With the sun now shifted towards afternoon, the shadows of the soldiers who refused to surrender had shifted to their left as the stalemate held. The blood of the Ginmiao and Magoli soldiers spilled across the city rampart. The immediate aftermath of Dzhambul's full-force arrow attack was a scene of chilling, blood-soaked horror. The crimson patches upon the stone rampart shone brightly in the afternoon sunlight, hitting the stone like lava that had just flowed from a volcano eruption. The silence of the Eastern soldiers' forced inaction was violently contrasted by the gruesome physical reality of the sacrifice.
The Eastern Hmagol soldiers who had been caught in the crossfire—the ones positioned closest to the Ginmiao ranks—suffered terrible, unavoidable losses, proving the indiscriminate savagery of Dzhambul's attack.
Several Hmagol soldiers were struck by stray or deflected shafts. A young recruit lay with an arrow skewering his shoulder and neck, the double wound pinning him to the stone. Another had taken a glancing blow to the temple, the arrow tearing a huge, ugly gash that bled profusely, though the man was still alive, writhing in silent shock.
Zhi, Jeet, Naksh, Kunbish, Siqi, and the core group of loyalists watched as men they had fought beside for months were executed by their own countrymen. The paralysis of holding their fire in the face of this slaughter was the most profound wound. Their bows remained lowered, their faces pale, their hands trembling—not from fear, but from the unbearable pressure of restrained violence.
The entire rampart was transformed into a butcher's block: a monument to political ruthlessness, where lives were sacrificed not for lack of courage, but for the strategic integrity of a treason charge. The air hung thick with the metallic scent of fresh blood and the bitter smoke from the far-off campfires, now just another layer in the stench of betrayal.
Lixin's horse skidded to a halt right outside Chinua's tent, where General Batzorig and his captains were held captive. He rushed inside, finding the General and his officers seated exactly as they had been that morning—a tableau of grim, silent defiance.
"General," Lixin's voice snapped inside the small tent.
Batzorig made no immediate reply. Instead, with a maddening calm, he chose to pour himself a bowl of mare milk and began drinking, letting the silence stretch thin.
"Why are you back?" Dawan asked, referring to Lixin's sudden, tense return.
"General," Lixin said, his gaze fixed on Batzorig, bypassing Dawan's question entirely. "Prince Dzhambul has ordered you to take action now."
Batzorig set the bowl down and met Lixin's eyes. "The reason?"
Lixin scoffed, his smirk confirming his certainty that Batzorig already knew of Haitao's decisive move. "When you already know, why are you still asking?"
Batzorig sighed, picking up the bowl again. "I do not," he replied, taking another measured sip.
"Chinua's men, led by Captain Haitao, have brought five thousand soldiers to stop the Royal Second Prince," Lixin stated, his voice flat with menace. "His Highness has ordered you to abide by and follow the royal decree."
Lixin turned, taking three deliberate steps toward the door, then slowly turned back with a chilling smile. "General, may I remind you that anyone who goes against the royal decree will be beheaded, nine generations of bloodline." His voice dropped, venomous and precise. "You might think it's worth it for you to not follow the royal decree, but standing behind you, there are still your captains' families, and their unit leaders' families."
His eyes met Batzorig's with cold focus, delivering the final, brutal question. "So, where is your loyalty? On a princess who is charged with treason, your soldiers, or the King himself?"
Lixin put his hands behind his back and left the tent, his deadly ultimatum hanging in the tense, suffocating air.
Watching Lixin leave the tent, Batzorig sighed, a heavy weight settling on his shoulders. He looked at his men, and the decision was made. He knew in his heart that his loyalty had always lain with Batukhan and the Hmagol Kingdom's core identity. He sighed, knowing the action he was about to take would break the promise he had made to Chinua.
"Captains," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "Gather your men."
"General!" Chenghiz stood up, a look of profound shock on his face. "Gathering our men means we are about to fight against our own countrymen. This..." he looked away, his heart heavy. "This is something I cannot do."
As much as the other four captains disliked Chinua and her men, they had to agree with Chenghiz. They knew that the moment Batzorig led his army into battle, the most deadly civil war Hmagol would ever witness was about to happen.
Batzorig looked at his captains, and the sadness in his eyes spoke volumes. He sighed and said, "I do not like it any more than you, Captain Chenghiz, but as soldiers, we must follow the order that His Majesty is giving us. To defy such an order will be treason and dishonor to the people whom we promise to protect and our motherland."
He took three steps forward and turned to look at his captains, men who had served under him for decades. "If any of you do not wish to go, I will not force it upon you. Also, there will be no hard feelings."
As the sun shone, momentarily blinding her view of Nue-Li City, her horse still continued its desperate rush towards the Northern Gate. She knew she was only moments away, and that within the minute, she would reach Nue-Li.
As her horse drew closer, she could clearly see that the Eastern Flags were still flying high on the city wall. Her heart suddenly felt a small wave of relief, knowing that the city she was trying so hard to save was still standing, and still hers.
"Open the gate!" Chinua shouted, her voice sharp with urgency.
The female soldiers standing on the wall looked out, turning to look at each other. They muttered in disbelief, "That's... that's Chinua."
One female soldier quickly ran to the other side of the rampart and shouted down at the soldiers below, "Open the gate! Chinua is coming!"
The soldiers behind the massive iron gate quickly slid one side panel open, moving it aside just in time for Chinua's horse to rush through, followed immediately by Hye and the others.
Chinua rode down straight to the southern gate of the city, as she rode down the street, she found that many people had move towards this part of the city, and she also realized that all of her seven captains are not on the northern part of the city.
"General," Chinua shouted back, her eyes quickly finding Chong and the others ridding behind her.
As a general himself and someone who had fought countless wars, Chong understood Chinua's demand without her needing to speak it. He met her gaze with a resolute nod, his own shame and doubt replaced by fierce loyalty in the face of Dzhambul's attack. "General, we will fight with you and your men to defend this city with everything we have."
Just when Chinua and the others were getting closer to the southern gate, they began to see wounded Ginmiao and Magoli soldiers being treated by the local doctors and other soldiers, forcing them to slow their horses.
"General!" One soldier, who was badly wounded with an arrow still stuck in his right shoulder, called out to Chong. "You are back." He looked at Chong, realizing that the only ones who had returned were the General and his two captains. "What about the others?"
Chong sighed, looking at the wounded soldier with profound sadness. "They... they didn't make it, soldier. They sacrificed their lives to protect Zaoging."
A collective gasp of sadness escaped the lips of the nearby wounded soldiers. As tears moistened their eyes, they came to the grim reality that the victory at Zaoging had come with a heavy, heartbreaking cost.
Chinua and the others stopped their horses before the stairwell, dismounted, and rushed up the stairs together.
As Chinua approached the top, the innocent blood that spilled momentarily blurring her vision, she found all of her men lined up. The moment her foot stepped on the blood smearing the city wall stone, she walked purposefully toward her commanders.
"How is the situation?" Chinua's firm voice sounded, which made everyone lined by the city wall edge turn to look at her.
"Chinua!" They said in unison, a collective wave of relief and renewed determination washing over the rampart.
Instead of asking the reason why Dzhambul was here, as she already knew the cause from Khair, Chinua asked the most critical strategic question, "Who fired the first arrow?"
Dae, wounded in the shoulder and arms, walked forward to face Chinua. "I fired the first arrow." He looked pointedly at Chong and the two captains. "None of the Eastern Camp soldiers fought back. The fight now is between the citizens of Nue-Li and Hmagol's Second Prince. It has nothing to do with you and your men, Chinua..."
Drystan looked at Chinua with a smirked on his face and said, "And I joined them. I cannot stand by and watch as the bastard who hired me to kill you and her boss continue to frame you."
"Chinua," Hye turned back and said, his voice carrying an edge of urgent strategy. "Haitao is down there with the rest of the soldiers facing against Dzhambul. If Haitao doesn't back down, this will be a civil war, and the most profound proof of treason that will solidify Dzhambul's accusation against you."
Chinua walked to stand next to Hye and sighed. "And no matter what I say, it will be impossible to clear my name."
"That's right," Hye said. He looked toward the rear of the camp and found that many soldiers had begun moving toward the frontline. "If my guess is right, that would be Batzorig and his men." He smirked and turned to look at Chinua. "What side do you think he will fight for?"
"Dzhambul," Chinua said simply.
"Why are you so sure?" Hye asked.
"Batzorig is too loyal to the crown," Chinua explained. "Whether the evidence the Second Royal Brother has is real or not, Batzorig will not go against a royal decree."
Chinua turned to leave, but Hye grabbed onto her right arm. "What are you doing?" Hye demanded.
"My soldiers and I did not put our lives on the line so that we will fight against our own countrymen. I will go to Ntsua-Ntu and ask the Royal Father himself whether the decree the Second Royal Brother holds is true or not," Chinua declared.
Hye pulled Chinua closer to him. He spoke through gritted teeth, "You do understand that if you walk out of here, surrender, you are a criminal."
"Hye is right," Khunbish affirmed, his face pale.
"Every man and woman standing here is willing to fight with you until the end," Jeet insisted.
"Just give the order," Naksh pleaded.
"I am not just a General, but I am a Princess, and the only person who can punish me is the King himself," Chinua said, her voice cutting through their protests. "Zhi."
"Chinua," Zhi replied, stepping forward.
"You are to stay behind with the others and hold Nue-Li City until I return. From here, Zhi will take my place."
"Chinua!" her captains protested in unison.
"Is my order clear?" Chinua said firmly, looking at her captains. She met Khunbish's gaze. "Especially you, you are not to leave Nue-Li City without my permission."
"Chinua, I—" Khunbish began, worried.
"Is my order clear?" Chinua repeated herself, her voice brooking no argument.
"Yes, Chinua," Her captains replied reluctantly.
Chinua walked down the stairwell, mounted her horse, and one side of the iron gate swung open. The loud creak the gate made caused the Northern soldiers to turn and look at Nue-Li City, just as they saw Chinua riding towards them.
Chinua's horse ran straight to where Dzhambul was, arriving at the same time as Lixin, Batzorig, and Batzorig's soldiers.
A smirk appeared on Dzhambul's face. He looked up at Chinua and said, "If you arrived any later, you would be the reason why Hmagol had her first civil war."
Chinua looked down at Dzhambul and said, "You and I know fully well how these soldiers and innocent people died." She dismounted and walked toward Dzhambul. "Royal Second Brother, there is no need to lie through your teeth as both you and I know that there is no truth coming out of your mouth."
Dzhambul grabbed the royal decree from his inner robe and looked at Chinua. He said, "Chinua, the Eastern General, step forward and receive your order."
Chinua looked at Dzhambul with a fierce expression on her face. She said firmly, "I do not accept the decree you hold in your hand."
Dzhambul sighed angrily. "You do understand the punishment for refusing a royal decree."
Chinua challenged him. "I do, but I do not trust the written contents. Even if I refused a royal decree, the only person who can punish me is the King himself, not you or the piece of paper in your hands."
Dzhambul knew that if he were to take over as the next king, his image had to be perfect in the eyes of the law. He lowered his hand and said, "Batzorig, follow the order the King had given you."
Batzorig sighed, dismounted, walked to Chinua, and said, "Chinua, I'm sorry."
Chinua stood tall, showing no fear. "You do what you must do," Chinua said.
Batzorig reached out, and a soldier handed him a hand shackle. Batzorig reached forward towards Chinua's hands, when Khenbish jumped forward, his sword drawn and pointed at Batzorig.
Chinua grabbed Khenbish's wrist and lowered it down. "Step back," she said, reaching out her hands toward Batzorig.
Batzorig shackled Chinua's hands unwillingly. "Endure it for now. You will have your day in court before His Majesty," Batzorig whispered.
Looking at Chinua so willingly giving up and becoming a prisoner, Lixin suddenly had doubts. He wondered if the reason Chinua was so willing could be that she had a contingency plan.
Lixin stepped beside Dzhambul's ear. "Your Highness," Lixin whispered. "Even if we get Chinua, the brain behind her success is still standing on the city wall, forming plans to help her."
Dzhambul did not hesitate. He looked directly at the captive Chinua. "Batzorig, bring a message to the Ginmiao named Hye. If he doesn't step out and surrender himself..." His eyes locked on Chinua's. "Kill every single Ginmiao inside Nue-Li City."