Winds howled across the battlefield as Jun Mo Xie's forces approached the Jade Forest. The trees stood tall and ancient, their leaves silvered with frost. It was here, within the forest's heart, that Yue Ling had fallen.
Scouts moved ahead, and within hours, they found a makeshift camp hidden beneath a hollow tree. Mei Yun emerged, her armor stained with blood, her eyes sunken from sleepless nights.
"She's alive," Mei Yun said before he could ask. "But barely."
Inside the tent, Yue Ling lay wrapped in silken bandages, a fever clinging to her body like a second skin. Her face was pale, her breathing shallow.
Jun Mo Xie knelt beside her, taking her hand.
"She saved us all," Mei Yun whispered. "She held the pass until the last moment. Then the shadows overwhelmed her."
Jun Mo Xie looked at Lan Xue. "Can we heal her?"
Lan Xue examined her, weaving threads of spirit light across Yue Ling's body.
"The wound isn't physical," she said grimly. "Her soul was fractured. Something on the other side reached through her."
Jun Mo Xie's hand tightened. "Then I'll go through and bring it back."
---
He sat beside her, holding the Ember between his palms. Its flame burned low but steady. As he closed his eyes, he reached inward—not to his chi, but to the thread that tied him to Yue Ling.
He found it: a flickering light, weak but unbroken.
Then he was pulled.
Through fire, mist, and memory.
He stood in a place not bound by time. A plain of glass under a violet sky. Shadows loomed, but so did echoes—whispers of lives never lived.
And there, in the distance, was Yue Ling.
She sat upon a bench of ice, her eyes vacant, her sword across her lap.
"Ling," he called.
She looked at him. "You shouldn't be here."
"You think I'd let you face this alone?"
She looked away. "It's not a battle I can win."
He stepped forward. "Then we lose together."
The shadows stirred.
A monstrous figure rose from the glass—a construct of broken faces, screaming mouths, and burning eyes.
**"She is marked,"** it said. **"She belongs to the Gate."**
Jun Mo Xie drew the Ember. Its flame roared to life.
"She belongs to herself."
The battle was strange, surreal. He fought not with blade alone, but memory—calling upon shared moments, laughter, pain, hope. Each swing shattered illusions. Each memory pushed the beast back.
Yue Ling stood at last.
Together, they struck the shadow.
And the plain shattered.
---
He awoke with a gasp.
Yue Ling coughed beside him, her fever broken, her eyes filled with tears.
"You came for me."
"Always."
They embraced as the camp rejoiced.
---
By dawn, the army gathered once more. Mei Yun, Fei Yan, Yue Ling, and Lan Xue stood with Jun Mo Xie before a map of the Gate's location.
A mountain of obsidian, veined with light. Above it floated the Gate: a swirling vortex of red and black, pulsing with unnatural energy.
"The ritual is nearly complete," Mei Yun said. "We have three days, maybe less."
"We can't storm it from the front," Fei Yan added. "Too many fortifications. We'll be crushed."
"Then we flank," Jun Mo Xie said. "We draw their forces to the valley while a small team enters from the cliffside."
"A suicide mission," Yue Ling said, though her tone was calm.
"I'll lead it."
"Of course you will."
They smiled.
---
The next morning, the army moved.
From the hills, the Gate towered like a god's eye, watching, judging.
Jun Mo Xie's group of ten began the ascent along the jagged cliff path, led by old maps and Mei Yun's memory. They scaled sheer rock, crossed narrow ledges, and evaded patrols with breathless precision.
At one point, Fei Yan nearly fell, but Jun caught her. She grinned. "Still got it."
By nightfall, they reached the plateau—a narrow shelf above the Gate, just as described. From here, they could see everything: the enemy camps, the crimson storm swirling above, and at the center—the Crimson General.
He stood on an altar of bones, arms raised, chanting in a forgotten tongue. Behind him, chained in sigils of pain, was a creature of fire and metal: the Gatekeeper.
Lan Xue gasped. "They're forcing the Gate open… with the Gatekeeper's blood."
Mei Yun's face hardened. "Then we stop the ritual. We free the Guardian."
Jun Mo Xie raised the Ember.
"For every soul lost. For every tear shed. This ends now."
They leapt into battle.
---
Fire met fire.
The Ember's light clashed against the ritual's darkness. Fei Yan moved like a whisper, severing the hands of mages before they cast. Yue Ling danced in the storm, her blade singing a song of vengeance.
Mei Yun unleashed wind and storm, breaking barriers and clearing paths. Lan Xue healed as fast as they fell, keeping the rhythm of battle alive.
Jun Mo Xie reached the altar. The Crimson General turned.
"Ah… so the little monarch comes to die."
Mo Xie's eyes burned. "I came to end your reign."
They clashed.
Sword met halberd. Light met darkness. Every strike shook the mountain.
The General laughed. "You wield fire, but you do not understand it!"
Jun Mo Xie responded not with words, but fury. The Ember surged.
He struck the sigils binding the Gatekeeper. The chains shattered. The beast roared—free.
The vortex above trembled.
The Crimson General howled. "You fools! You've doomed this world!"
"No," Jun Mo Xie said. "You already did. We're just cleaning up the mess."
The
Gate flickered.
The ritual collapsed.
The army below surged into the valley, roaring with battle cries.
The war had begun.
---
*To be continued...*