As the enemy drew closer, Yuehwa could make out the stiff, lumbering gait of the "soldiers", dragging their broken and rusty swords along the soil as they marched on the Gi camp. Their skin ash grey, with dried blood caking their cheeks and lips, gashes in their armour where a blade or arrow had struck—and for some, still remained. There was no longer any spark left in their glazed eyes, no breath leaving their nostrils or lips.
They had once been brave men, fighting for their kingdoms and crowns, but now each one had been reduced to a puppet, unable to rest or be allowed to pass on to the afterlife.
Yuehwa closed her eyes and said a prayer for all the souls of the fallen soldiers of Dahai, Feng, Gi and Hwa who had been cruelly forced to fight one more day.
"They've used the dark arts to raise the dead to fight for them," Shoya mused, his forehead creasing in a frown.
"This is... wrong," Ru Fei murmured. He quickly pressed his palms together and lowered his head, muttering lines of scripture.
The reason why dark magic was outlawed across the kingdoms was because of the inhumane and diabolical source of its power—sacrifice. For Lady Kang to have raised an undead army of this scale could only mean that she had paid a river's worth of blood in exchange. Even for a seasoned assassin like Yuehwa, it was frightening to imagine how many more innocent lives had been lost.
Beside her, Baixun was already busy deploying his troops.
"Get the archers ready at every watchpost, and get the rest of the battalions arranged in the Black Tortoise defence formation," he commanded. The Gi generals bellowed in acknowledgement, then hurried off to rally their men.
The gates to the army camp swung open and the Gi army spilled out, arranging themselves in neat rows like a well-oiled machine. Ten thousand men, ready and armed in barely an incense stick's worth of time.
"Looks like I have to take you a bit more seriously if we are ever on opposing sides on the battlefield," Yuehwa quipped.
Baixun's lips quirked in a grimace. "Assuming I even have an army left after today," he replied. "I'm not sure if regular weapons will work against these things though."
"Blades and arrows can only slow them down, but will not be enough to put them to rest for good," a new voice answered.
Sheng Yun was making her way up the stairs to the watchpost, her clean, snow-white cloak cutting a stark contrast to the tarnished, blackened armour of the soldiers on the frontline. Behind her came her disciple, Xin'ai, who looked as timid and jumpy as Yuehwa remembered. Yuehwa thought the young girl's wide-eyed gaze seemed to linger upon her for a bit longer than she liked, and it made her skin crawl.
"What are you doing here?" Shoya demanded, looking displeased to see the chief astrologer.
"I did a reading of the constellations a few days ago and saw that a great catastrophe was imminent. The future of the five kingdoms hangs on a balance, Your Highnesses, and I thought I might be of help here."
"Did the stars tell you how to destroy an undead army? Or maybe get rid of dark magic altogether?" Yuehwa said scornfully.
Sheng Yun had a habit of appearing uninvited, spouting some mystical nonsense about stars and destinies—and she hated it. The chief astrologer reminded her of Lady Kang. The same calm, self-assured demeanour, the same supercilious, over-confident tone, the same know-it-all attitude. Maybe this was what became of people who lived with their heads in the clouds, obsessed with the supernatural and things that did not—should not—exist on this earth.
The chief astrologer laughed when she heard Yuehwa's remark. "Alas, the stars like to keep many secrets, even from their closest confidantes," she said. There was a slight upward curl of her dark red lips that made Yuehwa doubt every word coming out of her mouth. "Besides killing every last practitioner of the dark arts and burying their sacrilegious knowledge for good, I'm afraid I do not have an alternative way of ending this war. However, I do know that we can put to rest—permanently—a resurrected soldier by piercing their hearts with lead."
"Lead?" Baixun frowned. "But our weapons are all made from bronze or steel. The only things that are made from lead in the camp are—"
"Horseshoes," Yuehwa said.
"Yes, horseshoes."
Lead was too soft for blade-making, but its malleability made it suitable for moulding into U-shaped horseshoes that were fitted onto every warhorse. Baixun's army had brought along at least two thousand warhorses for their cavalry.
"Commander Hu," Baixun called out to his nearest subordinate. "Gather some men to remove and melt down all the horseshoes on our warhorses, then get as many arrow tips, spearheads and sword blades coated with lead. Quickly!"
"It is not every lifetime one gets to witness such grotesque grandeur," Sheng Yun said, gazing at the dark mass that was still approaching from the horizon. There was a slight tremor in her voice that made her sound almost excited at the prospect of what was to come.
Bitch, Yuehwa thought. Ignoring the woman, she turned to Baixun and the others, saying, "If the entire army is sustaining on the force of dark magic, that means Lady Kang or her fellow brethren must be close by." It was not possible for a practitioner to extend the reach of their power over too far a distance.
"To catch the thieves, we must first catch their queen," Shoya said.
The most obvious method to end this devastation was still on the table—to kill the ones who were responsible for everything. And killing a mark was what Yuehwa and Shoya specialised in.
They exchanged a knowing glance, not a princess and a prince, but as the Phoenix and the White Scorpion, the two most notorious assassins the five kingdoms had ever known.
Watching by the sidelines, a bitter smile hung upon Baixun's lips. "May the heavens protect you," he said.
#
For better or worse, the undead army of Dahai was not unleashed upon the Gi encampment immediately. Instead, it came to a stop just beyond the reach of the Gi archers, remaining motionless, as if frozen in an unnatural slumber.
Only temporarily, Yuehwa guessed. Although she didn't have a good understanding of dark magic, she supposed it would require a significant investment of energy to sustain such a large army of corpses. Even the most powerful of sorcerers were only human, and there were limits to humanity.
Hopefully the short moment of respite would buy them enough time to prepare the Gi soldiers to fend off this threat, or at least give them a fighting chance.
The makeshift forges at the army camp burnt brightly through the night as basin after basin of horseshoes were melted down into a dark, molten grey, then used to plate the surfaces of any arrow, spear or sword that could be found. Everyone went about their duties in stoic silence, an oppressive cloud of doom hanging upon their heads.
Yuehwa sat warming her hands by an open fire, observing a young soldier with his eyes closed and palms pressed together in prayer. He looked barely fourteen, almost too young to be in a place like this. The boy kowtowed three times, then quickly grabbed his shield and hurried off, his oversized armour clanging noisily as he went.
She stared back at the dancing flames in front of her, thinking of her own nephew Yang-yang, who would be safe back within the Hwa palace.
May I return you a time of peace, Yang-yang.
She knew without a doubt that she would give her life in a heartbeat if that meant it would ensure the safety and happiness of those that she loved, to ensure that the horrific vision she had been forced to witness would never come to pass.
A small twig cracked under the weight of someone's shifting foot.
"Who's there?" Yuehwa spun around, her gaze piercing through the darkness between the white tents.
To her surprise, she found a pair of large, startled eyes looking back at her.
"You?"
Xin'ai was cowering by the side of a tent, her tiny frame visibly trembling, as if terrified at having been discovered. She backed two steps away, like a cat about to slink into the shadows.
"Wait, come back," Yuehwa said, her words coming out a lot sharper than she had intended.
The girl froze.
"Is there something you want to tell me? I've noticed you watching me ever since you got here, and back at Muya. Why?"
Xin'ai rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet, her eyes darting about in a haphazard manner. She was muttering something under her breath, talking to herself perhaps, but Yuehwa couldn't pick up a single thing she was saying.
Her patience was wearing thin. She didn't like Sheng Yun and that dislike was unfortunately extended to her young apprentice.
Walking over, she grabbed the girl by the arm and brought her over to the fire, forcing her to sit down. Under the orange glow of the flames, Xin'ai's pale complexion looked almost like glazed porcelain, and the awkward jutting of her elbows emphasised exactly how frail and malnourished she looked. For someone who was the sole apprentice to the chief astrologer of Feng, Xin'ai looked little better than an orphan on the streets, were it not for the heavy silk robes that swamped her.
She's only a child.
Yuehwa sighed.
"Sheng Yun said that you have a great affinity for reading the will of the heavens. You must be a very blessed child."
Xin'ai shook her head frantically, her little face crumpling as if she was about to melt away. She buried her face in the palms of her hand, babbling unintelligible sentences to herself.
"Are you... okay?" Yuehwa asked, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder.
The latter slowly raised her head, revealing the watery trace of tears that had filled her eyes and were now streaming down her cheeks. She lifted a hand to Yuehwa's cheek, an apologetic smile appearing on her face. "I'm so sorry," she murmured. "So, so sorry."
"Sorry for what?"
Maybe engaging the girl had been a bad idea, because Yuehwa's instincts were now telling her to turn around and run away.
"It is your destiny. Decided millennia ago, when the gods first birthed these lands. Again and again, cycle after cycle, it will happen."
"What will happen?"
Yuehwa was tired of riddles. Would it hurt people to speak plainly instead of leaving vague statements that could be interpreted in a thousand ways?
Xin'ai didn't answer. Instead, she pointed a finger at the centre of Yuehwa's abdomen, a few notches above her waist. A single teardrop rolled off the corner of her right eye.
"There is no changing destiny, Your Majesty. Time has already proven such. I only wish there was another way."
The girl withdrew her hand and scrambled to her feet, bowing awkwardly before she ran away, disappearing into the darkened spaces between the army tents.
Your Majesty? That was new. Even as regent, she was still addressed as Your Highness by the Hwa court.
In any case, she had no answers, only more questions.
#
"I want to know what you meant."
The girl startled, tripping over the hem of her robes. Shoya grabbed her by the arm, keeping her upright.
"Your Highness!" Xin'ai exclaimed. She tried to drop to a curtsey, but found herself pinned rigidly in place by his vice-like grip. "I... I don't know what you're talking about."
"Everything you said to Yuehwa. What did you mean by it?"
He had wanted to speak to Yuehwa to discuss their plan for daybreak when he spotted her sitting by the fire with Xin'ai. Curious as to what Sheng Yun's young apprentice could possibly have to say, he had eavesdropped on the entire conversation from the shadows. It hadn't been much, but it was enough to unsettle him.
"I cannot say, Your Highness. We are not allowed to expose the secrets of the heavens," the girl replied shakily, her face pale with fear.
"Understand this, Xin'ai. The royal astrologers work for the royal family of Feng. I am the one who gets to decide what you can or cannot say, and I want you to tell me everything you know."
The girl bit down on her lip, and in her large eyes he could see the struggle going on inside her mind. Finally, she relented. Pointing up to three stars sparkling in the night sky, she said, "The Phoenix, the White Tiger and the Golden Dragon. Those three stars have been shifting constantly in recent months, and their brightness is at a peak. Time has almost come for their destinies to be fulfilled."
Sure enough, the trio shone so brilliantly that one could hardly notice any other stars in their vicinity.
"What destinies? Whose destinies?"
"You are not unfamiliar with the last known individuals to be born under two of these stars. Hwang Nanzhe, founding king of Feng—the White Tiger. His queen, Wan Jue—the Phoenix."
Shoya had a sinking feeling that he would not like what he was about to hear. It could not be a mere coincidence that the star Wan Jue was born under shared the same name as Yuehwa's assassin self.
"The appearance of these stars signals the coming of a great calamity, one that can only be quelled by sacrifice."
A life for a life, a soul for a soul.
The cryptic message left by the monks of Horanjit described something similar.
"What sacrifice? Do you know what's going to happen?" he demanded, shaking the girl by the shoulders.
Xin'ai shuddered. Her eyes suddenly rolled upwards, leaving only the whites, like the grotesque underbellies of dead fish. She placed her hands around his head, and a sharp pain abruptly exploded in his mind.
He was on a mountainside, with a fierce battle raging on in the valley down below. The Jilin mountains, he thought. On the battlefield, there were flames and destruction, dead bodies lying in rivulets of blood.
Two figures stood out, one male, one female, both wielding swords in their hands as they continued fighting against the enemy onslaught that they were facing.
Hwang Nanzhe and Wan Jue.
One by one their compatriots were struck down. They were surrounded. Defeat—and death—was imminent.
From his vantage point, he could see another man perched upon a black chariot. It was hunched and shriveled, a cloak of charred feathers hanging upon its shoulders. He said "it", because it resembled a creature more than a man. Its skin was purplish-grey, with long hairs hanging like damp seaweed from its balding head, and it held a long, wooden staff in one boney hand.
No matter how many Wudi soldiers Hwang Nanzhe and his men cut down, it was useless, because they would simply clamber off the ground and continue fighting, as if they felt no pain. As if they could not die.
"We have to get to him," Hwang Nanzhe shouted, pointing his sword in the direction of the mastermind.
"Cover me."
"Wait, what are you doing?"
Wan Jue began to cut her way through the hordes that lay between them and the dark magician, resolve etched in her eyes and in each swing of her sword. Around her, what remained of their bandit army tried their best to do as their queen ordered, clearing a path for her towards the black chariot.
"Jue-er, stop this. Come back here!" Hwang Nanzhe hollered. He tried to chase after her, but with each step he took there would be zombie soldiers throwing themselves in his way, slowing him down. Despair was written all over his face as he watched his wife move further and further from him.
"This ends now, you hellspawn!" Using the shoulders of their enemies as stepping stones, Wan Jue leapt into the air, pointing her blade at the hunched being.
The magician threw its head back and laughed, a screeching laugh that sounded like fingernails scrapping against metal.
"You think you can stop us?" it said. Lifting its staff high above its head, it muttered an incantation under its breath. At that moment, Shoya thought he saw one end of the wooden staff move. It was carved in the image of a cobra's head, he realised, and the head was moving.
The staff is its source of power...
Wan Jue screamed. Instead of mounting the chariot as she had intended, her body was buffeted by an invisible force and went flying backwards, crashing to the ground. Still, she refused to give up. She hauled herself back to her feet and wiped away the trail of blood trickling from the corner of her lips.
The creature's thin lips curled in amusement.
It swung its staff again, and Wan Jue hurtled forwards, her jaw colliding heavily with the dirt
"Jue-er, come back!" Hwang Nanzhe was still shouting, pleading for her to turn around.
She picked herself up, dragging her broken body towards the chariot still. This time, no one stood in the way. The dark magician was intentionally letting her approach, mocking her for her feeble attempt. He was telling her that she would never succeed, even if he let her try.
Then, she paused. Lifting her bloodied face, she stared at the creature head-on, her gaze unrelenting. Unafraid.
"If you surrender, I can grant you a complete corpse."
"Never," she spat.
Mustering all the strength from within her, Wan Jue flung herself towards the chariot. Just as the dark magician was about to send another spell her way, one that would likely claim her life, she swung her body to the right, narrowly avoiding its curse. Reaching out, she grabbed hold of the wooden staff, yanking it out of the magician's hand with a determined roar.
She tumbled to the ground, staff in hand.
"You foolish woman. Do you think that taking that will change anything?" the dark magician shrieked, his frail body shaking with rage. "You can never destroy the Staff of Night!"
"Never?"
"Jue-er, don't do it!"
Wan Jue turned to look at her husband, and a sad smile stretched across her lips. There was a finality in that smile that told Shoya all he needed to know about what was to happen.
"I have to," he saw her lips whisper.
The queen steeled her aching heart and lifted the staff into the air, then she brought its sharpened tip down in one decisive motion—straight towards her.
"No!" Hwang Nanzhe cried. He watched in horror as the stake pierced through his beloved, emerging from her back dripping with blood.
"No!" the dark magician screeched.
Whatever Wan Jue had done, it had worked, because in the next moment all the undead soldiers collapsed lifelessly to the ground, as they should have been. The surviving Wudi soldiers seemed to wake from their trance, dropping their weapons in confusion.
As for the dark magician, he began to shrivel like a prune, his already-ashen skin sagging from his skeletal frame. His hair slowly turned from black to grey, grey to white, until every strand disintegrated altogether. The decay started from his fingers and toes, then extended like a poisonous web up his limbs, until finally there was nothing left but the dessicated husk of a monster that once was.
Peace and quiet flowed through the valley.
Wan Jue stood unwavering, her long strands of her hair blowing gently with the mountain winds. Then, she fell to her knees, surrounded by a growing pool of her own blood. With a final smile, her head lowered and her lids slowly fluttered shut, she leaned against the Staff of Night, as if she had merely entered a deep sleep.
Hwang Nanzhe stumbled over to his wife's body, carefully picking her up and cradling her in his arms. His sobs rang out across the valley, and the mountains echoed his pain.
They had won. Yet they had lost.
Shoya remained in a trance for a long time, even after the visions from the past cleared and his consciousness was firmly returned to the present. His fingers clutched at his chest, trying to numb the pain in his heart. Hwang Nanzhe's pain.
He knew now what the cryptic message left by the monks of Horanjit meant.
A life for a life. A soul for a soul.
Wan Jue had willingly offered her life in exchange for destroying the dark magic that was held within the Staff of Night, and her blood had cleansed it of its evil, sending those demons back where they belonged.
"Thank you," he croaked.
"What use is there to knowing that which you cannot change?" Xin'ai whispered, her large, curious eyes searching his face for an answer.
"There is nothing in this world that cannot be changed, Xin'ai. Nothing."
He would not let history repeat itself, even if he had to give up his own life in exchange.