Severed Finger

The lonely cold wind brushed his cheeks, and tattered, dim flags fluttered. Xin Yi's fingers were stiff from the cold. He moved them a bit, then touched Heavenly Dao at his waist. It seemed to bring him peace.

Arslang attacked continuously, only barely stopping until dawn. Xin Yi had a splitting headache. He raised a hand to push back the stray hairs from his forehead, feeling a bit hot. The pungent mix of various smells was choking, making him feel even more nauseous.

This kind of attrition warfare easily makes one numb and exhausted; once anxious, mistakes are made. Xin Yi didn't want to make mistakes, so he closed his eyes in the wind for a few moments, trying to clear his mind.

Three days had passed since his last raid.

During these three days, he continuously attempted attacks, the greatest victory being burning Great Yuan's reserve siege equipment. But this wasn't entirely safe, as Great Yuan could still dispatch more from the rear.

His hands were covered in scars, but he no longer felt pain. This was exactly what Xin Yi wanted. He rubbed a handful of snow, then heard the horn calls from below.

Here they come again.

Xin Yi turned and descended the wall. Wu Yu, who was sleeping leaning against the wall, jolted awake. He got up and exchanged a high-five with Xin Yi, watching Xin Yi brush past him. He then patted his own cheeks and, with a voice hoarse beyond words, shouted, "Change of guards! Those who were on the wall last night go down, let those who were sleeping below come up! Release the beams, crush them!"

Over there, Xin Yi had already mounted his horse. He added something to the vambrace on his left arm, wiping away the metal plate to reveal sharp, spike-like protrusions inside.

The Beiyang Army soldier who mounted behind him shivered slightly, looking at the Prince's silent profile, and remembering how that thing was used, his heart thumped.

Xin Yi noticed the gaze, even turned his head and smiled at him, then pulled the reins and spurred his horse towards the city gate.

The city gate had already been improved by the engineering team, becoming a drop-gate style. They had embedded spikes underneath, identical to those on Xin Yi's arm. If this thing dropped down at a critical moment, it would undoubtedly be a surprise attack.

The spiked portcullis slowly lifted.

Xin Yi sat upright on his horse, drawing Heavenly Dao. The tip of the blade hung diagonally beside Chiye. Upon hearing the shouts from outside the gate, it dipped heavily, then suddenly swept down sideways the moment its master charged out.

Blood gurgled from the severed neck, Chiye had already galloped away. The lost head rolled into the chaotic footsteps, Xin Yi had already charged into the Great Yuan soldiers.

Killing shouts shook the heavens, the roars from the enemy were completely cut short by the blade. Anyone who could block Xin Yi's blade could not block the sharp spikes that followed. Xin Yi lunged into the crowd, Heavenly Dao and the spikes were stained and mottled, and so was he.

Three Great Yuan soldiers' sabers clashed, their backs pushing against Chiye's forward movement. Xin Yi slid off the horse's back, his agile figure instantly pouncing to seize one person's throat from the front. The opponent's eyes widened, reflecting his expressionless face in a flicker of fear. A person to the side raised a blade, but Heavenly Dao flipped in his palm, piercing through that person's throat, then was mercilessly pulled out. The person still caught in his grip trembled, trying to shout something, but Xin Yi squeezed with his fingers, extinguishing that life at his fingertips.

A sickening crunch was chilling.

Charge, pierce, cleave.

Only these six words seemed to remain in his mind, and Xin Yi's movements were numb. His lower back was suddenly struck by a heavy object, his armor dented, the sensation of his wound tearing open jolted Xin Yi's spirit, and Heavenly Dao had already swung back down.

He was completely surrounded, layers upon layers of Great Yuan soldiers charging forward relentlessly. Xin Yi began to take hits from blades, but he refused no one, cutting them all down with his sword.

Heavenly Dao.

This name now made people tremble just to hear it.

His father and elder brothers had always faced such battlefields, continuously, until they no longer could.

Many times, saying a sentence feels incredibly easy, but only when one wades through mountains of blades and seas of fire for that sentence can one truly feel the immense weight and unwavering resolve within it, day and night.

Unbeknownst when, a chilling wind blew, turning into his collar, making his chest cold. Xin Yi stepped on corpses, panting as he looked around.

Endless.

Endless Great Yuan soldiers.

What he had cut down with all his might was only one in tens of millions. Blood melted the accumulated snow into a stream, corpses made the white disappear entirely. Corpses of unknown days had piled up here, beneath his feet, and weighing on his shoulders.

Xin Yi saw Arslang.

He suddenly blew a whistle, Chiye galloped over, and he flipped onto its back. Chiye leaped and crashed through the crowd, charging towards Arslang. This was already an unknown number of clashes between them, yet the Lion King remained as steadfast as Mount Tai.

Arslang's long blade had broken under Heavenly Dao last night; today, he carried a scimitar. That heavy, cold-edged blade was difficult to deal with, like a snake coiling around Jianan Mountain, even more so than his long blade's steady thunder, becoming cunning and vicious.

Wu Yu was calculating the timbers on the wall. The sky began to darken from its bright state, and the cold became pressing.

Xin Yi couldn't spend the night outside the city unless he had ample charcoal and food.

Xin Yi gradually sensed something was wrong.

Arslang continued to entangle him without retreating, and the assault on the city gate wasn't even as fierce as last night. Nearly half of Great Yuan's forces were pressing in the rear, neither giving him an opportunity to raid nor making any moves.

Xin Yi suddenly drew his blade, but Arslang immediately followed, his scimitar coiling around him like a snake, trapping him. He couldn't break free, nor could he retreat.

Arslang wanted to leave him outside the city!

The heavy troops in the rear began to advance, their hooves digging, like giant beasts, crushing their way towards the city gate. If Xin Yi couldn't get back before the heavy troops reached the city gate, he would be forced to stay outside. Wu Yu would have to choose to abandon the Prince of Yan to preserve the Beiyang Army and the people remaining in Shangjin.

Can't retreat!

Suddenly, a sharp whistle exploded to one side. Several people, pulling chains, spun around Chiye. Chiye neighed and bucked, but unexpectedly got its hind hooves entangled in the chains, unable to break free.

Xin Yi felt a pang of heartache for it. Before he could turn his head, his lapels were yanked violently, and he was then slammed hard to the ground! Xin Yi landed face down, his legs immediately clamping onto Arslang's shoulders, which halved the force of the impact. Still, it left him dizzy, blurry-eyed, and nauseous. Then, a heavy blow from the flat of a blade landed on his stomach, making Xin Yi gag out sour fluid as he was thrown to the ground.

Without command, the scimitars from all sides were already poised to cut his throat.

Chiye suddenly grew furious. It bucked its hooves, knocking away the blade above Xin Yi's head. Its hind hooves dragged the people pulling the chains, swinging them through the crowd.

Xin Yi, using the ground for support, cleanly cut down the person holding the blade right next to him. He stumbled to his feet and scrambled onto Chiye's back.

The heavy troops had already reached the city gate, and Wu Yu was almost frantic with anticipation. But how could Xin Yi make it back in time? Wu Yu gritted his teeth again and again, hissing, "Drop the gate!"

Drop the gate!

A little brat struggled out from between people's legs, bumped into Wu Yu's leg, and bit down hard.

Wu Yu's eyes were red with urgency, yet he couldn't say another word. He ignored the little brat, turned back to pound the parapet, and hoarsely shouted with all his might, "Drop the gate!"

The spiked portcullis crashed down with a roar.

It was already dark. Xin Yi's figure flickered in and out of sight amidst the Great Yuan crowd. Chiye's neighing grew more distant. Wu Yu clung to the top of the wall, desperately shouting, "The Lord is in the south!"

Xin Yi seemed to turn his head.

Wu Yu felt his face was a bit wet, he didn't know if it was because it had started to snow.

The pitch-black night sky had no stars.

'The Lord is in the south.'

'You still have to go south, you can't fall here.'

Chiye kept running.

The snow grew thicker and thicker. When Chiye could run no more, Xin Yi finally slid and tumbled off its back, crashing into the snow. His armor clanged, but he remained motionless.

Chiye still dragged chains on its hind hooves. It lowered its head and nudged Xin Yi's cheek, but received no response. Chiye circled him once and then settled down beside him.

The snow intensified.

Before long, Xin Yi's body and hair were covered in white snow. His cheeks were pale and blue, and the hand pressed beneath him showed no movement. But the weather was too cold; if he lay there any longer, he would freeze to death. Chiye began to lick Xin Yi's cheek, and the warm, wet sensation finally brought back his consciousness.

He stirred, then suddenly opened his eyes.

His breathing became ragged. Xin Yi wanted to get up, but when his left hand pressed into the snow, he suddenly felt something was wrong. The snow blocked his view. Xin Yi slowly withdrew his hand. The back of his hand gradually emerged from the snow, and just as his fingers were about to appear, he stopped.

His Adam's apple bobbed. Xin Yi's bitten lips were dry and bloody.

His.

His left pinky finger was gone.

Perhaps it was lost in the chaos of battle, perhaps under Arslang's scimitar, perhaps on his desperate escape route.

It was just gone.

"Ah." He lowered his head and buried it in the snow. After a long while, when the snow was almost burying him, he softly chuckled to Chiye, his lips bitter, 'It's good it wasn't my right hand.'

The right hand still needed to hold a blade.

Xin Yi scrambled to his feet, snow showering down from him. His eyebrows were covered in frost, his limbs stiff from the cold. Chiye's hind hooves were chafed by the chains. He squatted down to remove them, and Chiye took a few steps, then began to run circles around Xin Yi on the snow, as if flying.

Heavenly Dao was still there, but his armor was too damaged to wear. Xin Yi removed his armor and, leading Chiye, began to trek through the heavy snow.

Chiye had carried him for an entire night. Great Yuan only sent light cavalry after him; Arslang still had to remain outside Shangjin in a standoff. As dawn broke, the snow was heavy again, and Xin Yi found it difficult to discern his location. But because he had Shangjin behind him, he should be in the buffer zone between Great Lan and Great Yuan, closer to Great Yuan.

Too cold.

He only had one horse and one blade.

In a daze, he didn't know how much time had passed. His feet in the snow had lost all sensation. Amidst the vast expanse of wind and snow, Xin Yi finally spotted a hint of human habitation.

"Brother! Is that our horse?" In the heavy snow, a girl wrapped in a sheepskin cloak shielded her eyes with her hand, shouting loudly to the tall, strong young man in front of her, "Over there! Look over there!" No sooner had she finished speaking than she tripped and fell to her knees in the snow.

The young man turned and scooped her up, also shouting loudly, "Where?"

The girl yelled into her brother's ear, "Deaf Aoyun! Right there!" She pointed directly at Xin Yi.

Aoyun ignored his sister's scolding, followed her pointing finger, and immediately saw the magnificent red horse. His eyes lit up, then he frowned, pulled his sister closer, and said, "No, it's not our horse."

He saw the young man leading the horse, in a single shirt with snow on his back. Even though the other person looked gentle and appeared disheveled, he had no intention of approaching carelessly.

He stood his ground, asking loudly through the wind and snow.

"Who are you?"

Xin Yi's throat was dry, his mind clouded, but he gripped the blade at his waist tightly and did not reply.

Aoyun frowned, his voice deepening.

"Beiyang Army?"