The messenger entering the camp of the Red Demons without his tongue.
The horse foamed at the mouth, pushed beyond its limit, and the rider slumped half-conscious in the saddle—barely clinging to the reins. By the time the guards caught up and dragged him into the Red Demon camp, his hands were bloodied, his eyes wide with panic, and the front of his uniform was soaked with piss.
Sun Longzi stood just outside the northern barricade, arms crossed, face unreadable. He waited as the man was tossed to the ground like a sack of rotting grain.
"He came from Baiguang," Yaozu said, crouching to check the man's seal. "Bearing a message from Crown Prince Li Xuejian."
Sun Longzi said nothing.
The man couldn't speak. His mouth was open, jaw trembling, but no sound came out—only the ragged breath of someone who had lived far too long on fear and little else.
