The moon hung high, casting its cold light upon the desolate courtyard of the abandoned temple. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and lingering incense, an eerie contrast to the blood that would soon be spilled. Liang Hua's breath was steady, her fingers tightening around the hilt of her sword as she met the Wildcat's gaze.
"Are you certain?" she asked in a hushed voice.
The Wildcat grinned, her face half-hidden beneath the shadows of her hood. "The Empress never plays fair. And neither should we."
The words had barely left her lips when a sudden gust of wind swept through the temple grounds, carrying with it the faint rustle of movement. Then—dark figures emerged from the shadows, moving with practiced lethality. Assassins. Their blades gleamed in the moonlight, their purpose clear.
Liang Hua exhaled sharply. "So, she finally makes her move."
Without another word, the first assassin lunged.
Liang Hua met him head-on, her blade slicing through the air with precision. The clash of steel rang through the temple grounds, an ominous symphony of death. She twisted, parrying another strike before driving her dagger into the exposed ribs of her attacker. A strangled gasp, then silence.
The Wildcat was a blur of motion beside her, striking with an almost feral intensity. A dagger found its mark in the throat of an enemy, another assassin crumpling before they could even scream. But the assassins came in waves, relentless, their formation tightening around them.
Then, the provocation came.
A familiar voice rang out from the darkness, smooth yet laced with venom. "I expected better, Lady Liang."
Liang Hua turned sharply. From the shadows emerged a figure clad in elegant robes of deep crimson and black—a man she recognized all too well. General Huo, a pawn of the Empress, and a man who had long held a veiled disdain for the Liang family.
"You hold your sword like a soldier," he mused, "but do you fight like one?"
With a flick of his wrist, another wave of assassins surged forward. Liang Hua's teeth clenched as she dodged a sweeping attack, retaliating with a vicious slash across her enemy's chest. Blood sprayed onto the cold stone floor.
The Wildcat let out a growl of frustration. "These rats just keep coming."
General Huo smirked. "Indeed. And this time, there is no escape."
But then—the air shifted. A powerful presence swept through the battlefield like an oncoming storm. The clang of steel paused as the assassins hesitated, sensing the change.
Zhao Min had arrived.
From the temple's entrance, Zhao Min strode forward, his cloak billowing in the wind. His gaze locked onto Liang Hua's, his expression unreadable, but his blade spoke volumes.
"You've overstayed your welcome, General," Zhao Min's voice was calm, yet laced with an undeniable authority.
General Huo's smirk faltered, but he quickly masked it with arrogance. "Prince Zhao, I had not expected you to involve yourself in such… unsavory matters."
Zhao Min didn't dignify him with a response. In a blur of movement, he struck—his sword finding its mark in the shoulder of the nearest assassin. The man screamed, collapsing instantly. The battle reignited, but this time, the assassins found themselves overwhelmed.
Zhao Min's presence turned the tide. His blade carved a path through the enemy, forcing them onto the defensive. Liang Hua fought beside him, her movements seamlessly in sync with his. Meanwhile, the Wildcat moved like a specter of death, her strikes precise and ruthless.
Blood pooled across the stone floor. The assassins, realizing their defeat, began to retreat.
General Huo scowled, stepping back into the shadows. "This is far from over." With that, he vanished, leaving only the corpses of his men behind.
The silence that followed was deafening. Liang Hua turned to Zhao Min, breathing heavily.
"You were late," she said, though her tone was lighter than expected.
Zhao Min sheathed his sword. "I prefer to arrive when it matters most."
The Wildcat chuckled darkly, wiping blood from her dagger. "Next time, bring reinforcements."
Liang Hua exhaled, her eyes narrowing. "The Empress made her move. Now, it's our turn."
Zhao Min nodded. The crimson gambit had begun—and the empire would soon tremble beneath its weight.