“King Ning, please wait!”
Ekema called out urgently at Li Chi’s retreating back—but Li Chi showed not the slightest intention of stopping.
Li Chi’s words just now had pressed down on Ekema’s heart like a mountain, nearly suffocating him in that single instant.
He had thought that given Li Chi’s background, there wasn’t much difference between them—how could Li Chi be more capable than he was?
Any person of real ability doesn’t easily submit to another.
Yet the bearing Li Chi had just shown gave him a visceral understanding of what it meant to be utterly outclassed.
“King Ning!”
Ekema shouted again: “King Ning, I am willing to hand these two men over to you.”
From some distance away, Li Chi continued spurring his horse forward as he spoke: “All of you must remember from this day forward—the Ning Army does not negotiate. Should something like today’s situation ever arise again, if I want something and the enemy will not give it, then I will simply take it by force. Even if the enemy offers it willingly, it still cannot stand. From this day forward, let every enemy of the Ning Army know—the Ning Army gives its enemies only one chance, ever.”
“*Hu!*”
Dantai Yajing glanced at Li Chi—those three words, *does not negotiate*, had set his blood surging.
On the rebel side, Ekema watched the King Ning and his companions ride back, and his heart felt as though something had seized it with savage force.
“Supreme Commander, what do we do?!”
Someone beside him said: “Why not, while the King Ning has not yet ridden far, order the arrow formation to shoot him down?”
“Kill him?”
Ekema said through nearly clenched teeth: “Without killing him, he is already going to wipe out my entire force. If we kill him, the Ning Army will leave not a blade of grass standing here.”
And yet how could he have known that, setting aside Li Chi’s martial skill entirely, just speaking of Dantai Yajing and Liu Ge alone—even with an arrow volley raining down on them, those two would throw their lives into shielding Li Chi from every shaft.
“Arrow formation!”
Ekema roared: “Prepare to meet the enemy!”
He knew that his only option now was to use his troop numbers to fight a retreating delaying action, sacrificing part of his force to obstruct the Ning Army—then wait for the Shuntian Sect master Juhe to arrive with reinforcements. If they could establish a standoff, that would be the best outcome.
He had maintained such careful balance in his dealings with the Ning Army all this time—wasn’t it precisely to preserve this force?
Who could have imagined that killing Xiao Liu and Xiao Jiu would bring a decisive battle down upon him?
If he had known it would come to this, he would never have killed them.
Li Chi returned to his main formation, his expression still calm.
“Liu Ge.”
“Subordinate is present!”
“It’s yours.”
“Yes.”
Liu Ge gave his acknowledgment, then turned to face the rebel formation and drew his long blade.
“Prepare to attack.”
With a single shouted command, signal riders burst out from the formation on both flanks at full gallop, calling out as they rode.
“Ning Army—prepare to attack!”
“Ning Army—prepare to attack!”
As the signal riders thundered past, the order to prepare to attack rang out in waves, and the Ning Army’s formation shifted and transformed.
Liu Ge raised his head, then struck his own chest armor three times.
*Thud. Thud-thud.*
Like the beating of a war drum.
The fighting soldiers under his command raised their hands and struck their own chest armor in answer—*thud, thud-thud.*
“You must all remember—Cheng Wujie and his brothers Xiao Liu and Xiao Jiu, though they only recently joined us, were your comrades and brothers in arms.”
Li Chi called out in a loud voice: “The enemy has slain our comrades. This is a blood debt.”
“You must also remember—the Ning Army yields to no enemy, retreats before no enemy. Those of us who wear armor and carry steel are combat soldiers. And combat soldiers—face whatever enemy stands before them, and do not turn back until that enemy is broken.”
Li Chi shouted: “Someone wants a battle—then let them know, no one is more eager for battle than the Ning Army, and no one fights better than the Ning Army!”
“When I don’t want to fight you, I simply won’t. When I decide to fight you—no one can stop it from happening.”
“Never retreat until the enemy is broken!”
Liu Ge leveled his long blade forward: “Attack!”
One command.
The Ning Army’s combat soldiers began grinding forward.
As they accelerated into their charge, their footfalls seemed to shake the very earth beneath them.
Across this northwest plain, the Ning Army in black battle dress surged forward like a sweeping tide.
Such momentum had already put fear into the hearts of the rebels across the field.
Ekema’s expression had gone utterly grim. Even as he ordered his men to prepare for battle, he glanced once more at those two corpses bound to the wooden frames.
“Someone—take those bodies down!”
Ekema suddenly called out.
Within that single shout, how much dread was concealed.
He knew this battle had every likelihood of being lost, and so—at the very least, he must not let the Ning Army actually slaughter his entire force.
This was a battle in which both sides already knew the outcome before it had even begun.
Ekema ordered three thousand spearmen into formation, then ordered three thousand archers to apply maximum pressure to suppress the Ning Army’s advance.
He also set his two most capable subordinate generals to oversee the spear formation and arrow formation respectively, while he himself went to the rear guard—claiming he needed to plan troop dispositions.
Those in front had no reason to suspect anything. They arrayed their formations and waited in readiness for the Ning Army’s charge.
But Ekema, upon reaching the rear guard, hesitated not a single moment—he summoned the rear troops and quietly withdrew them from the other side of the camp.
Those six thousand Shuntian Sect soldiers out front genuinely believed their Supreme Commander had gone to muster more troops and devise a plan to break the enemy.
By the time they realized what had happened, it was already too late.
This battle was utterly without suspense.
In less than an hour, the fighting was over.
Liu Ge led his troops storming into the rebel camp. And those rebel soldiers who had been left behind—once they grasped that they had been abandoned—lost all will to fight, and dropped to their knees en masse begging for mercy.
Inside the rebel camp.
As Li Chi walked forward, he spotted at a glance the women confined behind a fence nearby.
Young and old alike, clothing barely covering their bodies, every face wearing the same blank, hollow expression.
“Liu Ge.”
Li Chi called out as he walked.
Liu Ge quickly fell into step beside him: “Your Highness.”
Li Chi said: “Have the prisoners of war identify one another. Whoever is first to identify another person’s crimes will have some of their own crimes mitigated.”
Liu Ge was just about to acknowledge the order when Li Chi added: “Gather all the common people from the surrounding villages and towns to watch. Let the civilians watch them identify each other.”
Liu Ge’s eyes lit up.
He looked toward the confined women and asked: “And these people?”
Li Chi said: “Assign medical officers to come over—treat them one by one. Give them clothes and food. Ask them where they are from. Those who want to return home should all be escorted back under military guard.”
“You must remember—do not speak of these matters in their presence. They have already suffered enough. If they are then put on display and stared at by others on top of that, how could any of them survive it. Ask them carefully and privately. Those who do not wish to remain here can be arranged to go live in Jizhou.”
Liu Ge nodded: “Understood.”
Li Chi sighed: “For these women, this nightmare is something they will never fully wake from. Let no one tear their wounds open and put them on display for others to see—only to then declare with righteous indignation, *look how much they are hurting.*”
Liu Ge repeated Li Chi’s instructions: “This subordinate understands. I will ask them carefully. Those who wish to return home will be given a proper escort home. Those who do not wish to stay in this place will be sent to Jizhou.”
Li Chi said: “Go and make the arrangements.”
Walking a little further, he came upon open ground ahead where bodies lay covered with white cloth.
He pulled back the cloth. It was Xiao Liu and Xiao Jiu.
Li Chi crouched down, studying the faces of those two men, thinking about how much pain Cheng Wujie would feel when he woke and saw them like this.
“Send scouts to track the enemy’s direction of retreat.”
Li Chi was silent for a moment before giving the order: “Since we’ve fought, we fight to the end. Since we’re collecting a debt, we collect every last bit of it.”
This battle wasn’t even worth celebrating. From start to finish, it had taken only a short hour.
Li Chi stood, then covered Xiao Liu and Xiao Jiu’s bodies with the white cloth again.
“They are orphans with no fathers and no mothers. And yet I feel I have failed not only them, but their fathers and mothers.”
Li Chi let out a long, heavy breath, then bent into a deep bow toward the bodies.
By the next day, the common people from all the surrounding villages and towns had been summoned. They arrived trembling with fear, assuming the Ning Army intended to settle accounts with them as well.
In the parade ground of the rebel camp, several thousand rebel soldiers knelt in the open space, surrounded by a dense press of civilians.
Liu Ge issued the order: commanding these prisoners to mutually denounce each other’s crimes—to expose the Shuntian Sect’s crimes. Those who spoke first would be spared punishment.
At that, the rebel soldiers threw caution aside and all began talking over each other at once.
The entire parade ground erupted into noise, nothing but shouting voices everywhere—and before long, people were screaming accusations back and forth.
Still bound, they rammed their shoulders against each other, or simply headbutted one another directly.
The watching civilians were all struck dumb.
Li Chi watched for a while, found it repulsive, and turned away. He gave an order: “Bring those who spoke first and earned exemption before me.”
At the rear of the camp, Li Chi found a place to sit down.
Whether the civilians watching all this would find some awakening in it—Li Chi hadn’t thought much about that.
What he was thinking about was the future.
How could common people be made self-reliant?
Before long, several of the surrendered soldiers were brought before Li Chi. Having just denounced their fellows, they had—per Li Chi’s military order—received a pardon.
So when they found themselves before Li Chi, all of them immediately dropped to their knees.
Li Chi looked them over, too tired even to feel contempt.
“You were pardoned because you denounced others. I say what I mean—I will not go back on my word in this matter.”
Li Chi leaned forward slightly, studying the men kneeling before him: “But in your own hearts, do you know whether you yourselves have done evil?”
Those men shrank back in fear, not daring to meet Li Chi’s gaze.
“I said that those who first denounced the crimes of others would have those crimes pardoned.”
Li Chi continued: “What I want to ask is about a different matter. The three people who came here earlier were the Supreme Commander’s childhood companions and friends. You must have seen them.”
Those men nodded their heads repeatedly.
Li Chi asked: “When Ekema struck and wounded Cheng Wujie, who was present? Who witnessed it with their own eyes?”
One of them, still kneeling, said: “I… I witnessed it. At the time I was assigned to guard that courtyard. I saw—I saw the Supreme Commander—no, I saw that criminal Ekema give that heavy man a slash.”
Li Chi nodded: “And when the other two made their escape, you must have joined the pursuit to kill them.”
That man suddenly jerked his head up and looked at Li Chi, sensing that something was wrong.
Li Chi said calmly: “Cut them all down.”
The Ning soldiers immediately stepped forward and dragged those men away.
The man shrieked: “King Ning, you can’t go back on your word! You said you wouldn’t kill me!”
Li Chi glanced at him: “The capital offense that was to be pardoned has been pardoned. This is a separate matter.”
Not far away, several dull sounds reached them—heads meeting the ground.
Li Chi was silent for a moment before ordering: “From among the rebel soldiers, select several hundred men. Have them return to Ekema’s army. Once there, let all the rebel soldiers know—I will only kill those who joined the pursuit to kill my comrades that day. Whoever participated, dies. Those who had no part in this matter, I will not pursue. They may go free. Let them spread this upon returning. Additionally, arrange for scouts to follow them at a distance—they will lead us to wherever Ekema has retreated.”
Li Chi stood: “This debt—I won’t leave for Cheng Wujie to collect.”
It was the same principle as the way he had settled matters for those women.
If they were made to stand in public and speak aloud of the crimes those beasts had committed against them—that was tearing their wounds open for everyone to see.
Already bleeding and raw, wounded again—left without a shred of dignity remaining.
And Li Chi hadn’t intended to hand the matter of vengeance to Cheng Wujie, for two reasons. First, because Li Chi was unwilling to wait. Second, because the reasoning was the same: for Cheng Wujie, cutting Ekema down with his own hands to avenge Xiao Liu and Xiao Jiu—would that truly bring him joy?
Li Chi walked alone toward the distance, waving a hand to signal his attendants not to follow.
He walked to the village entrance and looked toward the parade ground. The civilians were now in a near-frenzy—they had surged into the grounds and were raining blows on the surrendered soldiers.
What a scene.
Li Chi didn’t like it.
But it had to happen.
—