The sun beat down without mercy, and all the while inside a tent within the Tuhan campgrounds, the harsh sounds of rope against skin could be heard.
"Hhaa...Hhaa..."
With his hands bound in front of him to a wooden pole embedded deep within the floor, Manchu clutched onto it tightly and panted with uneven breaths. Another whip landed on his freshly cut skin, and a searing pain lanced through his head until colorful spots flashed in front of his eyes.
His groan came from deep within his chest that twisted into raspy, painful moans by the time they left his cracking lips. His skin had been broken so many times by the whip - he could feel the wounds sting and open on every breath. Every movement caused some muscle, skin, or bone to ache. Manchu's eyes closed as he sucked himself into a deeper place – a place away from the dull pain.
With an emotionless expression frozen on his face, An Ruo circled Manchu like a predator scanning his prey. Manchu coughed violently, sending a thin spray of crimson blood onto the dirt floor, some landing on his bound fists.
Standing in front of him, An Ruo stared blankly at Manchu, the man's face smeared with dirt and blood. Manchu looked up at him and blinked through the strands of sweaty hair in his face. He couldn't help but grin weakly, his teeth stained lightly red.
An Ruo said nothing. Instead, he continued looking at him with emotionless eyes.
"Just remember, your devotion toward him led you to this situation." He spoke each word coldly as if to engrave it deep within the other's mind.
"A wise decision on my part," Manchu chuckled in a raw, raspy voice thick with pain.
An Ruo's gaze narrowed. He slashed toward his face with a long, thin whip. The cut bled, but beside Manchu's hand, he scarcely felt it.
"In two days, you will be executed in front of the entire army. When that's over, I will send your head to my father," He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "...then send An Sun's next."
Manchu narrowed his eyes as he stared darkly at An Ruo, who looked at him with gratification. With the whip on his hip, he stepped out of the tent. He turned to the guard posted outside.
"Send him some water and whatever leftover scraps of meat or bread we have."
"Yes, sir." The guard bowed his head and left to carry out his order.
An Ruo watched him leave. His fingertips moved to the whip on his side as he touched the rough rope. When he lifted his hand, there was a fresh smudge of blood on his fingertips. He rubbed it between his fingers and suddenly smiled, eyes filled with bloodlust.
...
On the other side of the Western Empire, three figures traveled to the Imperial Palace. The rain came and went, but there was more gray than blue within the sky, and all the streams were running high. The rain continued all through the morning, lashing the surface of the rivers and turning the grass into mud and puddles.
It fell soft and steady, muffling the sound of their horses' hooves and running down their faces. The rain was light—just enough for them to wear their cloak's without soaking it through.
Walking along at a slow pace as the light faded around them, Rin found her exhaustion weighing heavy on her. She needed sleep, but she dared not.
Yet after a while, the motion of her horse became as soothing as it rocked her back and forth, and Rin found her eyes growing heavy. She let them close, just for a second, and then snapped them wide again.
She couldn't fall asleep. Not now anyway.
Rin knuckled at her eye and rubbed it hard to keep it open, clutching the reins tightly and kicking her mount forward. When she caught up to An Sun and General Donghai, she quickly forced her exhaustion away in worry of them noticing.
