They stared down at the pitch-black ripples, flecked with scattered points of light, their gazes intent on piercing the water and seeing everything beneath it. But that was clearly impossible. Han Ling had vanished from their sight.
"That fellow really is ruthless."
"Yes. Who would have thought?" Zeng Mu agreed.
Yetos turned and glanced at Qin Zihui, who had died on his knees with his head hanging down. "A pity. He never saw that fellow's true face, even before he died. The Qin Kingdom's youngest Purple-Pattern General... tsk, tsk. Looks like his narrow outlook killed him in the end."
"Let's go. We need to get out there quickly. We can't delay." He pushed off with his toes and landed outside the doors.
Zeng Mu answered, picked up the dull-colored square box from the ground, and followed him toward the fiercest fighting in the city. The pavilion fell quiet again, leaving only the rushing water and the general's corpse, kneeling with its eyes wide open.
War raged throughout the city. The thousand-strong force led by the generals of the Wei State and Yan State finally breached the gates and poured inside. Clearly, they had paid dearly for it: their numbers had fallen to seven hundred. Yet that did nothing to stop their furious assault. Their tenacious fighting spirit only seemed to grow fiercer with every clash.
The silver gleam in Kanni's hand had dimmed considerably. So much blood had spilled, and changes in temperature had dried much of it onto the blade, coating its silver sheen. This was exceedingly rare for him. In all the battles of his life, he could count on one hand the times he had killed enough men to leave his treasured sword caked in blood.
Perhaps that was why such deep exhaustion showed on his face.