The moment the two lines of men locked eyes outside the South Prison, the precarious stalemate was broken. It was not Lixin who gave the order, but Mönkhbat, who lunged forward, transforming into a sudden, violent blur that defied the heavy, wounded weight of the Crown Prince strapped to his back. The spear became a deadly extension of the Southern General's will.
His first thrust was clean and precise, punching through the throat of the nearest imperial guard, instantly silencing him. Mönkhbat did not pause. He wrenched the spear back and used the long shaft to sweep the legs of two other guards, sending them crashing to the ground.
Naksh, Dolgoon, and Buqa moved into a tight, three-man wedge around their leader, protecting Mönkhbat's flanks. They were facing a two-to-one disadvantage, but their battlefield experience made them far more dangerous than the city guards. Naksh, using his katars, focused on breaking the guards' shield formation. Dolgoon, quick and agile, targeted the joints and arteries of the advancing men.
Lixin, recognizing the lethal skill of their opponents, shrieked, "Ignore the others! Take down the one carrying the prince! Do not let him reach the main gate!"
The guards surged forward in a disorganized wave, desperate to capture the high-value target. Mönkhbat met the assault with brutal efficiency. The spear, used one moment for thrusting, was the next moment a bludgeoning staff, cracking helmets and breaking bones. The strap securing Batsaikhan provided stability but limited Mönkhbat's overall maneuverability. He used the weight of the Crown Prince not as a burden, but as a commitment, forcing him to fight forward and never step back.
Suddenly, a massive swing from a prison guard's battleaxe managed to clip the wooden shaft of Mönkhbat's spear, shattering it. Mönkhbat threw the useless shaft aside and, without hesitation, quickly stepped back as Naksh sent another spear flying his way. Mönkhbat turned, caught the new spear with his left hand, and immediately slashed it forward across the eyes and faces of those who rushed at him, believing they had finally captured him.
The new spear turned the defense into an immediate, furious attack. The movement of the newly wielded weapon cut through the guards' light armor as if it were cloth, leaving a swath of bodies in the small, chaotic space outside the South Prison gate.
Mönkhbat now faced only four badly wounded imperial guards, who were slowly backing away from him. He carried the Crown Prince as his followers finished killing the remaining guards behind him.
Lixin's eyes were filled with fear—and a horrifying realization. He finally recognized that the man standing in front of him was no other than the Southern General himself.
Lixin finally let out a loud, hollow laughter that echoed in the empty prison garrison filled with his dead men.
"No wonder these useless men were not able to touch His Highness," Lixin said with a twisted smile. The plot he had been working so hard on for over ten years had finally come true: Mönkhbat had taken the bait, and his Southern Border was now wide open for the full-scale attack from the Tanggolia force. "They are not just fighting anyone, but the Southern General himself."
The wounded imperial guards looked at Mönkhbat, their hearts trembling and their hands shaking.
Mönkhbat pointed his sword straight at the remaining guards and said fiercely, "Drop your weapon if you still want to live."
Lixin smiled and stepped aside. "Do as he say." He knew Mönkhbat had walked right into his trap.
As Naksh, Dolgoon, and Buqa walked past the four frightened imperial guards and Lixin, the three men quickly turned and killed the remaining guards swiftly and brutally, leaving no witnesses.
As Lixin turned to run, Naksh jumped forward, kicked him hard in the back, sending him tumbling to the ground. Naksh jumped onto Lixin's back and stabbed his katar down straight into Lixin's head, but due to Lixin's frantic struggle, Naksh's katar found Lixin's right shoulder blade instead. As he pulled the katar up again for a second blow, the loud, running footsteps of soldiers heading their way forced him to abandon his mission, with Dolgoon urging him to leave now.
They rushed fast, having evaded Lixin's initial trap. However, as they were heading toward the small "dog hole" they originally came through, they discovered their exit was compromised: a large group of imperial guards was marching straight toward the South Prison from that very direction.
"What are we going to do?" Dolgoon asked urgently. "We can't go back the way we came from."
"We will go through Chinua's courtyard," Batsaikhan said weakly, resting his heavily wounded body on Mönkhbat's back. "There is a secret hiding passage she always used to get out of the palace. Her courtyard has been deserted since she left, and the only person who is still living there is the old eunuch. He won't even know that we are there, since he can't hear well."
"Show us the way," Mönkhbat commanded, instantly accepting the risk of an internal palace passage.
"Go straight and turn onto the second walk path," Batsaikhan said, managing a slight cough.
Mönkhbat immediately began running, carrying Batsaikhan on his back, heading toward the direction Batsaikhan had guided. He continued running, zigzagging through pathway after pathway, avoiding the most heavily patrolled routes according to Batsaikhan's whispered directions, with Naksh, Dolgoon, and Buqa following closely behind, their weapons drawn and ready for an ambush.
At three in the morning, Chinua and Hye were waiting for the signal, knowing that even if they initiated a breakout, the loyalist soldiers guarding them would not take their lives. Chinua was relying on that inherent hesitation. She knew in her heart that if one of them had to escape, it would most likely have to be Hye. And if Hye escaped, it meant she, too, had escaped, because Hye would never leave her a prisoner of Dzhambul.
She was certain now that the order being carried out by Dzhambul was illegitimate, and she had every intention of not remaining a prisoner when she wasn't truly a criminal.
She turned to look at Hye, and with a determined smile, she asked, "Are you ready?"
"As ready as never before," Hye replied.
Chinua opened the door, which, surprisingly, was not locked. But the moment she stepped out, two soldiers quickly rushed forward to stop her.
"General," one of the soldiers said firmly. "Please return to the room."
Chinua chuckled easily. "Soldier, this is not something that we can do inside the room."
The soldiers looked at Chinua oddly, confused by her remark. "General, I do not understand what you mean?"
Chinua took two steps closer and lowered her tone conspiratorially. "You see, that rice porridge that was given to us... it caused us to have severe stomachache, so we really, really need to go."
"We drank it and we are fine," the other soldier said, scratching the side of his temple suspiciously.
Hye began loudly rubbing his abdomen and contorting his face into an expression of discomfort. "People's stomachs are different! Do you really want us to drop our pants and do our business here so you can see that we are for real?" Hye said, ensuring his voice sounded urgent and slightly threatening. "I don't mind, but what about Chinua? Huh? Even if she is a prisoner, her title is still higher than yours. First, she is a woman. Secondly, she is a General. Thirdly, she is royal—not just any royal, but the beloved Princess of His Majesty—and lastly..."
"Fine... fine, follow me," the soldier snapped impatiently, unwilling to listen to Hye's endless list of Chinua's titles and worried about the impending mess.
Chinua and Hye followed the two guards and the remaining eight soldiers trailing behind them toward the restroom area. The lead soldier pushed the door to one stall open and said, "Go in."
Chinua looked at Hye and said, "Hye, you go first. It seems you ate more rice porridge than me."
Hye quickly rushed into the stall and closed the door.
Chinua's eyes tracked the two guards: one with his back turned, the other facing her but clearly unsettled by the stench of human waste. The moment the forward guard turned his head to speak to his partner, Chinua erupted into motion. She surged forward, launching herself into the air. Her right foot shot out, slamming into the chest of the man in front, while her upper body pivoted violently. Her right fist became a blur, connecting with the side of the unsuspecting guard's head. The second soldier dropped to the ground, instantly unconscious.
The sudden commotion caused the other eight soldiers to rush forward toward Chinua, their weapons drawn. One soldier rushed forward, swinging his sword directly at Chinua. Chinua shifted slightly to the side, grabbed the soldier's wrist, and bent it backward, which caused the soldier to scream in pain. She snatched the sword from his hand, flipped the sword sideways, and used the flat of the blade to hit the soldier's head, knocking him down to the ground. Without pause, she drove a hard kick into the fallen soldier's abdomen, sending him skidding twenty yards until he crashed violently into a large water jar.
The remaining seven soldiers rushed Chinua simultaneously. They clashed, trading a flurry of fierce blows, but amid the chaos, a chilling realization struck the men. They were drawing actual, lethal steel against a royal princess. Weapons have no eyes, the thought flashed through their minds. If Chinua were harmed, the punishment would come not just from Dzhambul, but from the King himself. In unison, the soldiers abruptly abandoned their swords, clattering them to the ground. They paused for a split second, then launched themselves at Chinua again, this time with only their fists.
Chinua smirked, stabbing the sword in her hand into the ground, and with her bare fists, she began counter-attacking the seven soldiers. As the brawl continued, the soldiers managed to hit Chinua several times, but between Chinua and the seven soldiers, the soldiers ended up with the most injuries.
Hye waited until the silence was complete before cautiously opening the stall door. He emerged to a scene of defeat: ten soldiers were sprawled across the floor, all conscious but whimpering and rolling in agony. He then made his way to the broken water jar. The soldier lying there was in a much worse state—unmoving, in a spreading pool of blood, bearing injuries far more severe than those inflicted in the recent brawl.
Hye washed his hands, looking at Chinua. "Yo, this one is piercing with sharps," he noted, wiping his hands on his simple robe.
"Let's make a run for it," Chinua said.
Hye smirked. "Why make a run for it, when we can ride out without using our legs?" He moved his head, gesturing to a horse stable fifty yards away from them.
"Then let's go," Chinua said as she walked past Hye and began running toward the horse stall.