Prelude to battle
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It was spring: the time of youth, love and friendship. But not for Ji Jiang.
He stood upon the black, high-aptitude cliff and gazed down at the battlefield. It was a mess, utterly chaotic. Pitiful screams of the men whose bodies mutilated by the undergoing slaughter, coupled with the drums of war, caused his blood to ignite.
His eyes shone with a strong desire and he clutched a sword in his hand, his fingers tightly gripped onto the dark-brown leather handle. The rusty bronze armor he wore was smeared with dried, crimson blood, and amidst the rust and blood one could see that the passage of time had taken its toll.
This was his dream, to bring honor to his family and to be filial to the kingdom. He was not afraid of death. He had seen too much of it. The armor he had was taken from a soldier he once befriended. Unfortunately, in Ji Jiang’s first battle, the soldier died. Therefore, the armor was his for the taking
At that point, he understood that wars were not kind, merciful or anything like it. They were dark, bloody and showed no mercy whatsoever. Since then, Ji Jiang had been in the army for months. Now, it was time for his last battle before he could arise to become a hundred-squad leader, and thereon claim the title of a squad leader
From young days, before most of children began to train, he already stood in the plain field of grass outside his father’s farm. With a sword in his hands, he tried to surmount his destiny. He wasn’t happy with being a farmer when he grew up. He wanted to be more. A warrior, the greatest of them all.
*Duuun, duuun!* The drums resonated in his ears and brought him back to reality.
“It’s finally time…” He silently said under his breath and started to walk back into the ranks. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes,“You can do this, Ji Jiang!”
After joining the ranks again, where thousands of foot soldiers marched toward the battlefield as reinforcement, Ji Jiang turned around to see that the man beside him began to cry. He was a bit older than Ji Jiang, but one could see he had never battled before. The man’s eyes displayed it.
“Stop crying.” Ji Jiang told the man. This was no time for regrets, the choice had been made.
The man responded, “I can’t… I will die... please!”
After saying this, the man’s whole body shook and he dropped his sword to the ground only to desperately stumble out of the ranks, trying to reach for the forest to the left.
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But before he could reach and even touch the boundary of the forest his head was sent rolling. Blood sprayed like a fountain from the now limp body that landed on the ground with a thud followed by a lighter thud from the head. Soon, a puddle of blood formed and colored the ground red.
A loud, stern voice that was harder than steel bellowed in the air, “Don’t make me kill my own kin.”
Ji Jiang located the voice, it was one of the commanders who usually rode at the front, a middle-aged man with snow-white that hung down to his shoulders and a long, together-voven beard.
After the commander's display, awe spread among the soldiers present, and gasps could be heard everywhere. But instead of showing absolute wonder and awe in front of the display, Ji Jiang only snorted.
For him, that was akin to child's play. If it wasn’t for the kingdom’s strict rules that one had to participate in the army as a mere foot soldier for six months, he would already have begun to advance in ranks.
"Too forced, too forced indeed!"
Ji Jiang was different. He had no definite sword style, he was free from those shackles that bound others. His style was that of adaption to the circumstance.
He could be like a deadly tempest that tried to overpower his enemies with speed and strength, or a strong, golden mountain that had no openings, an impregnable defense.
But also like that of a calm pond or predator lying hidden to wait for its prey, slowly trapping it within without giving it the slightest idea of its new fate as food.
When he stood upon that field of grass, he was unfettered by everything. It was only the sword and him, nothing else. There, he followed his heart, danced with the sword as an extension of his arm.
“Halt!”
The general of the army, the leader of the hundred-thousand men, ten commanders, hundred platoon leaders and thousand squad leaders, who sat in a blood bay, a bright red horse, put up his hand.
Ji Jiang braced himself, this was it. Now was the time. Either he’ll succeed, or die trying.
“Charge!” The general roared, brought up his sword and urged his blood bay to advance.
Following him, the soldiers yelled in unison, “May the king live for a thousand years, his lands prosper for ten thousand, and his kingdom blossom for eternity!"
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