Chapter 22: Valley of Flames
Dawn broke like a blade drawn across the sky—fiery and sharp.
Yu Zhen stood atop the village's eastern rise, watching smoke snake upward in the distance. Black plumes curled into the clouds like dark fingers, clawing toward the sun. Somewhere beyond that ridge, Kaien's forces had begun to burn the outer farms—empty fields now, but once home to quiet lives.
He turned away before the wind brought the scent of charred earth.
Down in Jingyang, the village was already alive. Drills echoed through the morning air. Children dashed between stations, carrying messages. A new group of villagers practiced assembling and disassembling wooden ballistae—newly constructed siege deterrents.
Lan Yueran approached, wiping sweat from her brow. "Scouts returned. Enemy vanguard four miles out. They're testing the ground."
"They're looking for fear," Yu Zhen replied. "Let them find stone."
She handed him a worn map. "Kaiwen marked old burial tunnels under the western slope. If we collapse them, it'll delay any attempt to flank us."
Yu Zhen studied the lines. "Collapse them. But quietly."
---
Later that morning, Yu Hao stood in a circle with six other children, each gripping small wooden swords. Yu Lian paced before them, arms crossed.
"You are the last line when no one else is left. So train like your life—and your brother's—depends on it."
A murmur of laughter came from nearby adults, but none interrupted. Yu Lian's intensity had earned respect.
Madam Yue passed by with herbal satchels. "No bruises on the face, please," she said without looking.
"We'll try, Mother!" Yu Hao shouted.
By midday, the village bell rang once—a signal for all to gather. In the square, Yu Zhen stood before them. He spoke calmly, without theatrics.
"We are not helpless. We are not small. We know these hills. We know these trees. Let them come with fire and swords—we will answer with will and roots."
He paused. "There may be losses. There may be pain. But we do not bow to tyrants. Not here."
The villagers murmured in agreement, resolve hardening into shared certainty.
---
In the fields just south of the main road, Elder Meng led a group of farmers as they planted iron stakes and covered them with straw, forming false paths through the grass. Booby traps lined the ravine behind them, built with ropes and pulleys, sharpened spikes and falling nets soaked in resin.
Yu Lian observed from a distance. "Smart. If they try to flank through here, we'll trap them in a pit of fire."
Elder Meng grunted. "I may be old, girl, but I can still build a death trap."
She grinned. "Just don't fall into it yourself."
---
That afternoon, thunder rolled—not from the sky, but from drums. War drums. Deep and distant.
Yu Zhen and Kaiwen stood side by side on the outer wall, peering toward the valley. The smoke was heavier now. Flame-tipped banners rose between trees like bloodied spears.
"That's no feint," Kaiwen muttered.
"No," Yu Zhen said. "It's a declaration."
Moments later, a single rider emerged from the valley, galloping fast. He bore no weapon, only a scroll.
"Let him through," Yu Zhen ordered.
The rider stopped thirty paces from the gate, unfurled the scroll, and shouted, "Lord Kaien offers terms of surrender. Lay down arms, open your gates, and no blood shall be spilled. Resist, and Jingyang shall burn."
The words fell heavy on the wind.
Yu Zhen stepped forward.
"You may return this message to your lord."
He drew the wooden sword and slashed it through the air.
A gust of wind knocked the rider's hat from his head.
"We are not afraid."
The rider's face paled. He turned and rode off without another word.
Lan Yueran exhaled. "That was bold."
"It was honest."
Kaiwen added, "Now they know you're not bluffing."
---
At night, the outer fires lit up the sky. Villagers watched in silence as orange light danced on rooftops.
Yu Hao sat beside his sister, hugging his spear.
"Are they coming tonight?" he asked.
"Maybe."
"Will we win?"
Yu Lian looked toward the gate. "We'll stand. That's what matters."
Elsewhere, in the shrine-turned-strategy room, Yu Zhen and his inner circle gathered around a map. Dots marked potential siege points. Runes glowed on parchment as Kaiwen adjusted the protective layers of charm barriers.
"Three breaches likely. Main force from the west. Two feints from the north and south."
Yu Zhen nodded. "Let them come. Every path leads to fire."
"Villagers are ready," said Elder Meng. "We've hidden food reserves beneath the old grain stores. If the walls fall, we still have days to resist."
Lan Yueran added, "Traps are set in the lower ravines. Even if they break through, we'll make them pay."
Yu Zhen looked around the room—faces worn, but unbroken. "Then let's begin the final watch."
They dispersed to their stations.
---
Far beyond, in a fortress carved into a black cliff, Kaien watched the flames consume the horizon. Behind him stood his generals, clad in dark crimson armor.
He pointed toward the valley. "That village has become a symbol. Symbols must be shattered."
"But they are dug in," one general warned.
Kaien's eyes narrowed. "Then we dig them out. Grind them down. Make them beg."
He turned to the shadow-masked mage beside him. "Unleash the lesser spirits."
The mage bowed. "As you command."
From a dark altar, wisps of corrupted energy twisted into the sky.
---
Back in Jingyang, midnight bells chimed once—signal of movement.
Yu Zhen, on the wall, saw faint shadows moving in the smoke. Too silent for men. Too fluid.
"Kaiwen," he called. "They've released something."
She stepped beside him, eyes glowing faintly as she activated a spiritual sigil in her palm. "Spirits. Not strong. But fast. Designed to kill quietly."
Lan Yueran appeared moments later. "We've trained for this."
Yu Zhen smiled grimly. "Then let's show them what training means."
The three of them leapt from the wall—into the dark.
What met them was not soldiers, but living mist. The spirits moved without sound, slipping between gaps in stone and wood, flickering like flame and shadow.
Yu Zhen moved swiftly, striking with precision. Kaiwen's sigils ignited the air with bursts of energy, each light a seal to anchor the phantoms. Lan Yueran's twin blades sliced through illusions and shapes not meant for this world.
Hours passed. Cries were muffled. Fires smoldered low.
And when the stars began to fade behind the gray of dawn, Jingyang still stood.
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