The moment Long stepped inside the city, the northern gate swung shut behind him with a final, echoing groan of iron. He looked up and saw the flying stones arc over the city walls, and as they fell, the sickening sounds of buildings crushing and splintering echoed from the distance. The war was no longer an unseen battle from outside; it had come to them, a brutal reality unfolding in the streets. He quickly made his way up the stone stairwell, his heart pounding in his chest, and stood beside Xao.
"Are you hurt?" Xao asked, his voice filled with a desperate, worried concern.
Long, his hands still trembling slightly, shook his head, a gesture that conveyed he was physically whole but spiritually bruised.
Without waiting for a word, Xao pressed a bow into his hands and a sword into his grasp, the familiar weight of the weapons a shocking comfort. "What happened?" he asked, a quiet demand for the full, brutal truth.
Although as much as Long hated to say it, hated to crush the desperate rage that fueled Xao, he looked his friend in the eye and spoke the terrible truth. "I was the only one captured," he said, his voice a low, painful whisper. "The others were let go." The words hung in the air between them, a final, brutal confirmation that shattered every ounce of fury in Xao's heart and replaced it with a hollow, burning shame.
Shocked, Xao turned to look at Long, his face pale with a dawning, terrible understanding. "You mean, that Magoli's words were actually true?"
Long nodded, his expression grim. "Yes," he said, the word a heavy weight. "As soon as those Magoli soldiers saw the white cloth tied to civilians' hands, they let the civilians go."
"So, you mean, General Chong's family is all right?" Xao said, his voice laced with a profound, quiet shame as he turned to look at Long. "Then what happened? How did you get caught?"
Long drew in a slow breath, the pain of the memory as sharp as a fresh wound. "I don't know how they knew I was a soldier, but they were already waiting for us when we were halfway to Zoaging," he said. He looked over the city wall, staring straight at Naksh and Jeet. "The two men down there," he continued, his voice a low, hard whisper. "They are Arkmeric, I can be sure of that, but I don't understand why they are leading an army of Magoli soldiers." He turned back to Xao, and his eyes widened in a sudden, shocking realization. "Most of the Magoli down there... they are female soldiers."
"Female soldiers?" Xao's voice, once filled with anger, now held a profound, disbelieving surprise. He quickly turned to look at the Magoli army waiting below. He saw them with a new set of eyes, their formations no longer a faceless horde but a disciplined, methodical force comprised mostly of women. The army was still, unmoving, a testament to the iron will of their commander. It was a sight that shattered his every preconceived notion of war, and in that moment, Xao realized he had not been fighting a barbarian horde, but a terrifyingly precise and disciplined force, led by a mind he could not comprehend.
Long looked out at the Magoli soldiers, their lines a stark, unmoving presence just far enough for Ginmiao archers to get a good shot. His heart was troubled as he noticed that they didn't plan to make the first move. They were an army of patience and discipline, not a mindless horde. Their stillness was a statement, a silent, chilling promise that they had a plan that would unfold in their own time and on their own terms, and all the Ginmiao could do was wait.
"The war has already begun," Long said, his voice a low, troubled whisper. "Why haven't they attacked us yet? What are they waiting for?" His question hung in the air between them, unanswered, as Xao stared down at the unmoving ranks of the Magoli army. The war they had prepared for was one of thunderous charges and desperate melees, but what stood before them was a chilling, calculated stillness, a patience that was more terrifying than any assault.
Xao sighed, a sound heavy with the weight of shame and realization. He looked at Long and asked, "What did that Magoli man say when he first entered the city?"
Long's reply was a quiet, direct answer to the question that haunted them both. "Tied a white piece of cloth on the front doors of the civilians' houses to ensure them a safe passageway."
Without a moment's hesitation, Xao turned to a nearby soldier, his voice now a grim, sober command. "Pass down my order," he said. "Have the people still remaining in the city tie a white piece of cloth on their front doors."
Xao's voice was firm and unwavering as he gave the order, his gaze holding the soldier's until the man raced off to obey. He felt no guilt for his command. The shame he had felt moments ago was gone, replaced by a cold, clear sense of purpose. In his heart, he believed that the civilians who had risked everything to walk out of the city, and those who had remained, bravely holding onto the promise of a peaceful surrender, deserved to live.
On the southern gate of Neu-Li City, Nta and his men waited, their eyes fixed on the long, heavy log that bolted the door shut. With each earth-shaking thud from the battering ram, the wood shuddered and groaned, until a jagged, zigzag crack began to snake across the beam's surface. With every deepening line, their hands squeezed harder on the hilts of their swords and the shafts of their spears, their knuckles turning white with a grim, final resolve.
Then, as the last jolt of the battering ram hit, Neu-Li City's southern gate splintered inward. The archers at the front of the line pulled their bowstrings back, every single arrow aimed at the opening, but to their surprise, no Magoli soldiers came rushing in. Instead, the gaping hole where the iron door once stood was now replaced by a solid wall of long, overlapping shields, their surfaces scarred and dented, a silent and unbreachable barrier.
The Ginmiao were taken aback at the sight unfolding in front of them. They turned to look at each other, their faces etched with confusion, trying to fully understand the situation. In that moment of vulnerability, the solid shield wall in the gate quickly spread apart. From within, a terrifying machine was revealed, controlled by Muunokhoi. It was an automatic arrow machine, and it released hundreds of arrows directly at the Ginmiao archers. The sound of its fire was a relentless, chattering storm, and the arrows flew so fast they were little more than a dark blur. The Ginmiao archers, their own bows useless, fell in a sudden, brutal rain of death.
Nta and the others quickly shielded themselves, the Ginmiao soldiers' instinct to survive overriding their fear. But the Magoli's weapon was not an ordinary bow. The arrows it released were much larger, and the force behind them was far more powerful than any man could produce. Their shields, once a trusted barrier, offered little protection. With a sickening, splintering sound, the heavy arrows shot straight through the wood and metal, impaling many of the Ginmiao soldiers and turning their final stand into a swift, brutal massacre.
Seeing that the Ginmiao archers had been shot down, the first group of Magoli vanguard, led by Khunbish and Zhi, moved forward. A final rain of arrows fell from above, but then, with a terrible, splintering groan, the massive, spiked log held on the ceiling of the gate tunnel came crushing down. It knocked and killed many of the vanguard soldiers, but that did not stop the others. They advanced further through the tunnel, heading straight toward Nta and his men as Chinua and her cavalry, a thunderous wave of force, stormed into the city.
Outside the city wall, Haitao and his group had also successfully breached the city's defenses. Four of the five escalades had hooked onto the wall, their frames groaning under the weight of the men climbing them. The Magoli soldiers had already engaged in a fierce battle with the Ginmiao defenders on the battlements, the clash of steel and the shouts of men a grim melody against the backdrop of the falling city. The two-pronged assault, at both the gate and the wall, was a final, devastating blow to the city's crumbling resistance.
By this time, Dawa, Jochi, and Bolor, along with the northern Magoli soldiers, had rushed forward into the opened southern gate on horseback. They rode past Chinua and her men, a new wave of unrelenting force heading straight for the northern gate of Neu-Li City. Two soldiers quickly brought the war horns to their mouths and blew as hard as they could, their calls echoing through the streets. The long, deep blasts were a pre-arranged signal to Naksh and his men that it was time to attack the northern city gate.
As Dawa, Jochi, and Bolor rode down the not-almost-empty streets, they saw houses with white cloth tied to their front doors, silent flags of surrender. Dawa turned to his fellow commanders, his face grim with a renewed sense of purpose.
"You must remember that the general leading the army this time is not General Batzorig, but The Eastern General," he said, his voice a stern reminder. "You and your soldiers must uphold the rules she set."
Standing outside the northern city gate, Naksh listened to the war horns echoing through the city and then motioned with his hand. The soldiers, who had been patiently waiting, snapped into formation. They quickly lined up, every soldier nocking an arrow onto his bowstring and aiming at the Ginmiao soldiers on the city wall. Their long wait was over, and the final, coordinated assault on Neu-Li City had begun.
Xao and Long looked at the Magoli soldiers, their bows aimed and ready, and then at the soldiers along their own city wall, a grim mirror of their enemy. Xao's face, once a mask of shame, was now a portrait of cold, fierce resolve.
"Get ready!" he commanded, his voice a battle cry. "They are ready to attack us! Give them everything we have!"
The Ginmiao soldiers answered with a collective roar of defiance, their spirits unbroken even as they prepared for a fight, they knew they could not win.