Standing and staring directly into the setting sun, Chinua noticed that the horizon carried none of the bright, bleeding colors it normally would. The sky was entirely drained—a bruised, hollow gray. Perhaps it was because the souls of her recently fallen warriors were still unable to rest, or perhaps Heaven itself was preparing her heart for the impending deaths and the inevitable, bloody fall of Ngabo City.
The biting, high-altitude wind whistled fiercely through the ears of the one hundred elite women soldiers. They stood divided into ten distinct groups, meticulously spaced apart across the rocky plateau. Their knuckles turned a stark white as they gripped the bamboo frames of the massive, canvas-winged structures resting in front of them.
The howling wind whipped mercilessly against their eyelashes, making their eyes water in the freezing air, but their expressions remained completely focused, hardened like flint. They were waiting. Waiting for the sun to finally drop below the jagged mountain peaks. Waiting for the exact moment to strike the enemy directly in the throat. Waiting to achieve a feat that even the toughest male soldier in the realm would never dare to conquer.
They waited in absolute, suffocating silence.
Then, as the final sliver of the sun sank beneath the dark horizon, their moment arrived.
A sharp, wordless signal cut through the howling wind. Simultaneously, the soldiers checked the heavy ropes securing their bodies to the canvas wings, performing a final, meticulous inspection left and right to ensure every weapon, blade, and tool they needed was locked onboard. With their massive gliders braced against the sudden updraft, they sprinted together toward the highest precipice of the Whitefang Peaks—and one by one, they leaped off the edge of the world.
Standing at the absolute brink of the cliff, listening to the violent wind howl above her and echo in the deep abyss below, Chinua watched alongside Hye. Together, they looked on as the one hundred female soldiers caught the powerful mountain thermals, gliding flawlessly through the open night sky, heading straight toward the dark throat of Mopia Valley.
"They say that no man can conquer Mopia Valley," Chinua said, a soft, dangerous scoff escaping her lips as her eyes tracked the silent armada. "Good thing I am no man. I will bring Mopia Valley to her knees."
Without another word, Chinua and Hye threw themselves onto the backs of their mounts. They violently wheeled the horses around, spurring them into a furious, breakneck gallop down the treacherous mountainside, while above them, the one hundred dark kites flew silently through the shadows toward their destination.
Waiting at the foot of the mountain, eight thousand Hmagoli soldiers stood locked in a dense, impenetrable formation. Their eyes collectively tracked the darkening sky, watching the one hundred dark kites soar through the open heavens like a flock of silent vultures sweeping toward carrion.
Then, the thundering rumble of galloping hooves echoed down the mountainside, shattering the quiet. The soldiers' focus instantly snapped forward as Chinua and Hye tore through the low-hanging mist. Chinua slammed her iron spear deep into the earth, bringing her mount to a skidding, dust-kicking stop at the absolute front of the vanguard.
Chinua wheeled her horse around to face the massive sea of men and women standing before her. The biting wind whipped her tied hair violently around her armor as her piercing eyes swept across the ranks, locking onto the weathered, battle-hardened faces of her army. When she spoke, her voice rang out with the terrifying, metallic clarity of a war horn.
"Fix your eyes on the horizon!" Chinua roared, her voice echoing off the valley walls. "Do not look at the size of their army—look at the space they will occupy when they are buried! Keep your blades sharp and your hearts frozen. Centuries from now, when our bones are dust and our names are old legends, they will sit by the campfires and speak of what we did here today! They will ask how flesh and bone broke iron and stone!"
She ripped her spear from the earth, the heavy iron spearhead catching the final, dying glint of the twilight.
"The enemy claims the fortress ahead of us is an unshakeable myth," Chinua growled, pointing her weapon directly toward the dark throat of the valley. "They say no man can conquer it. Let them keep believing their own tales... right up until our steel is at their throats! If Heaven wants us to fall today, we will make Heaven fight for every single inch of our souls! Draw your steel! For the fallen, and for Hmagol!"
A deafening roar rose from eight thousand throats, the sound of unsheathed steel ringing out like a singular, massive strike of thunder. Chinua turned her horse back toward the pass, digging her heels hard into its flanks. The mount surged forward into a powerful gallop, leading the vanguard down the trail as they followed the final dark kite, which was slowly immersing itself into the arriving night.
Up the treacherous mountain pass, a caravan of women and children made their weary way through the pitch-black night. Some stumbled blindly in the dark, while others carried small pouches of glowing fireflies, using the captured insects as makeshift lanterns to illuminate the rocky path.
As they neared the crest of the hill, a squad of Paayasian soldiers sprinted out from the dark tree line with weapons drawn, quickly circling the frightened group.
"What are you doing here?" the unit leader demanded, pointing his sharp blade directly at the huddling civilians.
"Sir—we are heading to Ngabo," a woman stammered, clutching her young child's hand tightly against her woolen skirts.
"We are from Kark City," another woman chimed in, her voice trembling.
"The Magoli commander told us we were free to leave," a younger woman explained desperately. "We do not want to become subjects of Hmagol, sir. We have family in Ngabo, and we only wish to be reunited with them."
One of the Paayasian soldiers stepped forward, narrowing his eyes at their meager belongings. "What is that you're carrying?"
"Firefly lanterns," the young woman replied, holding up a faint, glowing pouch.
"The Magoli refused to give us anything when we left Kark," another added bitterly. "All they allowed us to keep were walking sticks. It was too dark to navigate the pass, so we caught fireflies and made pouch lanterns to see the trail."
The unit leader stared at the forty shivering refugees before slowly, deliberately sheathing his sword. "Wait here," he commanded. "I will go ask Captain Yongyee if you are cleared to proceed toward Ngabo."
Turning on his heel, the unit leader ran up the trail toward the massive wooden gates of the Mopia fortification. He rushed through the entrance, immediately cutting right toward the largest tent, which sat heavily guarded and hidden away in the furthest corner of the compound. He burst through the canvas flaps.
"Captain," the unit leader breathed out, saluting a middle-aged man who sat at a tactical table surrounded by six other officers.
Yongyee looked up. He didn't speak; he merely raised a sharp, questioning eyebrow. Everyone in the garrison knew Yongyee was a man of few words, choosing to command through silent hand signals and piercing facial expressions rather than spoken orders. The young unit leader understood the silent cue instantly.
"Captain, there is a group of about forty civilians—all women and children from Kark—seeking passage to Ngabo."
Yongyee let out a heavy sigh. He knew that even if he allowed them through his checkpoint, the gates of Ngabo City had already been bolted shut against the tidal wave of fleeing refugees. Worse, a dark suspicion gnawed at his gut. He knew Chinua's army was famous for its lethal, elite female soldiers; these women could easily be vipers wrapped in civilian rags.
"What do they bring with them?" Yongyee asked, his voice low and calculating.
"They carry no weapons, Captain. Nothing but wooden walking sticks," the unit leader replied.
"Ngabo's gates are closed," Yongyee said, his blank gaze sweeping over his officers. "Since they cannot return to Kark, house them in the vacant tents behind the kitchens for tonight. Tomorrow, I will inspect them myself."
"Yes, Captain." The unit leader bowed and turned to leave, but Yongyee's stern voice stopped him in his tracks.
"And ensure they are heavily guarded," Yongyee added sharply. "Right now, there are eyes and ears everywhere, even in the brightest areas." With that, the captain looked back down, losing himself once more in the battle plans with his officers.
The young unit leader walked back out of the fortress and descended the hill to meet the waiting civilians. As he approached, the soft glow of the fireflies caught his eye, and a sudden wave of anxiety hit him. Yongyee would be furious if he saw that light; the Mopia Gate was ordered to remain completely blacked out to prevent aerial or distance detection.
"Release those fireflies immediately before Captain Yongyee refuses you passage," the unit leader ordered sternly. "Per the captain's orders, you will rest here tonight. Ngabo's gates are already closed."
Hurriedly, the women opened their pouches, releasing the captured fireflies into the cold night air. A small, brilliant cloud of glowing gold drifted upward into the sky as the civilians were marched through the dark wooden gates, guided toward the shadow of the kitchens.
High above, floating silently on the wind, Chinua's elite female soldiers were flying completely blind in the pitch black. They couldn't see the ground, but they didn't need to—they had spent months painting a flawless mental map of Mopia Valley in their minds, practicing the exact coordinates and treacherous wind currents thousands of times during their brutal training.
Suddenly, right as they neared the designated drop zone, a faint, localized cloud of light began to shimmer in the suffocating darkness below—the unmistakable glow of dozens of fireflies being released all at once.
It was the signal.
Gripping the bamboo control bars with white-knuckled intensity, the vanguard tilted their weight forward, guiding their massive dark kites into a steep, silent dive straight toward the only light in Mopia Valley.