Hades Came Knocking Once More

A handful of soldiers had sprung out of the trees, scattering on all sides. The sound of metal rang as Shufeng and Jian parred attacks in every direction.

As they fought, survival seemed bleak. In truth, it was a miracle they had both survived this far! They knew that, no matter the elite swordsmen they were, death was almost inevitable—they were outnumbered and their stamina was depleting.

Jian cried out to Shufeng, all the while blocking off two attackers, "Look out!"

With a bone-chilling roar, one of the soldier was pushing and shoving his men out of the way, rushing towards Shufeng.

"The bastard prince is mine!!!"

Shufeng's dark glossy eyes collided with the vengeful pair of eyes bursting with bloodlust.

The soldier lunged forward and his double-edged sword rained down to one side then the other, the force of each impact keeping Shufeng off balance and slowly tearing the wound on his shoulder.

The prince had used up most of his energy to remain conscious and fight. His arm had started to feel numb a while ago and his hands were now shaking.

And since his left lung had been stabbed, and partially roasted by lightening, each breath was gruelling and excruciating.

But even so, the savage strength of the soldier was still no match for Shufeng's fluid skill and expert stance.

As Shufeng leaped back barely in time to evade another blow, he violently coughed out blood. Strings of red droplets were also dripping from his shoulder, along his arm. The blood soaking his hand and the hilt of his sword, made his grip slippery and loose.

A sadistic glint appeared in the soldier's eyes and he howled with diabolical laughter, and while laughing, the attacker repeated the movement, the sword arcing above his head and swinging down towards the prince's neck—each time missing his target intentionally, taunting him.

The soldier became acutely aware of the prince's ill health and his lack of strength to counterattack with killing intent. For that matter, he had noticed that the prince had resorted to delaying tactics—using his dexterity of movements merely to evade his attacks and never taking the offensive.

Delaying tactics for his inevitable death! So he believed.

In fact, pupils contracted and refocused, Shufeng was studying his enemy's fight patterns and sword techniques. He had to manage the expenditure of his energy because he would only have one chance to kill and he shouldn't miss it.

The soldier was brimming with overconfidence, like a cat playing with an exhausting mouse and revelling in its suffering before the fatal blow. In his pleasure at his success, he kept on cutting and thrusting at the prince relentlessly, never letting him gain his balance.

Then, it was time for the quick resolution of the avenging of the death of General Yun Hishoku, time to deliver the coup de grâce.

He took a big step forward arcing once more his sword above his own head… But he didn't expect, right in that instant, before his sword swung down at high velocity, that Shufeng had spotted an opening and with mere milliseconds to act he had sprung towards him and impaled his stomach.

The soldier snarled, caught off-guard by the unnatural speed the attack had been delivered.

Also, it was one deadly cut using anatomical precision over strength.

There was a squelching sound, blood instantly splattered on the spot, and the man crumpled to the ground.

Shufeng had drained most of his vital essence, and he felt an unpleasant sensation of heaviness and tingling in his limbs. His feet refused to move anymore. His head started to spin. The edges of his vision began to blur and blackened.

A misty out-of-focus silhouette flung at him, knocked his blade from his hand, and sent him staggering backward.

Before he could comprehend what happened, a cascade of pain rippled across his body as the enemy's blade gashed the upper part of his thigh.

The prince collapsed and the ferns were quickly taking on a red tint.

Jian's face twisted in horror and he let out a wail.

Shufeng watched as the executioner towered above him. The sharp-edged blade at his hand glinting in the sunlight, thirsty for blood.

The soldier who was brother-in-arms with General Yun Hishoku howled: "My Lord, today, this hour, I, Masumi Feng, your loyal servant, will finally avenge your death!" He clenched his jaw, the veins on his forehead prominent.

Shufeng's heart quickened.

Since that ill-fated night Hades had lingered around ready to ambush him once more.

He feared that tomorrow the sun wouldn't rise to the east.

And in that moment, he let his eyes gaze beyond his executioner, upwards in the soft and bright sky hugging mountains, valleys, and the Chunyan River.

The white clouds streaked with silvers and golds swirled around each other like fishes swimming in a river of blue.

He smiled, melancholic. On fine days such as this, he and Emika would be fishing at the Chunyan River. Love infused his soul as he recalled the amusing but macabre words the young woman had once said:

"When the last day of my life has been counted, I wish to die in spring and buried here, beneath our cherry blossom."

"But the worms and maggots will eat your pretty face." He had teased her.

"Well, you can use those worms to fish. I will bring you luck!" She had replied with a look that was just the right softness. "And what about you, my dear Prince?"

"I wish my body to be cremated, and my ashes to join this brimming river you love so much, and flow freely in it among the silvery fishes."

"You will be fish food! Then how could I ever catch fish again and eat it?" She had thrown her half eaten rice dumpling into the river.

When he had seen how upset she had been at the thought of him becoming fish food, he had felt a slight shock in his heart, a pleasant tingle. Then, slowly he had drawn his face closer to hers, his lips desiring to touch her soft cheek.

On the other hand, her mind had been preoccupied with other thoughts, and she had suddenly turned her head towards him, her forehead bumping against his tall bridge nose. Without thinking much, she had briskly rubbed his nose. Although his nose had become sore by her roughness, he had let her continue for she had been expressing caring feelings for him.

"How selfish! How could you deprive me of the tastiest fishes of the land?" she had pursued, "Where could I ever find a better fishing spot than this one?" Her fingertips grazing his hand, she had pouted her lips: "Sprinkle your royal ashes somewhere else, huh?"

…My life comes now to this sad end: I will not sail freely the clear waters of the Chunyan River and into the bosom of the sea. Instead like a rotten log devoured by vermin and covered in moss my corpse will be.

Still, this memory made him chuckled inwardly. Emika was truly greedy when it came to food!

Shufeng made brief eye contact with his executioner who smirked in triumph, and at the same time being utterly dumbfounded upon seeing the smile lingering on the dead man's lips.

Shufeng was ready to meet Hades.

His last image of the living world was of the shimmering blue wings of a dragonfly hovering the glistening blade of doom arcing out over his head.

Then he squeezed his eyes shut; and even if she had betrayed him, while awaiting for Hades to close the doors, as he clung onto his last vestiges of his memories, his final image to take in the netherworld was her begonia lips smiling.

Jian was desperately trying to keep the two soldiers left alive at bay while rushing back to the prince's side, when the arcing stroke of a blade sliced the fabric of his clothing at the midsection. It missed the flesh behind it by perhaps a couple of centimetres. But next, he saw his sword flashed out of his hand.

From deep in the woods he could hear the hurried footsteps of a dozen more soldiers.

If today was their last day, it would be devastating to die before they had reached their goal of vengeance.