculation.
But this… this wasn't war. This was something else.
Kai stepped up beside him, eyes wide.
"...They're monsters."
Ren didn't answer right away. He watched as Duke Hyou let out a feral laugh, taking a hit clean across his chest—and still surged forward, his halberd swinging with impossible power.
Go Kei responded with surgical precision, parrying, countering, pushing back. Sparks flew. Horses reared. Entire units scattered from the clash.
"They're what generals look like," Ren finally said, voice quiet.
Kai nodded slowly. "Someday…"
Ren's eyes narrowed.
"No," he said. "Not someday. We're already in their world. We just don't make the ground shake yet."
The fight below raged on, but the two of them turned away. Their own war continued elsewhere. But the image stayed with Ren—that there were still levels of strength that made even the best swordsman feel like a child.
As they descended the ridge and regrouped, Kai glanced over.
"Still want to keep surviving?"
Ren gave a faint smile. "More than ever."