"Commander Hu, when do we set off?" Hu Yeluo's deputy commander, Liu Shumei had asked her, her voice excited. Behind her, the Rong troops perked up, waiting for Commander Hu's announcement.
"Xuan-Bane Army, we march when the princess gives us the order!"
"Jing'er, will we stay together forever?"
Those were the foolish words Hu Yeluo had uttered to the wonderful, legitimate, eldest, highest, loveliest, most amazing, most admired princess of the Rong sect before she had set out to wipe out the Xuan demon sect once and for all. She had been atop the finest kind of white feather Rong horse, decked and ready for battle, her Huxin dagger clutched tightly in her hand along with the coarse reins. The sky was a bright, clear blue, and her fuzzy foxtails had swished around in happy anticipation. All for Duan Jingyan…
"Of course, Ye'er," she had said, her voice ever so soft and lovely, like the finest silk and most expensive honey. Jingyan had been decked in soft pink and dewy green robes, looking like the beautiful wildflowers of the harsh mountains Yeluo had grown up in, her hair tied in an elegant braid down one shoulder, her light eyes, with vibrant, soft colors painted around it, sparkling in the morning sun. "We will always, always stay together…forever. Thank you for doing this for me," then, the Rong's princess had flashed her a smile, soothing and so much like the pretty dawns that they had seen together in the grand palaces of Jingyan's, and suddenly, Hu Yeluo was ready to do anything for her than just burning down the whole of the Xuans.
What good liars the Duans were, really. "Hu Yeluo, I'll be praying for your safety."
"Duan Jingyan, I will forever be loyal to you," she whispered.
And she was off. Thousands of Rong troops followed her, each on their own brown feather horses with packs slung over their shoulders, filled to the brim with all kinds of spirit pills and brews, ready to be consumed at any necessity. The horse was speedy, and its mane, made of feathers of the purest ivory, flew in the gentle breeze. The hooves beat like war drums against the dark earth, each stride carried her farther from the gentle warmth of the palace courtyards and deeper into the cold-boned wilderness where the Xuan demons waited. The wind tugged at her cloak, sharp with the scent of pine and iron.
She did not look back. Commanders never looked back. Yet the memory of soft laughter clung to her like morning mist.
"Commander Hu!" Liu Shumei's voice cut through the rushing air. She rode hard to keep pace, her brown feather mount tossing its head as foam gathered at the bit. "Scouts report movement along the eastern ridge. Likely Xuan sentries."
Hu Yeluo nodded. "Maintain formation."
Her voice came out calm and steady, sounding all like the voice of the Rong's finest blade. Behind her, banners snapped in the wind, scarlet threads whipping like tongues of flame. The Xuan-Bane Army stretched across the valley in a long, living river of iron and fur and feathers.
They trusted her, every single one of them. Trusted her to lead them to victory. Trusted her to bring them home. Her fingers tightened around the Huxin dagger, and the metal she met was cool despite the warmth of her palm.
Jing'er had given this dagger to her. "So you'll always remember your heart belongs with me."
How strange…to her,now the dagger felt less like a gift and more like a chain. She was indebted to Jingyan. Hu Yeluo lifted her gaze to the distant mountains. Black ridgelines cut into the horizon like broken teeth. Somewhere beyond them lay the Xuan demon sect … at the end of this long road.
A falcon wheeled overhead, its cry thin and lonely against the vast sky. Forever. It was such a fragile word, it shattered so easily. Hu Yeluo pressed her heels lightly to the horse's flanks, and the white-feathered mount immediately surged forward, eager and obedient, just like she had been. Dust rose behind them in a long pale cloud, swallowing the path back to Rong lands until it vanished entirely. And still, without quite meaning to, Hu Yeluo whispered into the wind —"Jing'er…"
The valley narrowed into broken stone and pale ridges where the wind moved thin and restless, carrying with it the faint chill of hidden mist. Moonlight Qi lingered even beneath the bright day, drifting in soft currents along the rock and brush like something half-asleep. Hu Yeluo could feel it brushing against her Spirit Vein — quiet, waiting.
Movement stirred along the eastern ridge. Dark-robed figures rose from behind the rocks, silent and watchful. Xuan sentries.
Hu Yeluo slowed the white-feathered horse only slightly, her Huxin dagger steady in her hand. The Moonlight Qi gathered around her almost without thought, faint and silvery, drawn by the calm certainty that filled her chest. "Xuan-Bane Army," she called, her voice clear and level, "forward."
The Rong troops advanced at once. The first arrows came like sudden rain. They cut through the air with sharp sounds, some striking shields, some biting into flesh. A rider behind her gave a short cry as one grazed his arm, but the line did not falter. Hu Yeluo urged her horse uphill. Moonlight Qi stirred more strongly now, below in her lower dantian, circulating, not compressed, rising with her focus. Her veins and nerves tingled, and it pooled lightly along the blade of the dagger until the metal gleamed with a pale, living sheen.
Silver Moon Metal.
Her feet touched the stirrups as though they weighed nothing, and for a moment the world seemed to slow, movement becoming clear and precise. The first Xuan cultivator rushed down to meet her. He was at the Spirit Forming stage — she could feel the uneven flow of Qi around him — dark and agitated like disturbed water. His blade glowed faintly as he struck.
Hu Yeluo leaned aside, too slow. The Huxin dagger flashed once, guided by the steady flow of Moonlight Qi, and the man fell before his strike had fully ended and she rode on without pause.
Around her, the Rong troops crashed into the sentries in a tight surge of movement. Spears thrust forward in rhythm while blades rang against one another in quick, sharp bursts of sound.
For a brief instant amid the clash, Hu Yeluo found herself facing a single Xuan demon cultivator who did not rush like the others but advanced with a slow, deliberate certainty, as though the battle already belonged to him. Moonlight Qi twisted uneasily around his Blood Vein, gathering in dark currents beneath pale skin marked by the spreading lines of a Demon Mark that climbed from his throat to the sharp angle of his jaw, like ink spilled by an impatient hand. Short black horns curved back through loose strands of hair, and his eyes shone with a dim reddish light that seemed almost luminous in the drifting dust. He was terrible to look at, and yet there was a fierce, unsettling beauty in him. The angles of his face were too sharp, too precise, as though carved rather than born, and when he smiled it showed teeth just slightly too pointed to be normal. Even the movement of him was elegant in a violent way, Blood Vein power tightening his limbs into something predatory, and Hu Yeluo thought with unease that the demons were always like this: aggressively beautiful.
A Xuan cultivator stepped onto a high stone and raised both hands. Moonlight Qi twisted around him, jagged and violent. She winced as she looked up at him. Crimson Claw Strike, no doubt. Shs had read about this in her family's mountain libraries years ago. It was a wonder to see the technique with her own two eyes.
His fingers lengthened into darkened talons as Blood Vein power surged through him, the faint outline of a Demon Mark spreading along his wrists like branching cracks. He leapt. Hu Yeluo turned the horse sharply aside as the claws tore through the air where she had been a moment before.
The impact shattered stood, and dust rose in a pale cloud. Before he could recover, she moved.
Foxfire. A pale flame sprang to life along the dagger's edge: soft and ghostlike, its light wavering like reflected moon on water. The fire did not burn the rock, it burned the spirit. The cultivator staggered as the flame brushed him, his movements faltering as illusion bled into reality. For a moment his eyes lost focus, as though he were seeing something far away.
Memories, perhaps. Or fears. Hu Yeluo ended it quickly in pity for him. The Foxfire faded as the dagger withdrew, leaving only silence where the man had stood.
The Moonlight Qi around her shifted with her thoughts — smooth and controlled — flowing like quiet water. Behind her, Liu Shumei drove forward with spear in hand, the weapon faintly lit by infused Qi. Each thrust was direct and forceful, scattering the remaining sentries who tried to hold the ridge.
The Xuan line began to waver. They had expected resistance, but definitely not this.
One cultivator attempted to gather Qi for a technique, but his concentration broke under the press of advancing Rong soldiers. Another stumbled back along the rocks before turning to flee entirely. The rest soon followed. The fighting thinned as quickly as it had begun.
Hu Yeluo slowed her horse near the crest of the ridge, the white feathers of its mane stirring in the restless wind. The Moonlight Qi around her gradually dispersed, fading back into the land as though it had never been disturbed. Below the ridge stretched another valley, darker and deeper than the last. The road to the Xuan demon sect.
The Huxin dagger rested quietly in her hand now, its pale glow gone, and only a thin red line marked the edge of the blade.
What good liars the Duans were, really.
The wind passed softly over the ridge, carrying the faint scent of stone and distant mist, and Hu Yeluo sat very still atop the finest kind of white feather Rong horse, as though nothing at all had changed.
"Good battle, Xuan-Bane Army!"
By the time the Xuan strongholds came into view, the sun had begun its slow descent, turning the pale cliffs into long bands of gold and shadow. The buildings clung to the mountainside in uneven tiers of dark stone and narrow bridges, their roofs rising like jagged wings against the sky. No banners flew now; the sentries had already fallen, and the silence that hung over the stronghold felt thin and strained. Hu Yeluo did not slow, though.
The white-feathered horse carried her straight toward the outer gates, the Rong troops close behind in a tightening wave of fur and iron and feather. The wooden barriers had been hastily reinforced, thick beams driven across them in uneven lines, but desperation showed in the roughness of the work. They had obviously not expected the Rong to arrive so quickly. "Break it," Hu Yeluo said, her voice filled with certainty.
The Rong soldiers surged forward at once. Moonlight Qi gathered along spearheads and blades, pale light flickering into life as Spirit Veins answered the rising heat of battle. The first impact struck the gates with a deep splintering crack, wood shuddering under the force.
Again. The beams groaned. Again. The barrier burst inward in a rain of shattered wood and the laughing Rong poured through.
Inside, the stronghold dissolved into movement and noise … Xuan cultivators rushing from narrow passages and stone courtyards, robes half-fastened, weapons drawn in haste. Moonlight Qi flared unevenly among them, sharp with fear and anger, clashing violently against the steadier currents flowing with the Rong advance and Hu Yeluo rode straight into it.
The Huxin dagger gleamed faintly as Qi gathered along its edge, responding to the cool focus in her mind. Foxfire flickered into being, dancing along the blade without smoke or heat. A Xuan cultivator lunged toward her, his Blood Vein surging into a half-formed Demon Mark that twisted across his arm like living script. She turned it aside and passed him in the same motion and he fell behind her without a sound.
The white-feathered horse pushed forward through the chaos, steady and unafraid, hooves striking sparks against the stone. Around her, the Rong troops spread through the stronghold in disciplined lines, driving deeper into the narrow passages and open courts alike. There was little order among the defenders.
Some fought fiercely, Blood Vein power flaring into claws or hardened limbs, Demon Marks burning dark against skin. Others attempted Spirit techniques with trembling hands, Moonlight Qi breaking and scattering under the press of advancing soldiers.
The Rong moved efficiently. How would they not? Their princess had been preparing them for this for too long now.
Hu Yeluo dismounted only when the passages grew too narrow for the horse. A soldier took the reins without being told, and she continued forward on foot, the Huxin dagger steady in her grasp.
The stronghold unfolded room by room before them… the flimsy doors splintered inward. The resistance ended much too quickly. Moonlight Qi flickered and faded in broken remnants as cultivators fell, the last traces dissolving back into the still air.
What had once been a living place …filled with training and voices and movement… became quieter with every passing moment. By the time the Rong banners were raised along the inner walls, the fighting had thinned to scattered pockets easily subdued. Hu Yeluo stepped into the highest courtyard at last. From there the mountains stretched outward in long dark lines beneath the evening light.
Behind her, the stronghold lay open and subdued, its narrow ways filled with Rong soldiers moving methodically through the aftermath. The Xuan demon sect's fortress had fallen before the sun had fully set. Hu Yeluo stood very still, the dagger resting loosely in her hand, as the last light caught along its edge.
All for Duan Jingyan. Just as she had promised.
Hu Yeluo understood why the Xuans had yielded ground so quickly on this moon. The Moonlight Qi drifting through the mountains felt thin and unsettled, it was stretched and uneven, and cultivators who depended on it found their Spirit Veins sluggish and unresponsive. The Xuans' techniques had flickered and faltered in her sight, flames guttering before they could take shape, transformations stalling halfway as Blood Veins strained against the weakened flow, while the Rong forced their Qi into motion through will alone. This was a poor moon for delicate cultivation, a moon that dulled refinement and favored blunt strength, and the Xuan sect, so reliant on careful gathering and controlled release, had met the worst possible night to stand against an army.
Hu Yeluo's eyes lifted to the shadowed spire where the Xuan Demon King awaited. Beside him, his two sons, dark and sharp as obsidian. The Rong generals bowed, their banners fluttering in respect, and a hush fell over the soldiers. "Commander Hu," Liu Shumei said, her voice low, "the honor… it is yours alone." Hu Yeluo's chest tightened, a mix of awe and the heavy weight of duty, but she said nothing, and only stepped forward, Huxin dagger in hand, her Moonlight Qi coiling around her like a living cloak.
Hu Yeluo's eyes flicked over the trio, taking in every detail with the sharp calm of a commander sizing up a battlefield. The Demon King towered above all, his crimson eyes glinting like molten iron, black horns curving back through hair streaked with silver, his skin pale but taut over sharpened angles, the faint shimmer of a Demon Mark tracing from throat to jaw. His sons, younger but equally deadly, mirrored his dark elegance. Each carried the air of predators born to command.
The Demon King's crimson eyes met hers, wide with challenge, his sons mirroring that same deadly precision. The Demon King's crimson eyes glimmered with sharp amusement as he leaned on his obsidian staff, even as his sons lay broken at Hu Yeluo's feet. "Commander Hu… you've come far," he said, voice low and smooth, "but you think this ends here? You are clever… yet blind. I have a weapon… hidden. One even you cannot hope to withstand. I have a daughter. A hidden daughter. And she will be your ruin!"
Hu Yeluo's gaze narrowed. "Show her to me, then," she said evenly, "I will end you, weapon or no."
A crooked smile spread across the Demon King's face, unshaken. "Ah… such courage. How very… Rong of you. But beware… some shadows cannot be cut."
Then, with a sharp motion, Hu Yeluo surged forward: her strike was not merely a blade but the embodiment of all the loyalty, longing, and fury she carried for Duan Jingyan. The first son fell with a hiss of dissipating Qi, the second followed, and finally the Demon King himself…their reign of terror ended by the hand of the Fox Princess of the Hu clan. All around her, banners snapped and soldiers cheered, but Hu Yeluo barely noticed. Her eyes sought only the memory of Jing'er.
The mountains faded behind them like a dark memory as the Rong army made their triumphant march home, the banners snapping brightly in the afternoon sun. Hu Yeluo rode at the head, her white-feathered horse striding effortlessly, but this time her shoulders felt lighter, the weight of battle replaced by a warm, soaring relief. Laughter rippled—soldiers teasing one another over minor scratches, Liu Shumei joking about who had the clumsiest horse, and even Hu Yeluo found herself chuckling softly, the sound unexpected but sweet. The wind carried their voices across the valley, tangling with the scent of pine and the lingering shimmer of Moonlight Qi that still clung faintly to their spirits. For the first time in many long days, the world felt expansive and safe.
The Rong army moved steadily through the valley, the pale dust rising in lazy swirls beneath countless hooves. Spirits were high, and the tension of battle had dissolved into teasing, laughter, and small competitions that made even the hardest soldiers grin.
"Commander Hu," a young spearman called out, "bet you can't race me to that ridge!" He spurred his horse forward, hooves skimming the earth.
Hu Yeluo's eyes sparkled, and she leaned forward, white-feathered horse surging with barely restrained power. "Oh? You think you can beat me? I didn't spend all those moons training for nothing!"
The soldier yelped as she shot past him, laughing, his own mount struggling to keep pace. "Wha—! You cheated! That's not fair!"
From behind, another soldier shook his head, grinning. "Ha! Commander, you're worse than the captain of the palace guard! We can't even keep up with your 'graceful stride.'"
Hu Yeluo shot him a mock glare, the corner of her mouth twitching. "Graceful stride? Please. If you were half as graceful, you'd stop tripping over your own feet!"
"Hey!" the first spearman shouted, pointing at Hu Yeluo. "She literally flies on that horse like it's made of clouds and moonlight. Clouds and moonlight! How are we supposed to compete?"
Hu Yeluo chuckled, the sound light and contagious. "Simple," she said, spinning her Huxin dagger in her hand with practiced ease. "Step one: stop whining. Step two: eat more spirit pills. Step three: maybe, just maybe, you'll survive my training next time."
The soldiers groaned theatrically, laughter echoing off the valley walls. Even Liu Shumei shook her head, smiling at the scene. "Commander… the army hasn't laughed like this in months. The princess had been too hard on then, after all."
Hu Yeluo leaned back on her horse, eyes soft as she looked over her army. "Good," she said. "Let them laugh. They earned it… even if they're hopeless at horse racing."
A chorus of mock protests rose, hooves thudding, dust swirling, and Hu Yeluo couldn't help but grin. As the army's laughter rolled down the valley, Liu Shumei nudged her horse closer to Hu Yeluo, voice low but teasing. "Commander… you've been grinning like that ever since we left the Xuan stronghold. Is it… Jing'er?"
Hu Yeluo's cheeks warmed slightly, though she hid it behind a smirk. "Maybe she crossed my mind," she said, letting her voice sound casual, though her heart ticked faster than any horse hooves could.
Liu Shumei laughed softly. "Hmm… I see. So all that bravery, all that Moonlight Qi… just to impress the princess?"
Hu Yeluo flicked the reins playfully, nudging her horse forward. "Of course not. But if she is impressed, I suppose I'll take the credit."
A few soldiers passing by overheard and snickered, prompting another round of laughter from the ranks.
The gates of Rong opened wide as the army climbed the final hill, sunlight catching on banners of orange and gold that fluttered proudly in the breeze. Hu Yeluo's heart thumped with a rush of exhilaration as she urged her white-feathered horse forward, every stride carrying her closer to the palace. The streets ahead sparkled with white stone, the scent of incense and blooming jasmines filling the air. Little girls looked up at her with awe, giggling about how they'd be like her when they grew up. Hu Yeluo could hardly contain herself: her cape whipped behind her, the Huxin dagger gleaming faintly in the sunlight, and she called out over the clamoring voices, "Rong people! The Xuan demons have fallen! We return victorious!" Her smile was wide and bright, and as she rode into the court, the banners of her people waving like flames around her, every eye on the streets seemed to hold wonder, admiration, and hope, and Hu Yeluo felt a surge of pride.
Hu Yeluo strode through the grand doors of the Rong Leader's court, her white-feathered horse halted just outside the polished marble floor as attendants bowed in rapid succession. The air inside was thick with incense and the low murmur of anxious officials, all eyes snapping to her—scarlet banners snapping behind her like tongues of flame, dust and victory clinging faintly to her armor. She held her head high, Huxin dagger at her side, Moonlight Qi still faintly shimmering along her form, and every step echoed with the weight of triumph and the pride of the Rong people. At the far end of the hall, the Rong Leader sat upon a gilded throne, robes flowing, expression grave but curious, and Hu Yeluo's boots clicked against the stone as she approached, each stride a declaration: she had returned victorious, unbroken, and with the fate of the Xuan demons sealed by her hand alone.
Before Hu Yeluo could kneel in the ceremonial bows, the hall froze, a sudden chill slicing through the warm incense-laden air. All eyes turned as Duan Jingyan stepped forward, her dewy green and soft pink robes catching the light. But her eyes which were once soft and always sparkling with warmth, were now blazing with an iciness that made Hu Yeluo's heart falter. "Traitor," Jing'er's voice rang out, clear and unyielding, echoing against the marble walls. "Hu Yeluo, you return with the blood of the Xuan demons on your hands… but you have betrayed the trust of the Rong people and the honor of our sect."
Hu Yeluo's hand tightened on her Huxin dagger, Moonlight Qi stirring faintly, but she found no words. "Princess… you've got it wrong…nothing of that—"
"Enough!" Jing'er's eyes cut through the air like sharpened steel. "Your Hu clan, filthy foxes, have always harbored evil intentions against Rong! Now, you have proved it right by trying to poison me and the Crown Prince. The Huxin dagger is made of the Ru metal, which only exists in this world in your dagger! And the Ru metal is the only way to handle the deadly Nian poison, which has been poured into our cups the morning you left. You will be punished, not as my subordinate, but as a criminal of Rong!"
"Princess!" She cried out, rushing forward, "listen to me, I haven't done anything! You're lying! You were the one who gave me—"
"Hush, you dare accuse the princess?" The Rong Leader's eyes flickered angrily, but also with surprise and hesitation, but Jing'er's presence was absolute and commanding, hellbent on having Yeluo punished.
Her Jing'er. Her Jing'er. This wasn't her Jing'er. She would never do this to her!
Soldiers surged forward, restraining Hu Yeluo as blows rained upon her, sharp, precise strikes. Pain flared, but Hu Yeluo bore it silently, every strike a bitter reminder of the bond now twisted into betrayal. When at last the beating ended, she was thrown from the steps of the grand court, and then taken in a humiliating little cart, in full public view to the forests. The people stared more than they did an hour ago, as she had arrived victorious and glowing. She was kicked out of the cart another hour later, when they had reached the Yin forests, landing hard among the roots and underbrush. Leaves and dust clung to her hair and robes, her white-feathered horse gone, the banners of victory left far behind.
"Traitor," the guards spat.
The forest pressed in around her, shadowed and silent, the wind carrying only whispers of betrayal. Hu Yeluo's chest rose and fell with ragged breaths, the Huxin dagger still clutched in her hand, bloodied but unbroken. And in the distance, the faint echo of Jing'er's voice haunted her. "Jing'er," her eyes spilled over with tears, "you promised me forever."
Hu Yeluo sank against the roots of an ancient tree, her chest heaving as tears carved tracks through the dirt and blood on her cheeks. Each sob felt like it tore pieces of her away, and a hollow emptiness spread through her, cold and heavy, like the forest itself was drawing the life from her veins. Her vision blurred, the world tilting as if the very air had turned to lead, and for the first time in her life, the Huxin dagger felt useless in her trembling grasp. Then, from the shadows, a soft cry broke through the suffocating silence. A delicate-looking girl stepped forward from the trees and vines, pale and trembling, decked in robes of the darkest red. Her long, dark hair tangled with leaves, and a too familiar demon mark crawling up the left side of her neck and jaw, her eyes the color of roses, wide with fear and sorrow. Even though she was clearly a demon with broken horns, to Yeluo, she looked like an angel in this lonely forest as she took her last breath. A breathtaking beauty, indeed. "Luoluo… don't leave me," she whispered, hands shaking as they pressed against Hu Yeluo's chest, trying to stem the slow fading of her Moonlight Qi. Luoluo…it's been a long time since she heard that name. Tears ran down the girl's face as she murmured prayers and encouragements, her own qi barely enough to brush life back into the fallen commander, desperate to hold Hu Yeluo's spirit before it slipped entirely away.
Hu Yeluo's spirit whispered: "Whoever you are… the only one to cry for me as I died… I will repay you in my next life."