9 Wuxian's Death
Looking up into the sky, Wuxian couldn't help but frown.
The rain had begun to settle, the sun peeking through the clouds, but the aftermath had already made the concealed Liang troops uncomfortable.
Wuxian shifted about, lifting different parts of his body slightly off the ground, one at a time, gently shaking out the accumulated rainwater.
But there were more worrying concerns at the moment.
'Judging from the position of the sun, it is already past the eighth hour. Why aren't they back yet?'
Ignoring his grumbling stomach, Wuxian turned over slightly and nudged himself forward. Using his arms as supports, he cautiously raised himself upwards to take a look at the area.
The road was empty. Looking at the trading post in the distance, there did not seem to be much activity either. It most certainly wasn't alert, nor was the garrison being deployed.
Wuxian touched his nose with his index finger, noting how freezing cold it was.
'I should meet up with the other two lieutenants to discuss our next move.'
He picked up a small stone, one of many that were lying near him, and tossed it across the gorge to Sun Tao's position.
The stone penetrated the brush and hit something metallic, giving off a clinking sound.
The response they had agreed upon was for the recipient of the stone to raise themselves into the other person's vision, so Wuxian waited.
But Sun Tao didn't respond.
'Perhaps he's fallen asleep.'
Wuxian took another stone and threw it into the same bush, waiting to see the result. He heard the tell-tale sound of stone on metal.
The face that greeted him wasn't Sun Tao's, but an emotionless metal visage instead.
Wuxian's eyes constricted.
'That metal mask… is from the state of Han!'
He heard the sound of a branch snapping behind him.
'Not good!'
Wuxian grabbed his spear and rolled onto his back. He was face to face with two Han soldiers, each wearing pale metal masks. However, unlike the usual Han soldier, they were lightly armoured, each wearing matching cloth uniforms.
It was no wonder how they were able to sneak up on him.
He immediately used the back end of his spear as leverage to push himself up, assuming a defensive stance.
The two Han soldiers, upon being discovered, charged forward. Both held longswords in their hands, executing an unorthodox two-handed grip.
Wuxian hesitated for a split second before deciding on a course of action.
In this position, it would be relatively easy to take care of a single adversary- especially with their suicidal charge, but their numbers were a big problem.
With the speed at which the Han soldiers pressed forward, if he stabbed at one, he'd impale them fully.
This would prevent him from manoeuvring the spear to defend himself against the other assailant.
In the best case scenario, he'd be disarmed. In the worst, he'd be pulled forward along with his spear into the range of the other attacker.
'I need to kill or disable one of them to even the odds.'
The other concern was Sun Tao. The man had undoubtedly been incapacitated or worse. The problem was whether the rest of their men had also been silently assassinated as well.
If they hadn't, Wuxian could shout to give them a heads up. The downside was that if he did, he'd expose his own position, potentially drawing more adversaries.
'Forget it.'
He took in a deep breath before letting out a roar. "Warriors of Liang! Enemy ambush! Draw your weapons and fight to the death!"
The incoming Han soldiers didn't react, continuing their assault.
Wuxian crouched down slightly, generating a burst of power with his lower body. He raised his spear back over his shoulder and then drove it forwards in a sweeping arc at head height.
The Han soldier didn't have time to dodge, instead adjusting his longsword to deflect the blow instead.
The spear bashed into the flat side of the sword. The residual force pushed through, the longsword smacking against the side of the Han soldier's bare neck, tipping him off balance but doing little damage.
The soldier responded fiercely. He released his grip on his sword, taking hold of Wuxian's spear with both hands and falling off to the side. Wuxian was forced to release his grip of the weapon to avoid being dragged down, moving to draw his backup sword instead.
He was too slow. The second Han soldier continued to rush forward, rapidly reaching attacking distance.
What was most unnerving was their silence. Soldiers of other states relied on battle cries and noise to create the courage to fight, but the highly trained Han elites were like automatons on the battlefield, unfeeling, unyielding.
Wuxian's lack of training with the sword and his stiffness from lying on the cold and wet ground proved fatal.
As the Han soldier's strike came down from over his shoulder, Wuxian put up a desperate resistance. He met the incoming blade with his own, attempting to use the follow-through of the strike to cut towards the Han soldier's neck.
Man proposes, heaven disposes. The moment their blades clashed, Wuxian's freezing cold hands gave way.
The sword fell out of his hand.
'Perhaps this is the advantage of a dual grip. Two hands against my one hand.' Wuxian mused, despite the dire situation.
There was barely any distance between the two. The Han soldier made a complementary upwards cleave, following up from his previous slash.
The blade sliced through several plates of Wuxian's lamellar armour but did not pierce flesh.
Then, the soldier's forward momentum carried him forward, shoulder barging Wuxian off the edge of the precipice.
In that moment, Wuxian's mind turned blank. He moved before thinking, grabbing the sleeve of the Han soldier's cloth uniform. As he fell backwards, the Han soldier fell with him as well.
Through the eye slits of the mask, Wuxian could see a pair of black pupils that were widened in shock.
Time seemed to freeze in mid air, the area silent and desolate. Only the sounds of rapid breathing, muffled by the mask of the Han soldier could be heard.
The next moment, they began to free fall.
Wuxian's grip shifted from the sleeve to the wrist and tightened, causing the Han soldier to release the sword.
At the same time, Wuxian grabbed the free spot on the hilt with his right hand in a reverse grip.
With the Han soldier's other hand still holding it, Wuxian took advantage of his superior strength to overpower him, driving it down into the Han soldier's exposed and unarmoured collarbone, pulling the soldier towards him with his other hand the same time.
There was a sickening crunch- the sound of internal organs and bones colliding.
The Han soldier's head jerked forward, bashing into Wuxian's lamellar chestplate. The straps holding the mask in place snapped off, revealing the soldier's face.
'He's… quite young.'
Wuxian's gaze turned to the blue sky. The clouds had cleared and the sun's rays had begun to shine downwards.
Despite falling through the air, Wuxian felt quite relaxed. The wind's breeze was like the caress of nature, guiding him into the afterlife.
Yet, though he felt somewhat relieved, tears began to line his eyes.
'Mian Ji…' His dry throat refused to produce any sound. Stubbornly, Wuxian tried again.
"Mian Ji… Xiao Chong!" He croaked.
The world turned black.
———
After an unknown amount of time, Wuxian's flickered open.
It was dark. He could barely see anything.
As his senses slowly returned to him, he registered a feeling of sticky dampness covering his arms. At the same time, he could feel a weight atop his body.
He subconsciously panicked, trembling as he shuffled backwards along the floor, flailing his arms.
The sound of liquid splatter accompanied his movement. Then, Wuxian heard a clunk and a soft impact against the back of his helmet.
'I… I'm alive?'
Memories began to return one by one. At first, it was a trickle of scenes but quickly turned into a rapidly flowing river of memories of who he was and what he was doing.
Wuxian looked downwards to see the Han soldier from before lying on top of him. He pushed him off before slowly getting to his knees.
His eyes began to adapt to the darkness. Above him was the roof of a cave, lined with countless stalactites that vanished into the distance.
Wuxian turned to look behind him. A dead end.
'My last memory was while I was falling… what could have happened between then and now that would lead to me being in this situation?'
His gaze wandered down to the lifeless corpse of the Han soldier that was responsible for his current predicament. The sudden realisation that he might be in a hostile environment washed over him.
Subconsciously, he reached back to draw his spear, only to realise that it had been taken from him by the other Han assassin. He had also lost his backup sword- it was probably still lying on top of the gorge.
He then looked at the blood-covered longsword that was still lodged into the Han assassin's torso.
'This'll have to do.'
Wuxian wrapped both hands around the hilt of the weapon, placing one foot on the other shoulder of the body and pulling hard.
There was a sickening visceral sound, but Wuxian stayed steadfast and vigilant. He tried to remember how the soldier had held the sword, emulating the stance and grip as best as he could.
Silently, he calculated various possibilities in his mind.
'Could I have been captured by the Han?' He shook his head. The only reason he could think of for being captured would be to interrogate him for the whereabouts of the main Liang force. Though he had never seen one, this place did not look anything like an interrogation chamber. Additionally, the Han would not have left him with the corpse of an impaled comrade draped over him.
Thinking back to how the body had been lying on top of him, it seemed as if they had just fallen through the floor into an underground cavern.
Looking upwards, Wuxian couldn't see the ceiling through the veil of darkness, but he could see the tips of stalactites above the place he had lain.
Furthermore, if he had indeed fallen through the floor, there ought to be some sort of debris accompanying him.
He probably should have been dead, or at the very least, mortally wounded. But he was in good condition. Physically, at least.
'And now that I think about it, what was a Han assassin squad doing at the gorge? How did they sneak up on us so easily?'
Wuxian pondered for a moment before clearing his head of unnecessary thoughts. The goal now was to ascertain his situation and escape.
Then, he took a deep breath, carefully making his way forward.
The layout of the cave was relatively linear. Soon enough, the surroundings began to change.
Symmetrical pillars lined the cave at regular intervals. As he scrutinised one of them closely, he noticed that they looked a lot like tribal totems. They had characters engraved on them, strangely similar yet uncomfortably unreadable.
As he paced forward, Wuxian began to notice the gradual widening of the hall. The totems were increasingly larger in size as well, each containing more and more esoteric characters.
They looked precious too, embedded with various resplendent minerals and gems. The engraved characters were lined with gold and seemed to pulsate with each of Wuxian's footsteps.
'This place is otherworldly.'
The passageway suddenly widened in size and scale. Wuxian felt like he had stepped through a magic barrier, a strange oppressive feeling washing over him as he passed by the final pair of totems.
The setting changed drastically. The cave floor was no longer dry and hard, instead becoming marble. The ceiling was no longer peppered with stalactites, but instead an enormous mosaic depicting various men wearing strange clothing, doing battle with demonic beings.
And in the centre of the chamber was an ornate spear. Its hilt was thrust into the ground, the tip pointing proudly into the air. Looking at it, Wuxian suddenly heard a voice in his mind.
"Ah, the Dark Edge of the North."
