The mountain path was littered with the charred ruins of the wooden fortifications the Ning army had built — a desolate sight, the timbers fallen and scattered.

One could only imagine what the Chu soldiers had felt, charging down from here just a day ago. All that hope, all that fire, all that momentum.

Yesterday morning, over one hundred thousand Chu troops had come down from this mountain. Now fewer than three thousand were retreating back up. How could that not cut to the bone?

Once inside the mountain, cavalry had to slow — the narrow, uneven paths made speed impossible. About halfway up, the Tiger-Leopard cavalry were forced to dismount.

Luo Jing was not especially worried. Prince Wu’s retreating force was small — perhaps three thousand men. His own Tiger-Leopard cavalry numbered five thousand, and Wang Ji had brought a full company of Tang Pidi’s personal guard — not the standard twelve hundred soldiers of a regular Ning company, but the three hundred sixty men of an elite formation. Tang Pidi’s personal guards could not be measured by ordinary standards.

“Stay alert,” Luo Jing warned, though he felt no great concern.

They followed the path upward. When they reached the wooden fortification, he expected to find the gates shut. Instead they were open — wide open.

As if Prince Wu were standing there, smiling and waving them in.

Luo Jing turned to Wang Ji: “I’ll take the lead and probe ahead. You bring up the rear and watch for anything wrong.”

Wang Ji had no argument. He had come to keep Luo Jing from getting himself killed — covering the rear was just as good. He nodded and took his company to the back of the column.

Once inside the wooden fort, Luo Jing felt the first trace of unease. The camp was enormous — built for two hundred thousand soldiers without crowding them. Prince Wu’s two or three thousand men could disappear into it without difficulty.

“Keep your guard up!”

He called out again.

Then he heard a horse whinny. He spun toward the sound and waved two scouts forward.

The two men pressed against the wooden walls, slipping from cover to cover, and carefully crept to the corner. They peered around it, then turned and signaled.

Luo Jing brought his men up. One scout pointed toward the stable area and murmured: “They’re hiding over there. I saw someone peek out.”

Luo Jing gave a short nod. Here, between two rows of wooden buildings, the space narrowed — he did not ignore the constraint.

“Wang Ji,” Luo Jing turned. “Hold your men back here. If anything goes wrong, support us.”

Wang Ji said: “Don’t worry, General Luo.”

Luo Jing took a breath, raised his hand, and the Tiger-Leopard cavalry swept out.

Sure enough, Chu soldiers were in the stable. The moment the Tiger-Leopard cavalry appeared, they rose and opened with bows and crossbows.

Luo Jing charged at the front, his iron spear sweeping up and down, batting arrows from the air — none could touch him. He was first to reach the stable, spearing through the feeding trough with a single thrust and sending several Chu soldiers crashing to the ground, then stepping inside.

In the middle of the close-quarters fighting, shouts broke out behind him. Luo Jing spun — and there was Prince Wu, appearing at their rear with a flanking force, already closing around Wang Ji’s men.

Luo Jing broke off and sprinted back to help Wang Ji.

He ran hard, watching helplessly as Wang Ji parried twice and was then run through the throat by Prince Wu’s spear. The body was lifted and flung aside.

Luo Jing’s eyes went wide. He let out a roar: “You old bastard!”

Wang Ji was one of Tang Pidi’s personal guard officers. He had come only to bring Luo Jing back — and now that ancient man had killed him first.

Prince Wu killed Wang Ji, shook his spear to clear the body, and looked at Luo Jing with the faintest smile — all mockery.

A gesture from him, and the Chu soldiers fell back and scattered. No attempt to finish off the company. Quick in, quick out.

Luo Jing came charging back — and Prince Wu was already gone around the corner.

Looking at the bodies on the ground, Luo Jing’s eyes reddened. He knelt and moved Wang Ji’s body to a clean patch of ground. “I did you wrong,” he said. “I will avenge you.”

He set the body carefully, then looked at Wang Ji’s soldiers: “Stay with him. Don’t move unless you have to.” Then he led his men in the direction Prince Wu had gone.

He rounded the corner — and found Prince Wu waiting for him. Same calm, same faint smile.

Luo Jing erupted with fury and gave chase.

Prince Wu turned and slipped into a building beside the path. Luo Jing kicked the door off its hinges — and found the room empty.

He led his men around the back of the building, where a row of Chu soldiers waited in ambush and unleashed a volley the moment they appeared.

Luo Jing kept his spear spinning without pause, deflecting the arrows in a continuous arc. The men fell back around the side of the building.

Then shouts erupted behind them again. Luo Jing’s stomach dropped. He had walked right into the old man’s distraction tactic.

He wheeled back — and Wang Ji’s men were under attack, taking serious casualties. The moment Luo Jing appeared, the attackers scattered.

Tang Pidi’s personal guard — every one of them an elite soldier — had been led around and ambushed in the same way twice, never even getting to show what they were worth.

“That old man knows this ground far better than we do,” Luo Jing said. “We keep chasing and we’ll keep getting turned around.”

He had no wish to give up the chase, but he had no wish to keep feeding Wang Ji’s men into the grinder either. He ordered: “Bring the fallen brothers. I’ll escort you out. Once you’re down the mountain, don’t come back.”

He bent and lifted Wang Ji’s body himself, then led the survivors toward the exit.

But halfway there, he saw Chu soldiers sealing the fort’s main gate. More Chu soldiers had already taken positions on the wooden walls to defend it.

Prince Wu had no intention of letting anyone leave.

These Chu soldiers had reached a dead end. They had nothing left to fear. Every Ning soldier they killed was profit — and until Tang Pidi’s forces could spare men to assault the fort, they intended to keep every last one of Luo Jing’s men inside.

Luo Jing’s temper flared — and then he caught himself. *That’s exactly what the old man wants.* He wants us to assault the gate and bleed ourselves out against it piece by piece.

Luo Jing had more men than the Chu remnants, and the Chu soldiers had been fighting for nearly a full day and night. They were weaker. So the old man had to resort to these schemes to whittle down the numbers.

*He thinks I’m a fool.* “Fall back,” Luo Jing ordered.

They withdrew to their previous position. “They want us to assault the gate,” Luo Jing told his men. “We won’t take the bait. Time works against them, not us. Tang Pidi’s forces will reach this place sooner or later. When they start panicking, they’ll come to us.”

He gave the order: “Split into two groups — one on the perimeter holding a defensive line, one resting in place. Let’s see how long they can last.”

Luo Jing’s withdrawal to a defensive posture was, in all honesty, something Prince Wu had not expected.

Watching from the wooden wall, Prince Wu felt a flicker of genuine annoyance. He had written Luo Jing off as a brave but simple-minded hothead. The young man showing a flash of strategic sense now was… irritating.

“So now you remember to wait for Tang Pidi’s reinforcements?”

Prince Wu let out a cold sound, and looked up at the sky. “You shouldn’t have followed me in here.”

The light was fading now. The sun had dropped below the horizon, and inside the mountain the dark came fast.

In the wooden fort, with the Ning soldiers unfamiliar with the layout, Prince Wu had no intention of giving Luo Jing time to wait for backup.

He called Cui Yuansheng over and spoke quietly to him. When Cui Yuansheng heard the plan, his face went pale. “Your Highness — this—”

“We’re already trapped and cannot break out,” Prince Wu said, and gave a soft smile. “If we can still kill that Luo Jing, it will leave Tang Pidi in real pain. Say no more. Do as I’ve planned.”

Cui Yuansheng had no choice but to agree. He took his unit to prepare.

It wasn’t long — barely a quarter-hour — before the mountain went completely black. Hand in front of your face: nothing.

Luo Jing knew the old man would use the darkness to strike. He ordered torches and fires lit around the perimeter.

But the light only illuminated the Ning side. Arrows came from the dark — from men he couldn’t see — and Ning soldiers began to fall.

Luo Jing hardened his resolve. Fine. If they were both in darkness, what difference did it make?

He ordered every torch and fire extinguished, then formed up in the blackness to wait.

As expected — the moment Ning’s lights went out, the Chu soldiers did not wait long. They came in from every direction.

The Chu forces had fewer men now than Luo Jing, but they knew this ground, and their arrows came from unpredictable angles.

Then, from directly behind Luo Jing, Prince Wu drove in a flanking force.

The iron spear rose and fell, clearing several Ning soldiers from the path, and the Chu forces split the Ning line.

“I’ve been waiting for you!”

Luo Jing charged forward, driving his spear at Prince Wu. In the darkness, Prince Wu seemed to catch the glint of cold light and swept his own spear around to deflect the blow.

Luo Jing felt the power behind that parry — and felt how little strength was in it.

“Old bastard — have you run out of power?!”

He pressed the advantage, spear faster with every thrust. After several parried exchanges, Prince Wu seemed to catch his foot on something — and stumbled back, falling.

Luo Jing could not let this pass. He drove his spear straight down, into Prince Wu’s chest.

A sharp clang — the sound of a breastplate shattering. Luo Jing felt clearly that his spear had penetrated. He threw his full weight behind it.

And in that moment, a Chu soldier who had been lying on the ground suddenly rose and brought a saber chopping at Luo Jing’s neck.

It was a sudden, explosive strike — Luo Jing had no warning. But he was at the height of his ability; his speed, strength, and reflexes were without flaw.

He caught the blade as it moved and stepped into the blow — not to dodge, but to take it on the shoulder, and that impact drove the attacker back. Before the man could recover, Luo Jing had his hand at the man’s throat, and then his fist crashed into the man’s face.

The force was massive. The helmet flew off. And in the thin moonlight, as the helmet fell, white hair scattered across the dark.

“I knew it would come to this!”

Luo Jing, in the weak moonlight, saw clearly: the person he held by the throat was Prince Wu himself.

The hatred in his eyes blazed like fire.

He drove Prince Wu to the ground, mounted his chest, and began hammering his fists down like hammers.

“Old villain — today I avenge my father!”

Under the storm of blows, Prince Wu’s face was destroyed almost instantly.

“Today… you fall to my hand. What is there left for you to say?”

Luo Jing seized Prince Wu by the throat and hauled him upright. The blood had been beaten from the old man’s face, the flesh barely clinging to the bone. A terrible sight.

Yet Prince Wu managed, barely, to smile. “Your father was a fool. And so are you…”

Then he spat blood into Luo Jing’s face.

Luo Jing screamed, closed both hands around Prince Wu’s head, and wrenched with every ounce of strength. A sharp crack — Prince Wu’s head turned nearly halfway round and dropped limp.

Luo Jing let the body fall and planted his foot on Prince Wu’s chest, then threw back his head and roared at the sky: “Father — I have avenged you—!”

A wet, dull sound. A sudden sharp pain in his lower back.

He spun. The man he had just speared — *the man he thought was dead* — was still alive. A spear had been driven into Luo Jing’s body.

Luo Jing erupted, seized the shaft and tore it free, and in the same motion drove it through the man’s throat.

He killed the second man — and then his legs gave way. Hand pressed to the wound at his back, he toppled sideways.

He fell in the same spot where Prince Wu had fallen. Both of them face down in the dirt. Both of them with their eyes open.

—

What had happened — before the attack began, Prince Wu had called Cui Yuansheng to him and had him dressed in the Grand General’s armor. More than that: he gave Cui Yuansheng the padded inner armor he wore against his skin.

“That Luo Jing is arrogant and proud. If I were at full strength, I could match him by force — but I have nothing left. I am not his equal.

“You wear my general’s armor, wear my inner armor. He will go all-out against what he thinks is me. I will hide as a common soldier and strike from ambush.

“But I know Luo Jing is in his prime, and I am spent. The ambush will almost certainly fail. He will counter it.”

Prince Wu had looked at Cui Yuansheng then. “You remember the inner armor — it was something the Princess Consort found after tremendous effort. It is remarkably strong. Luo Jing’s spear will not kill you through it. But don’t move too soon. Wait until I am dead.

“Only when I die will Luo Jing lower his guard and strut. It is who he is. It will always be who he is. And only then will you have a chance to kill him.

“You will not survive after killing him.”

Prince Wu put his hand on Cui Yuansheng’s shoulder.

“I have dragged all of you into this.”

He raised his head and looked up at the sky.

“Great Chu. Your Majesty. This old subject… has done his best.”

—