The haunted ground of Nue-Li was a place of oppressive silence and decay. Old buildings, their stone walls blackened with time and neglect, rose like skeletal fingers against the perpetually grey sky. The narrow, winding streets were choked with debris – scattered stones, shattered pottery, and the skeletal remains of forgotten market stalls. A thick, dark-green moss, almost black in places, clung stubbornly to every damp surface, painting eerie patterns across crumbling facades and seeping into the cracks of ancient flagstones. The ground underfoot was a churned, muddy mess, slick with continuous rain and years of accumulated grime, giving off a faint, musty odor.
At the far end, huddled together under what little shelter the dilapidated structures offered, were the captured Ginmiao soldiers, their ankles shackled to heavy stakes driven deep into the perpetually soggy earth. Their faces were hollow, their morale broken.
A distant murmur gradually grew into a chorus of footsteps and hushed voices. Around a bend in the winding path, Mayor Dae appeared, leading the first wave of refugees into this desolate quarter. Their faces, pale and drawn from exhaustion and fear, scanned the grim surroundings with a mixture of apprehension and weary resignation. They carried what little they could salvage, their movements slow and uncertain as they were guided towards the opposite side of the haunted ground, far from the watchful, wary eyes of their imprisoned countrymen.
As more people were led by the Hmagol soldiers toward the first group, the Ginmiao soldier prisoners grew worried and nervous. They watched the weary, frightened faces of the new arrivals and assumed they were citizens who had stood against the invaders and were now being punished. A low murmur of fear began to spread among the prisoners, quickly escalating into shouts and yells.
"Mayor Dae! Why were these people captured?!" one of them demanded. The cries were quickly picked up by others. "What have you done?! Why are they being treated like prisoners?"
The Magoli soldiers quickly shouted back at the prisoners, ordering them to keep their voices down. But the Ginmiao soldiers refused, their fear and rage boiling over. The two sides began to shout back and forth at each other, their angry words clashing in the rainy air. The misunderstanding, born of fear and desperation, had now turned violent, with each side's shouts only fueling the other's rage.
The loud voices of shouting and yelling from above echoed into the prison cell, the angry sounds bouncing off the damp stone walls. Inside, Chong, Xao, and Long were being held, their own tempers flaring with each distant cry.
"What in the world is going on up there?" Xao said angrily, his patience worn thin. "Are they mistreating our soldiers?"
"I would rather be out there than here," Long said angrily, his voice a low growl of frustration.
Just then, long shadows began to stretch and writhe down the corridor, their dark forms approaching the jail cell. Chong, Xao, and Long knew immediately that they had company.
A prison guard placed a wooden stool before the cell, but as Chinua and Khunbish approached, he quickly stepped back, allowing them space. Chinua sat down on the stool; her gaze fixed on Chong and his two captains. Her voice was calm and steady. "What is your decision?" she asked. "Do you still choose death over guarding the city?"
Chong's face remained impassive. "No matter how many times you ask me, my answer will remain the same," he said, his voice flat and resolute. "There is no need to continue asking the question."
Chinua sighed. "It's sad to see so many men will die for your stubbornness." She stood up. "Since you've made your decision, then you and your men; those who refused to surrender will be executed as soon as the news from Ntsua-Ntu arrives." She turned and began to walk away.
"Wait!" Xao's voice echoed, frantic and loud in the corridor.
Chinua turned back to face the cell. A slight smile touched her lips. "Has Captain Xao decided to change his mind?"
"No," Xao said, his voice laced with fury. "But... but I want to ask what's with the commotion up there." He stared at Chinua, his eyes burning with anger. "You said it yourself that you wouldn't humiliate the captured or surrendered soldiers."
"Why do you think they are being humiliated?" Chinua asked, her gaze fixed on Xao.
Long stood up from the ground and walked closer to the wooden bars. "We heard their shouting," he said, his voice laced with concern.
"It's a misunderstanding," Chinua said, her tone firm but not unkind. "Mayor Dae has already taken care of it." She then turned and walked away.
"Why do you already judge Chinua just because she is an Magoli?" Khunbish said, his voice carrying an edge of frustration as he met the three men's gaze. "Marking her as your sworn enemy because of the doing of those who came before her is so unfair when you know nothing about her or her view of the world."
He took two steps away and then turned back. "It's so unfair that Chinua is fighting those who do not appreciate her." He sighed and shifted his focus to Chong, his tone softening. "General, your wife is back. Do you want to see her?"
"She's back?" Chong murmured, trembling with emotion. "Why?"
"Not just her, but hundreds of Ginmiao from Zaoging," Khunbish said, his gaze hardening as he looked at all three men. "And your so-called sworn enemy is giving them a safe passage to stay in the city."
Chong quickly moved himself forward, his earlier defiance completely shattered. "I want to see my wife," he said, his voice urgent and raw. "Let me meet my wife."
Khunbish walked away, disappearing down the corridor. A moment later, Chong's wife rushed into view, her face streaked with tears as she ran toward the bars of his cell.
"Why are you here?" Chong asked, the words escaping in a voice filled with concern.
"Husband," Chong's wife said, tears streaming down her face. "Zaoging is under attack. I overheard that Suina City will not send help. The city is running out of food, and the dead litter the streets." She cried as she recalled the memories. "We decided that if we were going to slowly starve to death, we'd rather come back here and receive a quick death. At least we could die as a family, and there would be no need to be slowly tortured to death by hunger."
"Madam," Xao asked, his voice filled with urgency, "Who? Who is attacking Zoaging ?"
Chong's wife wiped a tear from her cheek. "General Xue had Captain Mao escort us back to make sure the city was safe," she said. "I heard it was a large army of unknown bandits."
"Where is he?" Long asked, his voice strained.
"He went back to Zaoging," Chong's wife said, her voice filled with sadness. "There are still thousands of people in Zaoging who refused to come, or those who got left behind because the gate was only open until the first sun ray."
Chong reached out and touched his wife's hand through the bars. "Go," he said firmly, his voice filled with a new resolve. "Go tell General Chinua that I've changed my mind and I need to speak with her now."
His heart had made its decision. If death was to come for him, whether by a Magoli executioner's blade or an enemy bandit's arrow in Zaoging, it made no difference. All that mattered was the final deal he could strike with Chinua, a chance, however slim, to save the lives of those still inside Zaoging.
Chong's wife turned and ran from the cell, disappearing down the corridor with her relief-filled sobs echoing behind her. A moment later, Chinua walked back in, but this time she was not alone. She was flanked by Hye and Khunbish. The three of them moved with a quiet, solemn authority, the air of the prison shifting from a place of emotional reunions to one of cold, hard negotiation.
Chong's gaze shifted from Chinua to Hye, his voice firm with a newfound resolve. "I agree to surrender and guard the city," he said, the words a complete reversal of his earlier defiance, "under one condition."
Chinua looked at Chong, a small smile gracing her lips. "Your one condition is to let your army charge to Zaoging, and after the battle, you will return and guard the city," she said, her voice calm and certain. "Is that right?"
Chong was taken completely aback, staring at her through the bars of his cell. "How... how do you know?" he stammered. In that moment, he finally understood the weight of Hye's words: that when he believed he was one step ahead of Chinua, she was already three steps ahead of him.
"How can you guarantee that the moment Chinua releases you and your soldiers from captivity, you won't turn your sword against her?" Hye asked, his voice sharp with suspicion.
Chong looked him in the eye. "My soldiers and I will not break military law under any circumstance, whether as your prisoners or on the battlefield as your enemies. To ease your concern, I will only take those who volunteer for the mission."
Chinua stood up from the stool. "Deal," she said, her voice firm. "But this deal can only be done when I receive news from Ntsua-Ntu."
"Why do you have to wait for the news?" Xao asked, his impatience boiling over. "Do you know that each day we waste here means hundreds of lives lost in Zaoging?"
"I know," Chinua replied. "So, you'd better pray that the ministers in the Hmagol royal court have mercy on you and Nue-Li."
Meanwhile, the envoy Li, carrying a royal decree for Chinua, was led by a soldier into a small, warm house on the northeast military camp
"Envoy Li, you can rest and have a bowl of warm mare milk here," the soldier said, his voice polite. "General Chinua is currently out to interrogate the prisoners. She will be back soon."
Envoy Li gave the soldier a slight smile and placed the royal decree carefully on the table. He picked up the bowl of warm mare's milk and took a drink, but then slowly raised the bowl higher toward his nose and sniffed it a few times. "No odor," he muttered to himself in confusion, "but why does it taste a little strange?" He took another sip, trying to decide if it was simply spoiled or something else.
Envoy Li, now wary of the strange taste, decided against another drink and set the bowl down on the table. In that instant, he felt his throat begin to close up. The more he tried to take a deep breath, the faster his airways constricted. After a few desperate attempts with no success, he dropped the bowl to the floor, clutching his hands around his neck as he gasped for air. He collapsed to the ground, his body struggling for a single, life-giving breath.
Through his blurring vision, he saw footsteps approach. He reached out a trembling hand to grab the ankle of a boot. Dzhambul lowered himself to the floor, staring into the dying man's eyes. With a cruel smile on his face, he said, "Sorry, Envoy Li. You shouldn't have come."