War began

People might spend their whole lives wasting away in a blur of busyness. Those who still had a few thoughts of their own would ponder a question they could never quite answer:

"What did people come into this world for, anyway?"

Some believed it was money, so they spent their lives working desperately to earn it; some believed it was fame, so they immersed themselves in books and strove to pass the imperial examinations, hoping at least to secure an official post and make a living through scholarship; others believed it was neither money nor other people: it was so their friends and family would have someone to depend on, their partners someone to lean on, for the greater good of their people and country, for the continuation of future generations... There were so many reasons...

Whatever their reason, anyone who had such a conviction was at least clearheaded, had a sense of direction, and had not wasted their life.

Almost all of the more than three thousand men in this Seven Kingdoms Coalition had made it this far with such a conviction.

And what was war?

It was gunfire, splashing blood, trampling, and destruction. It was also a way out, a release, a chance to reclaim what was lost, and a new beginning.

They were soldiers. No matter how many thoughts filled their heads, they cast them aside the moment they donned their armor. Otherwise, why become soldiers rather than advisers or officials?

Because they wanted to become generals! Heroes who could stir the winds and clouds, peerless figures who could change the face of heaven and earth with a sweep of their sleeves. Rather than the scheming, corruption, and complications of advisers and officials, they had chosen a simpler, more direct path.

Those fellows from the Holy Temple believed in God and glory, while those from the Viking Tribes believed in Valhalla, ale, and meat. The Seven Kingdoms were different. They believed in neither heaven nor man, yet believed in both heaven and man-it all depended on whether it was day or night.

Honor yin and revere yang; follow only King Xun. Let the heart burn with an eternal flame, illuminating the celestial realm.

All these convictions together had made them who they were today, men who had survived years of fighting and charging into battle to reach this moment.

They firmly believed that, in the eyes of the kings they each served, they were great and valiant. Even if they fell on the battlefield tomorrow, they believed their kings and people would remember their undying spirit!

It was this faith that allowed them to fight the mighty Vikings and clash with the Holy Temple's knights on their fierce warhorses, wave after wave, without end.

Tonight would be an unforgettable night in which they fulfilled their ambitions. Every soldier's eyes looked different from usual, without the slightest trace of laxness. After several days camped on the hilltop, some had grown so restless they could almost scratch themselves bloody. Gazing at the faint clouds of fire in the darkness ahead, their eyes gleamed with the excitement of hungry wolves about to descend upon a flock of lambs.

As the army quickened its pace, a thunderclap exploded above the clouds in the night sky. No lightning followed, only a chill rain slanting down like silver needles.

The rain was light, but cold against the skin. The head and shoulders were especially vulnerable to that chill; prolonged exposure would upset the balance of yin and yang within the body.

Ordinary people could not endure much rain. At best, their legs would feel weak the following day; at worst, they would fall ill with a chill. To soldiers, this little drizzle was nothing, but for an army about to enter battle, it was usually neither welcome nor a good omen.

Qin Zihui looked up. What he saw was not a thick bank of dark clouds, but an ocean of silver needles where heaven and earth met.

He rubbed his palms, dry yet damp, and for some reason his heart tightened. The feeling seemed like a forewarning of trouble.

Han Ling, riding beside him, naturally noticed the change in his expression and immediately broke the tension. "General, I don't know if you've heard, but Sand City has plenty of foreign blond, blue-eyed women. Those whores are much bolder than the ones in our brothels. How should I put it? A hen in a cage is hard enough to handle, but let a wild bird out of its basket and it'll flap all over the place."

"Hahaha!" As Han Ling chuckled, Qin Zihui's hands relaxed, and much of the tension in his heart eased.

Of the Seven Kingdoms, the Qin Kingdom had the strongest military, and the Han Kingdom the weakest. Though he knew Han Ling was no decent man, he was quite satisfied with his performance as a fawning lapdog.

"General, once we take Sand City tonight, we can enjoy another taste of those women." A lecherous glint crept into Han Ling's smile.

"With a major battle ahead, we cannot let our guard down," Qin Zihui said in a low voice. "You should think about how you'll withstand the rain of arrows first."

Rather than bristle at the warning, Han Ling smiled and repeatedly bowed his head. "Naturally, I'll stay behind you, General. With you here, it's like having a mountain at my back."

While the two spoke, the front ranks finished climbing the slope and stepped onto level ground.

Sand City's lights flickered in the nighttime rain, hazy yet distinct. Though it stood a thousand meters away, it still seemed impossible to take in all at once. It was rather like a woman: unless you went inside yourself, you would never know what made Sand City so delightful.

Qin Zihui glanced back at the army. The "fishing net" stretched long and wide, and from the slope it looked like ten thousand flowing lights. It was truly heartening. That single glance dispelled the last unease lingering in his heart.

He turned back and raised a hand to measure the outline of Sand City, seemingly within reach. A light shone in his eyes, a metallic gleam like metal burning in a flame.

Sand City will be mine, he told himself, clenching his hand into a fist.

The dark clouds overhead drifted faster, but the rain suddenly stopped. Han Ling, who had been grinning lecherously a moment earlier, abruptly changed expression. He looked up, his ears pricked like a rabbit's, his eyes visibly alarmed as he searched.

He looked, then looked again, and finally saw it: the silver needles across this area had frozen-or rather, some force had enveloped and cut them off.

Whoosh! Light of an indistinguishable brown, gold, or green erupted from the ground, pouring into the night sky like magma that had changed color.

The first to suffer was a Qi Kingdom General riding at the very front. As the light surged past his horse's hooves and engulfed his armor, his eyes bulged like bronze bells. To his horror, the light destroyed his protection as easily as fire consumed paper.

That high-grade armor, forged at temperatures of several hundred degrees, was made from tough material capable of resisting blades and weaker spear thrusts. Yet the instant it met the light, it crumbled, bursting apart like a helpless block of tofu. The flesh, meridians, and bones beneath melted and burned along with it, turning to black charcoal before releasing a foul, acrid stench of scorched coal into the air.

Those two seconds seemed to slow without end. Qin Zihui watched helplessly as men, horses, banners, and war machines disintegrated. Beneath that terrifying, swift force of destruction, they could not even utter one final scream of agony.

But he could see their faces, each one alive and vivid. Some bore calm expressions, others panic. On still others... he could not tell what expression they wore, nor guess what had passed through their minds in that instant.

He knew only that the battle had begun.

"A trap! Everyone, get down!" he roared. His voice thundered, sounding less as though it came from his throat than from the soles of his feet.

Whoosh! An invisible aura spread outward from him. The powerful gusts swept several already frightened warhorses off their feet and sent them tumbling.

A flowing pattern, white as a jade disc, appeared on Qin Zihui's forehead. It was his wind element mark.

He pushed off with both feet and stood firmly on his horse's back. The warhorse that had followed him for years understood the situation and remained utterly still.

As he spread all ten fingers, a pillar of white energy drove straight into the ground. The roaring wind lashed Han Ling, who was hiding beneath the horse's belly, until his ears ached.

The light dissipated, and the powerful winds gradually subsided.

At that very moment, the ground beneath them began to heave even more violently.

Cracks widened and spread. Sharp, rounded, and irregular masses emerged from beneath the earth, darting and contracting as though alive.

Men and horses toppled. There was nowhere solid to stand, and the ground churned chaotically, undulating like ocean waves. Soldiers and warhorses alike had eyes filled with nothing but terror and panic. This was not a fight against other men, where courage and confidence had a place. This was sheer, crushing power, and no one could withstand such a scene.

The front ranks melted and perished under the might of the Elemental Trap. The center and rear ranks, still on the slope, stared blankly at the fire ahead with conflicted expressions, unable to do anything.

The ground's frenzy lasted only half a minute before it abruptly fell still. Clearly, some force had drained it, causing the elemental energy to ebb.

Qin Zihui's face rapidly paled. His disheveled hair whipped against the edges of his armor, and his eyes and facial muscles spasmed and trembled. His entire body was rigid, without an inch of softness or warmth left.

The shattered, ravaged earth became still once more. The hundreds of figures who had stood there two minutes earlier had departed for their final home.

Splurt! Qin Zihui could no longer hold back the hot blood that sprayed from his mouth. His pale face twitched, and as his feet lost their strength, he toppled backward. Han Ling, peering out from beneath the horse's belly, reacted swiftly. He pushed off and sprang out like a rabbit from its burrow, catching Qin Zihui securely.

"General, are you all right?!" he cried in panic. Who could have imagined such a disaster before the army even reached the city?

Nearly unconscious, Qin Zihui managed a slight shake of his head. He raised a clenched fist high and shouted in his already hoarse voice, "Attack! Attack, damn you!"

Crescent-shaped horns sounded in the hands of the assault troops. Their bold notes rang through heaven and earth with heated force, reaching every soldier's ears.

"Kill!" A hundred soldiers shouted together, their voices surging skyward and drawing the soldiers behind them into the cry. The waves of sound overlapped, ringing with strength, boundless might, and murderous intent as they charged toward firelit Sand City.

Thunder roared through the night sky. Amid the surging wind and clouds, silver needles rained down again, no longer slanted, no longer cold. Passing through the rising cloud of earth, they carried a trace of warmth and crimson as they moistened the barren, blackened ground.