The fifteenth day of battle had begun like all the others—bloodied skies, steel on flesh, and the endless sound of men screaming over soil already soaked in red.
But this day would mark the turning point.
Word had reached the command posts: a large contingent of the Zhao army, numbering close to 40,000 men, was veering off the main frontline. It wasn't a retreat. It was a calculated movement—toward another path, a separate destination.
Kanyou.
The heart of Qin.
Duke Hyou was the first to notice the shift. On a hill just behind the front, he stared across the horizon, watching the distant clouds of dust kicked up by moving troops. His face, always painted with savage amusement, tightened into something more serious. Something colder.
Ren stood beside him, scanning the same trail of dust with narrowed eyes.
"They're not fleeing," Ren muttered. "They're moving."
Duke Hyou glanced his way. "You feel it too."
Ren gave a tight nod. "If they circle around... Qin's capital will be exposed."
Karyoten stood with Shin nearby, confused. "But why now? What are they doing?"
Duke Hyou said nothing for a long time. Then he turned and barked orders to his men. "Prepare to ride. We're taking a force and chasing them down."
Ren looked over the gathered troops—no more than 5,000 could be spared, drawn from the remains of Duke Hyou's core, the Hi Shin Unit, the Gu Ren Tai, and a few reserves from Ousen's camp. It wasn't much.
But it would have to do.
They marched swiftly, cutting across the hills and narrow paths, and before long, they found the Zhao force.
It was massive. A true army, marching with terrifying precision. Among them—at the center—rode the strategist. Riboku.
The Qin force struck from the side, trying to disrupt the movement. But they had walked into a trap.
Suddenly, Zhao troops came crashing in from both flanks. Riboku's vortex formation began to spiral around them, twisting the Qin forces into chaos.
At the eye of that storm, Houken appeared.
Towering. Silent. Unstoppable.
Duke Hyou grinned wide and charged straight in.
Ren fought to hold the lines with his unit, desperately keeping their forces from being swallowed whole by the swirling formation. Shin, too, fought to stay upright in the chaos, battling shoulder to shoulder with the remains of the Hi Shin Tai.
But they were still too far.
Duke Hyou and Houken clashed at the center of the maelstrom. Two titans, blades screaming through the air. Their battle tore open the very ground they stood on.
But Houken was faster. Stronger.
And then—he struck.
His glaive plunged through Duke Hyou's chest.
For a moment, time froze.
The Duke didn't cry out. He didn't stagger.
He reached down and grabbed his massive shield. Blood streamed from his mouth, but his voice roared louder than ever.
With the last of his strength, he hurled the shield through the sky.
"ADVANCE!!"
The shield crashed into the earth before Shin, stopping him mid-charge. Dust rose around it like a shroud.
Shin stared, wide-eyed, as the reality hit him.
Ren reached him moments later, face grim. "He's gone."
Shin dropped to his knees, then grasped the shield's handle. His arms trembled as he lifted it.
"I'll lead them forward," he whispered.
Ren nodded once, unsheathing his blade. "Then we follow."
The remaining troops, battered and broken, heard the call.
And they moved.
They advanced.
Behind them, the storm still raged. But ahead—through fire and steel—they would carry the will of the fallen.
Duke Hyou was dead.
But his will… was still marching.