Qi Huilian turned his back to Chen Zecuan and suddenly let out a sobbing cry. The heavy rain soaked him through but could not extinguish the fervent blood that had burned for years within him. He used to call the crown prince master, but at this moment, he did not want to look back at Chen Zecuan.
"This rotten heaven and earth, turn it over and achieve your own path. Lanzhou, go! Do not look back! Master will bear the weight of those four hundred thousand souls for you; do not be afraid," he said faintly as blood splattered in the rain, falling to his knees and looking up at the sky, murmuring: "Do not be afraid..."
A thunderous shock of lightning roared. Chen Zecuan suddenly slid to the ground with a cry. He stared blankly, letting the rain pummel him, finally giving voice after six years of despair. His eyes filled with madness as he grasped Yuanshan Xue and drew his blade.
"Han Cheng—!"
He hated this world, these faces.
Chen Zecuan supported himself to stand, breaking through the rain under the weight of many bodies. He killed one, then another, stepping over corpses as if abandoned by fate. His blade cut swiftly like mercury, spraying blood onto Chen Zecuan's face.
He was dazed and disoriented; the blood flowed down his cheeks like tears.
Han Cheng retreated again, shouting: "Kill him!"
A raindrop shattered in the wind as a long arrow streaked past Han Cheng's face. Xiao Chiyao leaped down from the city walls, kicking over people before drawing his blade to stab them through. He pushed forward through corpses, his blood already soaking his palms.
Xiao Chiyao dragged Chen Zecuan back with one arm and blew a whistle. With fierce wings, he swooped into chaos, pecking at Han Cheng's right eye. Han Cheng covered his face in panic as the hooves of soldiers outside grew louder; Ding Tao had brought reinforcements.
"Break through the gate!" Ding Tao shouted hoarsely.
The imperial guards rushed forward but stopped when they heard the heavy city gate being lifted again.
Fei Sheng dragged the chain, panting heavily, backing away with the Jinyiwei. He cursed: "F*ck my ancestors! So heavy, damn it! Chief—! Mount and run!"
Wangtaoxue rushed in through a gap, his battle cries drowning out the silence of Qudu.
The same deafening battle cries echoed across border regions as well. Lu Guangbai was nearly too exhausted to hold his spear. He called out: "Where is the reinforcements?"
A deputy general, slashed several times, replied: "They... they haven't come."
Rain and wind howled together. Lu Guangbai turned around, looking at the camp direction.
Xiao Chiyao had already mounted his horse, pressing Chen Zecuan beneath him as he dashed through the rain toward the city gate.
Thunder rumbled and lightning flashed, tearing open the sky. The rain fell fiercely.
Lu Guangbai ripped off his old cape and stuck his spear in the ground. In the wind and rain, he said: "We cannot fight anymore."
The deputy general lay on a sand slope, watching him.
"My destiny has kept me here all my life, but this is not the path I chose," Lu Guangbai took off his armor bearing Zhou dynasty marks, wiping away the dust and frost from his face. His eyes were full of weariness as he said with self-mockery, "The Yellow Sand devoured my hands and feet; I no longer want to submit to the fickle destiny. Imperial edicts cannot save my soldiers, the court cannot feed my horses."
Xiao Chiyao had already rushed out of Qudu, pursued by countless enemies behind him. They charged forward as if tearing through the black rain.
"I no longer wish to sacrifice myself for this."
Lu Guangbai closed his eyes, blood dripping from his fingers into the sand. His throat moved, and when he opened them again, they were heavy with depression.
Chen Zecuan's face was washed clean of blood; a choked sob escaped his throat in this desperate flight. They had thrown off their former obedience to authority like a sword through the rain.
Lu Guangbai washed his hands in the rain once more before grasping his long spear again.
They were prisoners chased by fate, once willing to bear chains. But the storm washed away the great edifice; that collapse came like a flood.
Onward! Onward!
"I must climb that mountain."
"I will fight for myself!"
— End of Upper Volume —