The northern gate of Neu-Li City, a massive iron-bound wall of stone, stood silent and desolate, a stark contrast to the distant thunder of battle echoing from the main assault. At its foot, a tableau of cold purpose had been assembled. Naksh, his hands clasped behind his back, watched the gates with a predatory calm, while the hulking form of Jeet stood beside him, a silent, menacing shadow. To their right, Drystan, Khawn, and Bilguun, their armor a dark, foreign design that marked them as Magoli, stood with a chilling stillness, three hundred strong archers positioned in disciplined ranks behind them. Between them all, Long knelt on the cold ground, his hands bound tightly, his body bruised but his eyes still defiant, a lone island of resistance in a sea of overwhelming force. He was the key, the symbol, and the warning that the battle was already decided, and the fall of the city was not a matter of if, but of when.
Long looked up at the towering city wall, his gaze cutting through the chaos to find a small group of soldiers silhouetted against the morning sky. Among them, he saw Xao, his face a grim mask of weary defiance. A long, slow sigh escaped Long's lips, not of pain, but of a profound, soul-deep shame. He felt the immense weight of their gazes, the last, desperate hope for survival they had foolishly placed in him, their failed comrade. He was meant to be their lifeline, but his capture had not only sealed his own fate; it had extinguished the last flickering light of hope for every soul trapped behind those walls.
Staring at Long, his hands bound and kneeling before the city wall, a wave of raw anger rushed through Xao, cutting through the fear and despair. Seeing Long there alone, without the other civilians he was meant to lead, Xao came to a grim conclusion: whatever Hye had said was a lie, a cruel deception that had sent innocent civilians to their demise, leaving Long as a prisoner of war. But with that crushing realization came a single, desperate thought. Since they too had a prisoner of their own, he would use Hye to exchange for Long. With a newfound purpose in his eyes, he turned and ran straight back towards the prison.
Xao rushed down the dark corridor, his heart a frantic drum against his ribs. He burst into the last cell and found Dae already there, his face a mask of desperate hope as he listened to Hye. A wave of raw, unfiltered anger seized Xao. His voice, sharp and filled with a bitter rage, cut through the quiet of the jail. "Mayor Dae!" he shouted, his eyes blazing. "Do not believe a single word this liar said!"
Dae turned to face the oncoming Xao, his brow furrowed with confusion. "Captain—what do you mean?" he asked, his voice low.
Xao's reply was sharp and filled with a bitter anger. "The civilians we sent out were killed," he snapped, "and Captain Long is now kneeling before the city's northern gate."
The news crashed down on Dae like a bolt of lightning. His eyes widened in horrified disbelief, his throat went dry, and his lips trembled, the terrible truth dawning on him in an instant.
With a sharp zing from Xao's sword, he severed the chain locking the cell door. He rushed into the cell and grabbed the side of Hye's collar, yanking him out of the room.
"Captain, what are you doing?" Dae asked, his voice a mix of shock and confusion.
"I'm trading him for Long," Xao snarled, his voice filled with a cold rage. He continued to drag Hye from the corridor, ignoring Dae's protests. He pulled the man out into the open street and continued on, his eyes fixed on a single objective: the northern gate of Neu-Li City.
At the southern gate, the Magoli soldiers, their bodies a synchronized mass of force, began to work the battering ram. With each swing, the massive log smashed into the iron-bound gates of Neu-Li City with a thunderous BOOM, a sound that rattled the very foundations of the city. High above on the ramparts, the Ginmiao soldiers felt each hit not just with their ears, but with their entire bodies. An unsettling tremor ran up from the stone, a shuddering jolt that traveled through the soles of their boots and up their legs. With every bone-shaking impact, a grim certainty settled in their stomachs: the gates were not just being hit, they were being methodically and relentlessly broken down, and there was nothing they could do to stop it.
Chinua felt it in her bones: the end was near. She knew with a cold certainty that the gates of Neu-Li City would soon give way. She moved her horse to the right, and at her silent command, the cavalry broke away from the main infantry line.
As she passed Haitao, a familiar smile of absolute confidence spread across her face. "See you on the other side of that city wall, captain," she said, her voice a calm promise.
Haitao returned the smile, a grim, determined glint in his eyes. "Good luck, Chinua!" he replied, a single, powerful nod sealing their shared fate.
Chenghiz watched Chinua command the army with a cold, professional detachment, his jaw clenched in a quiet fury. He hated it, yet he had to admit that she was doing the impossible in the most effective way he had ever seen. The city's defenses, once thought impregnable, were dismantled with a tactical brilliance that cost a fraction of the casualties he would have expected. Though he had more experience on the battlefield than Chinua, he was forced to concede a truth he had never considered before: winning a war was not just about strength, but about a great executed plan.
Dawa scanned the battlefield, watching Chinua's forces move with a clockwork precision he had never witnessed. In that moment, with the city's gates under siege and its most powerful weapons neutralized, he finally understood. The praise he had heard whispered about her achievements in Hosha City was not just talk; it was a testament to the tactical genius unfolding before his very eyes. A long, low sigh escaped him, a sound of profound respect. "So," he murmured to himself, his voice laced with awe, "this is the Magoli Eastern General."
Although wounded, Batzorig rode his horse forward, his resolve unbreakable. As a military commander all his life, he knew he had to be a part of the final act. He rode his horse past his own soldiers, his voice a low, steady command that cut through the chaos. "The moment the city is breached, Dawa, Jochi, and Bolor," he ordered, his gaze sweeping over the three men, "you three will lead your men and head straight to the northern gate of Neu-Li City as support for Captain Naksh and his team with Captain Haitao and his men!"
On the northern side of the gate, Naksh, Jeet, Drystan, Khawn, and Bilguun watched in stunned silence as Xao, with Hye in tow, made his way to the edge of the city rampart.
A low growl escaped Bilguun. "How the hell did he get up there?" he exclaimed, his voice laced with confusion. "Isn't he supposed to be where Chinua is?"
Drystan let out a low chuckle, shaking his head in a mix of disbelief and grudging admiration. "That stubborn man," he said, the words a weary sigh. "He really doesn't follow military orders."
Jeet walked up to Long, his heavy boots making no sound on the dusty ground. He grabbed the back of Long's collar and, with a powerful yank, pulled him into a standing position. Long's hands were still bound, and his body swayed, but he held his ground. "It's your lucky day, soldier," Jeet said, his voice a low growl of grim satisfaction. "It seems like your subordinates will be using one of our men to exchange for you."
Xao's voice, booming with a desperate intensity, cut through the din of the battlefield. "You've got one of ours, and we've got one of yours. Let's make an exchange before you attack our city."
Bilguun stepped forward, his expression cold and unyielding. "It was his choice to walk into the enemy's den," he said, his voice flat. "So let him face the consequences of his actions."
Khawn's eyes, however, were fixed on the city wall. He found Hye standing there, motionless and fearless. "Captain," Khawn said, his voice a low, gravelly sigh of profound respect, "you are talking about Hye. One Hye is worth more than ten thousand soldiers on your side."
Jeet pushed Long forward, forcing him to take a wobbly step before regaining his balance. The heavy silence of the northern gate was shattered by Jeet's deep, booming voice. "Let's do it," he yelled, his gaze fixed on Xao. "Open the gate and let our man walk out!" The words were a final, brutal ultimatum, a direct challenge that demanded an immediate and irreversible choice.
Xao shoved Hye into the waiting arms of a Ginmiao soldier. His voice, raw with desperation, was a sharp command. "Take him out of the city! Make sure they first release Captain Long before you let him walk out of the open gate." The words were a grim and final set of instructions, a desperate gamble that placed the fate of their comrade in the hands of one soldier.
"Understood," the Ginmiao soldier replied, his face a mask of grim resolve as he took hold of Hye. With a firm hand, he began to push Hye down the winding stone stairwell, his every step a deliberate act of faith in his captain's desperate plan.
Standing at the small, open gate, Hye stared at the line of familiar faces just a short distance from him. The air was thick with a palpable tension, the silent moment before a storm. Then, a single movement broke the stillness: Long began to walk slowly towards the open gate. At the same time, the Ginmiao soldier gave Hye a firm push, and Hye, too, began his reluctant march forward, the two men moving across the barren ground, closing the distance between them with every deliberate step.
As he was about to walk past Long, Hye suddenly stopped. He stared directly at Long, a desperate plea in his eyes that had nothing to do with his own safety. "Captain," he said, his voice low and urgent, "you saw it with your own eyes. The white piece of cloth is the only way to ensure that the innocent civilians of Neu-Li City can be safe."
Long's doubt was shattered not by Hye's words, but by the sight of the civillian he led out—safe, unharmed, and already in the distance. Without saying anything, he simply glanced at Hye, a silent acknowledgment of their shared understanding, and began walking toward the small, cracked, open gate.