A week had passed since General Cao's final stand, and the kingdom of Linhua had begun to rise from the ashes. The sacrifice of General Cao and his men had bought the kingdom precious time. The plague, though still a lingering shadow, was no longer the kingdom's greatest threat. Linhua's forces, though weakened, were rallying.
In the war room of Linhua's capital, the generals and ministers gathered to discuss their next move. The tension in the air was palpable, but the mood was slightly less dire now, as Linhua had begun to heal.
General Wu, still visibly worn from his own experiences, addressed the room. "We must send reinforcements to General Cao. His forces are dwindling, but we can still save them. If we don't act quickly, all his sacrifice will be in vain."
The elder advisor, Elder Fang, nodded gravely. "The kingdom has been given a chance to recover, but we owe it to General Cao and his men to give them the aid they need. The situation is dire, but we must not falter now."
Zhang Wei, standing beside Pan Qiang, spoke up. His voice was calm, but the weight of his words carried through the room. "I will go with you. I can heal the wounded. The time spent defending has been hard on them, and many are in critical condition. We must ensure their survival."
Elder Fang added, his grip on his cane tight as his age seemed to weigh on him, "I will fight with you as well. I may not be as strong as I once was, but my sword can still cut deep."
Pan Qiang nodded, his expression unwavering. "I am Zhang Wei's assistant, and I will be by his side, offering whatever support is needed."
The generals exchanged glances before General Wu made his decision. "We will move at first light. The kingdom has been rising, but it still needs its heart, the men that have fought and bled. We will send every soldier we can spare to assist General Cao. We owe him that much."
Back in the battle zone, General Cao's remaining men numbered no more than seventy. They were all wounded, their faces drawn and pale from hunger, exhaustion, and the brutal combat they had endured for days. The camp was silent, the soldiers barely able to keep their eyes open.
Among them, General Cao's second-in-command, Lieutenant Shen, paced nervously. "How long can we hold on? We've already lost so many," he muttered to his comrades.
Suddenly, a messenger bird swooped down and landed in the camp, its wings fluttering against the heavy air. The soldiers gathered around as the messenger unrolled the parchment tied to the bird's leg. General Cao approached, his tired but resolute eyes scanning the message.
"It's from Linhua," Cao murmured. "Reinforcements are coming. They say... we just need to hold for two more days."
The news sparked a flicker of hope in the eyes of the weary soldiers. For some, it was enough to reignite their will to live. They stood straighter, their backs less hunched under the weight of fatigue. For the first time in days, there was a sense of renewed purpose.
But that hope was short-lived. As the men began to gather their strength, the sound of drums echoed through the camp, an unmistakable signal that the enemy was closing in. General Cao's sharp eyes scanned the distance.
"They've found us," Cao whispered. "Prepare yourselves."
Before anyone could react, the sky darkened with arrows. The first wave struck with deadly precision, cutting down twenty of Cao's soldiers in an instant, while the rest scrambled for cover, many of them wounded from previous battles.
"Follow me!" General Cao's voice rang out. He grabbed his sword and charged, his men following in a desperate attempt to break through the encirclement.
They moved swiftly, Cao's sword flashing like a streak of lightning, cutting through enemy soldiers as his battalion pushed forward. "We must break their lines!" he shouted, his voice hoarse from the effort.
Amidst the chaos, Lieutenant Shen, his face bloodied, turned to Cao. "General, we can't do this. We're outnumbered, and our forces are too weak!"
Cao met his gaze with fierce determination. "We fight because we must. For Linhua. For our people."
The fight was brutal. The soldiers of General Cao's battalion fought like men possessed, pushing through the enemy lines with relentless tenacity. But it was clear that they could not hold out forever.
Just as the enemy began to regroup and tighten their hold, two soldiers, Private Liu and Sergeant Gao, stepped forward. "General," Liu said, his voice trembling but resolute, "Go! We'll hold them off for as long as we can."
Sergeant Gao nodded, his grip on his weapon firm. "Go. The kingdom must live."
Tears welled in Cao's eyes as he looked at the two men who had chosen to stay behind, knowing it would be their last act of service. But there was no time to mourn. With a final nod to the two soldiers, Cao led the remaining men toward the exit of the encirclement.
As they broke through the enemy lines, they heard the final cries of Liu and Gao as they made their stand, holding back the enemy long enough for the others to escape.
Later, as the surviving soldiers gathered at the edge of the battlefield, their faces covered in dirt and blood, General Cao stood with his head bowed for a moment. He looked out at the distant horizon, knowing that his men had given their all.
But amidst the destruction, there was still hope. The reinforcements were on the way. And for the first time in days, General Cao allowed himself a small, weary smile.
"We may have lost many," he said, his voice low but steady. "But we live to fight another day."
General Xu and General Nie had met in a secluded area to discuss their next move, their faces set in grim determination. Despite the brutal losses they had suffered, they knew that every moment counted, and they had to make their next move count.
"They cannot keep running forever," General Xu said, his eyes scanning the terrain. "If we lead them into the mountains, the narrow passes will give us an advantage. We can trap them there."
The soldiers of Linhua moved with grim purpose, their feet dragging but still in motion. They knew they were being chased, but the enemy never seemed to strike, only following, pushing them forward, forcing them to keep moving.
Day after day, the battle-hardened soldiers felt the strain of their march. The air grew heavier, the days longer, and their bodies more worn. But the generals never stopped, their orders precise and unwavering.
"Keep moving! Don't stop for rest!" General Xu would bark as he rode along the line of soldiers. His voice was hoarse, but his resolve unyielding.
The enemy followed, never engaging directly, but their presence was suffocating. They made sure the soldiers couldn't rest, always keeping them moving, pushing them further toward the narrow mountain passes.
By the time two days had passed, the soldiers were completely drained. Many were limping, their wounds reopening from the constant motion, their muscles aching with exhaustion. But despite everything, General Xu remained vigilant, his eyes always scanning the horizon, ever watchful for an opportunity to turn the tide.
"We're close," General Xu muttered to himself as he looked to the distant mountain range. "Once we hit those narrow passes, it's over for them."
The narrow mountain path twisted like a snake, winding through jagged cliffs and dense forests. General Cao and his remaining soldiers had been on the run for days, pursued relentlessly by the forces of Hei'an. With their numbers decimated and their strength almost gone, they had been forced to keep moving, hoping for an opportunity to break free or regroup.
But there was no escape. The enemy had been playing a cruel game, never attacking, only pushing them further and further into the mountains. They had no time to rest, no time to regroup. Every step they took, they were being herded like cattle, the enemy's strategy clear: drive them into a trap, where there would be no way out.
General Cao's eyes were sharp, despite the exhaustion that weighed on his shoulders. His troops, barely more than a shadow of their former selves, were still holding strong, though their resolve was beginning to waver. He could hear the ragged breaths of his men as they marched in silence behind him. Many had wounds that hadn't healed, some were injured beyond repair, and others carried the weight of exhaustion like a heavy burden. But still, they followed him, their loyalty unshaken.
"General, we can't keep this up much longer," one of his lieutenants, a weary man with a deep gash across his cheek, said, his voice trembling from fatigue. "We've been running for days. The enemy's not attacking, they're just driving us deeper into the mountains. They're trying to trap us."
Cao glanced back at his lieutenant, his face set in a grim expression. "I know. But we've got to keep moving. We need to find a way to turn this around."
The general's gaze turned forward again, scanning the path ahead. His mind raced, calculating his next move. He knew the mountains like the back of his hand, and he knew that if he could just get his men to the right spot, they could turn the tide. But the enemy was closing in, their forces never slowing, always pursuing.
Meanwhile, General Wu and the reinforcements had arrived on the scene. Zhang Wei, Elder Fang, and Pan Qiang were among them, bringing with them much-needed supplies, and most importantly, Zhang Wei's healing abilities.
As they moved through the ranks of exhausted soldiers, a figure caught Zhang Wei's eye, an injured man, lying half-conscious near the edge of the camp. He was clutching a sword, but his bloodied body was barely able to hold it. Zhang Wei rushed over, his heart sinking as he knelt by the soldier's side.
"Is he...?" Pan Qiang started, but Zhang Wei raised his hand, silencing him.
Zhang Wei took the soldier's wrist, checking his pulse. The soldier's pulse was weak, barely detectable. He looked up at General Wu, who had approached with concern written on his face.
"It's impossible," Zhang Wei said, his voice low. "He's lost too much blood. His willpower is the only thing keeping him alive."
The soldier's eyes fluttered open, and he whispered faintly, "General... Cao... he's still fighting... don't let him... die..." He gasped, trying to sit up, but his body was too weak.
General Wu bent down, his face full of sorrow. "We'll save him. Just hold on."
Zhang Wei moved quickly, trying his best to stem the bleeding, but it was clear that the soldier's injuries were beyond his reach. The soldier, with great effort, reached up and gripped General Wu's hand, his voice trembling.
"Please... General Wu... save General Cao... We... we're pursuing him to the mountains. The enemy's closing in... please..."
Tears filled General Wu's eyes as he held the soldier's hand. "We'll get to him. Just hold on, soldier."
But as the soldier breathed his last, his body going limp in Zhang Wei's hands, the group fell silent. They buried him quickly, marking his grave with a simple stone. No words were exchanged, no one needed to speak. The weight of their loss hung heavy in the air.
With the soldier laid to rest, General Wu, his face grim but resolute, turned to the group. "We ride out now. We must reach General Cao. The enemy will be close, and we don't have much time."
Zhang Wei, despite his sorrow, nodded. "We'll do what we can. But we must hurry."
The reinforcements rode hard, their hearts heavy with the loss of the soldier and the knowledge that they were nearing their final destination. General Wu's mind was focused on one thing: reaching General Cao before it was too late.
As they rode, the mountain passes loomed ahead, the narrow cliffs seeming to close in on them. They could see the dark shapes of enemy soldiers in the distance, their numbers growing with each passing moment. The air was thick with tension. But General Wu refused to let it break him.
"We're almost there," General Wu said, his voice unwavering. "Hold the line. Hold it until General Cao can see his reinforcements."
The mountain pass was narrow, the walls of stone rising on either side like jagged teeth, trapping Cao Jinggou and his remaining soldiers in a final, brutal snare. They were hemmed in from all sides, nowhere to run, nowhere to retreat. Only forward, into the jaws of death.
General Cao stood tall amidst his men, sword stained, armor cracked and smeared with blood, his own and his enemies'. Around him, his soldiers tightened their formation, barely forty men remaining, most wounded, all exhausted. But they still stood. Still ready.
And then the enemy came.
From both ends of the pass, Hei'an soldiers surged in. Their war cries echoed off the cliffs as they closed in like wolves.
"Form up!" Cao bellowed, voice ringing out above the chaos. "We sell our lives dearly, brothers!"
His men roared, the last echo of Linhua's defiance, and then the clash of steel began.
Every swing, every block, every strike came with blood and pain. For every Linhua soldier that fell, another Hei'an soldier was dragged down with him. They fought not just to survive, but to make their deaths mean something. To buy even one more second for their homeland.
In the middle of the fray, Cao's sword flashed like lightning. He was everywhere at once, cutting down enemy after enemy, shielding fallen comrades, yelling orders through grit and blood.
And then came the unmistakable arrival of two figures, one armored in black, the other in blood-red. Generals Nie Yun and Xu, the twin fangs of Hei'an.
Cao turned to face them as his soldiers closed ranks around him.
"So," Cao spat blood from his mouth, eyes blazing. "They send the attack dogs at last."
Nie Yun smiled coldly, drawing his curved sword. "You're a stubborn one, Cao Jinggou. I'll give you that."
Xu chuckled, flexing his fingers. "Shame you're already broken. You'll die here, like your men. And Linhua with you."
Cao's smile didn't reach his eyes. "The sons of Linhua don't die quietly."
He charged.
The three generals collided in a furious dance of steel and fury. Cao parried Nie Yun's blade, then spun to block Xu's axe. The clang of metal rang like thunder. Cao's movements were precise, brilliant even in his weariness. But his body was failing him.
All around them, the battle raged. Linhua's soldiers fought with desperation, even as they were cut down one by one, trading their lives for a single enemy. Still, they fought.
Then, trumpets.
From the far end of the canyon came a roar, General Wu's reinforcements, finally breaking through the enemy lines. Zhang Wei rode in on horseback with the medics and assistants, carrying water, herbs, and healing tools.
"Push through!" General Wu shouted, cutting down a soldier as he charged forward. "Cao still stands!"
The reinforcements clashed with the tide of Hei'an forces, but they were still outnumbered. For every step they took forward, they were pushed two steps back.
Meanwhile, Zhang Wei leapt off his horse and ran to the wounded.
"Water, here!" he cried. "You , apply pressure to that wound! Stay awake, soldier, stay awake!"
He moved between the fallen with frantic hands, pouring water into cracked lips, binding gashes, and trying to bring some back from the brink. But some simply looked at him with glassy eyes and shook their heads.
"Let me die here," one whispered. "I'd rather fall where my brothers did..."
Zhang Wei clenched his jaw, trying to keep his voice steady. "You're not dying here. Not today. If General Cao still fights, then you damn well keep breathing."
Back in the heart of the battle, Cao's strength began to falter. He parried a blow from Nie Yun, only to take a slash across his ribs from Xu. He staggered, blood soaking through his armor. Then Nie Yun's sword came down hard, biting into his shoulder, forcing him to one knee.
"G-General!" one of his soldiers shouted.
But Cao looked up, fierce and unbroken, meeting Nie Yun's eyes with fire. "Still breathing," he growled. "You'll need more than that."
Xu snarled and lunged at him with both hands on his axe. Cao roared, using the last of his strength to rise and pivot. His blade sang through the air—
—and sliced clean through General Xu's arm.
Xu screamed, falling back as blood sprayed, his weapon clattering to the ground.
Nie Yun's eyes widened. "You bastard-"
Cao turned to him, panting heavily. His sword wavered in his hand, but his stance was proud. "You brought your army to break Linhua," he said, his voice raw. "But it's your own spirit that's shattered."
Nie Yun raised his sword. "Then die with your pride."
Cao raised his own blade, blood dripping from his chin as he whispered to himself, almost smiling
"The sons of Linhua... won't die today."
The clash of steel faded. The dust began to settle.
Hei'an's war horns shrieked, sharp and bitter, as their forces began to fall back. Their formations broke under the relentless pressure of Linhua's reinforcements. With their generals wounded or retreating, the tide had turned. Bodies littered the stone pass, friend and foe alike.
The price of victory was written in blood.
Only twenty soldiers of the Sky Battalion still drew breath. Most were wounded, barely conscious. Some clung to life by a thread. They sat slumped against the rocks or lay flat, coughing blood, staring blankly at the sky that had once watched them train, march, and now... die.
Zhang Wei ran forward, stumbling past the broken stones, his breath caught in his chest. Behind him, General Wu and the others followed silently, their eyes wide, searching, hoping.
Then they saw him.
At the heart of the battlefield, surrounded by fallen enemies, stood General Cao.
His body swayed, blood streaming down from a gash across his ribs, dripping from his lips. His hand still gripped the hilt of his sword, the blade buried in the cracked stone beneath him to keep himself upright.
He wasn't moving.
But he was smiling.
That quiet, tired smile, the kind worn by a man who gave everything and knew it had been enough.
"The sons of Linhua..." Zhang Wei whispered, his throat tightening.
"...won't die today," General Wu finished, barely choking the words out.
Zhang Wei dropped to his knees beside Cao. He reached out, gently touching the general's shoulder.
"General Cao..." His voice cracked. "Can you hear me? We're here. You did it. You held the line..."
Cao's lips parted, barely audible. "Wu... Zhang Wei..."
Zhang Wei leaned in. "Yes, yes! We're here, General. The men are safe. You saved them."
Cao's eyelids fluttered weakly. His voice was low, breath shallow. "Sky Battalion... did not yield... good men... brave souls..."
He coughed, more blood trailing down his chin, but still, still, that soft smile didn't fade.
General Wu knelt beside him, tears spilling freely down his cheeks. "You stubborn bastard... You always said you'd outlast us all."
Cao's eyes flickered toward him. "And yet... here I am..."
He gave a weak chuckle, then winced, his breath hitching.
Zhang Wei couldn't stop the tears. "You stood when no one else could. You fought until the end... like a true son of Linhua."
The surviving soldiers, what few remained, stood shakily, even those who could barely walk. Bloodied, broken, burned, but alive. They gathered near their fallen general, some collapsing to their knees, others saluting with trembling hands.
One of them whispered, voice hoarse, "He never fell. Not once..."
General Wu bowed his head low, tears dropping onto the stone.
"For Linhua," he said.
Zhang Wei followed, voice shaking, "For the Sky Battalion."
And then one by one they all saluted.
Tears rolled freely down their dirt-covered faces. These were not hardened warriors now. Not commanders or soldiers. Just sons of Linhua, mourning their father on the field he protected with his life.
Zhang Wei's hands trembled as he gently closed Cao's eyes, whispering:
"Rest now, General. Linhua lives… because of you."
The mountain pass was silent, save for the wind carrying the soft sound of crying. No fanfare, no grand speeches. Only grief and love for a man who never gave up.
And above them, the flag of Linhua still flew.