ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 2 - 𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔯𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔜𝔞𝔫𝔤 ℭ𝔩𝔞𝔫

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"Constructed a century ago on orders of Emperor Zhao Li, the Grand Forts are a series of fortifications constructed along the border of the Golden Realm with the Kingdom of Svargen. Trapezoid-shaped and with thick stone walls that are eleven meters high, the Forts provide formidable protection. Over 100,000 troops are garrisoned in the Forts and are under the command of the General of the Forts."

- Imperial Records of the Golden Realm, Volume I by Chief-Scholar Dai Yijun

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"Long live the Emperor!" a hundred voices shouted in unison. "May he reign ten thousand years!"

The court officials all kowtowed before the Emperor. The throne room, decorated in rich red and gold, was spacious and could accommodate tens of courtiers. At the center of this vast throne room was a raised dais and on the raised dais was a huge golden throne and smaller silver throne. Emperor Zhao Qi was sitting comfortably upon the golden throne. Standing to his left and right were eunuchs. Sitting beside the ruler, on the silver throne, was Chancellor Cao Sui.

"General Li, step forward!" the Emperor ordered.

The General, a middle-aged bearded man dressed in a long black silk robe, stood up, approached the dais, and bowed deeply before his sovereign.

With a motion of his hand, the Emperor ordered a eunuch to step forward and read an Imperial Decree.

“His Imperial Majesty,” the eunuch read with his high-pitched voice, “decrees thus; Minister Feng is guilty of obstruction of justice. He has threatened witnesses and attempted to cover up a murder and manipulate the Imperial Court. Minister Feng and his entire clan are sentenced to death!”

The words fell like a hammer on the courtiers, who were visibly stunned. Feng, who had been standing alongside his fellow officials, rushed before the dials. He fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face. “Your Imperial Majesty!” he pleaded. “I am innocent. I would never do anything like that! Your Imperial Majesty knows this! Your Imp-“

Two soldiers grabbed Feng’s arms and dragged him kicking and screaming outside of the Court.

“You may continue,” Chancellor Sui softly said to the eunuch.

“The General of the Forts Yang Wanli has collaborated with Minister Feng to obstruct justice and manipulate the Imperial Court. He and his clan are sentenced to death for their treason against the Throne! Loyal General Li is to oversee the eradication of the Feng and Yang clans.”

Low murmurs filled the room. No one could believe that the Emperor had branded the most loyal and heroic general of the Realm a traitor. Yet not even one person dared to talk back and question the decree.

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Chilling coldness reigned in the Grand Forts. The wind howled. Thick snow swallowed the world in white. Yang Wanli was in his tent, in a military camp near one of the many imposing forts. He was wearing a lamellar armor, made from small rectangular plates of iron laced into horizontal rows, and a steel helmet.

Wanli was surrounded by two of his sons, who were lieutenants, and another officer. He leaned over a map on the wooden table in the center of the room. He pointed with his thick, calloused hand at a representation of the Iron Mountains. “I’ll be sending a detachment of fifty light cavalry scouts here to check if the rumors of an impending Dwarf invasion are true.” Wanli stepped away from the table and looked at his eldest son, Yazhu, a hardened, well-muscled man. “You will be leading the scouts. You are to leave at noon.”

“Yes, General!” Yazhu nodded, his face completely emotionless. “Heavens willing, I shall be back in five days’ time.”

“Good. Dismissed!”

The officers bowed slightly before the General and made their way out of the tent, leaving Wanli alone in his thoughts.

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It was almost noon, and the sky was already bright. Yet snow was still drifting down and the cold was as chilling and bitter as ever. Wanli was in his tent, planning his next moves. Yazhu had already left the camp with his scouts. While waiting for his son to come back with a report on what was going at the borders, the General was already preparing for the worst scenario and plotting the movements of his troops.

"Sir!" a servant shouted as he rushed into the tent. "A decree from the Imperial Court!"

"Read it."

"His Imperial Majesty decrees thus; the General of the Forts Yang Wanli has collaborated with Minister Feng to obstruct justice and manipulate the Imperial Court. His Imperial Majesty, being magnanimous and having great respect for the Yang Clan, is willing to spare the General of the dishonor of execution and is also willing to spare the lives of his family if he takes his own life. If the General does not heed his Imperial Majesty’s command, then his entire clan is to be exterminated alongside him."

The servant was shaking his head in disbelief at what he had just read. That Imperial Decree had been sent north days ago by Chancellor Sui, long before Wanli’s sentence had been officially announced in the Throne Room back in the capital. It was a forged document, giving Wanli the false hope that his family could be spared, but neither the servant nor the general could know that.

Wanli was stunned; he froze like a statue. He had to consider all his options. ‘I cannot rebel against my sovereign,’ he thought, ‘for that would be utmost treason and confirm those malignant rumors. Even if his Imperial Majesty has wronged me, I cannot bring myself to become a traitor.’ He sighed. ‘I also cannot run away. If I do, then my clan – everyone I love and hold dear to my heart – will be exterminated and its memory shall be damned forever. There is but one option left…”

Wanli took off his helmet and unsheathed his sword. Then, with a swift move, he turned his blade into his neck.

"General!" the servant barked. He charged forward, trying to save his master, but it was too late. The great commander lay dead on the ground, his blood flowing from his wound and painting the snowy ground red. The sobering cry of the servant could be heard all over the camp. "Master! Why did you have to kill yourself?! Why?!"

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The rhythmic padding of hoofbeats could be heard from miles away as the imperial scouts galloped eagerly forward, with Yazhu leading the way. The young lieutenant suddenly noticed a group of horsemen riding towards his scouting party. They were wearing the bright red lamellar uniform worn by the soldiers of the Golden Realm and were armed with bows.

The horsemen swooped down and encircled them. Yazhu was at a loss of words, unable to give any kind of orders to his men. “What are you doing here?” he finally asked. “I wasn’t informed of any reinforcements coming our way.”

Instead of replying, the horsemen fired their arrows at the encircled scouts. Surprised by their comrades turning on them, most of the scouts failed to react. They cried out in anguish as the arrows penetrated their bodies. Their horses reared, screaming. Other arrows went into them and they fell, sending their riders tumbling. It was chaos

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

One of those arrows grazed Yazhu’s skull. Blood ran down his face, but he remained calm. He gritted his teeth and unsheathed his blade. He roared and charged forward, cutting the horsemen down like scything down a wheat field at harvest. An arrow suddenly struck him in the center of the forehead, causing Yazhu to fall from his horse and slam into the ground. It was over for the lieutenant and his scouting party.

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More than a hundred swordsmen and archers had gathered outside the Yang Manor. They were commanded by General Li. The entrance gate of the manor was painted vermilion and had copper door knockers on it. A pair of stone lions were placed outside the gate. A soldier knocked on the door and one of the manor's servants rushed to open the gates. Before the servant could question the soldier, he had already drawn his sword and cut down the man.

"Charge!" General Li barked as his men flooded the manor. The soldiers cut down servants and Yang family members. Some of them tried to flee, but the soldiers fired tens of arrows at them. They collapsed on the ground as the arrows pierced them, blood flowing from their wounds.

Yang Chao, the elder son in the Manor, managed to grab a spear and tried to fight back. Enemy soldiers were coming from all around him. Chao struck his spear into the abdomen of one of the soldiers. He struck another so hard that he fell backward and spat a mouthful of blood before tilting his head to the ground and choking his last breath. His spear then penetrated the chest of another soldier, the lance coming out on the other side.

Chao fought them until his spear was broken. Even then he kept fighting like a berserk Dwarf. He would punch and kick to death the soldiers, gouge out their eyes, crush their skulls on the ground, even bite them. Seeing how ferocious he was, the soldiers retreated and aimed their bows at him. A hail of arrows rained down on Chao, piercing his entire body. Blood flowed down like a river from his body, and Chao fell to his knees. He noticed on the ground a sword. Gritting his teeth, he grabbed it and used it to stand up. If he was going to die, he would die on his feet. He would die as a proud warrior of the Yang Clan. “For the Yang Clan!” was his dying roar.

The soldiers all stood in awe before Chao's bloody body, standing still and surrounded by tens of bodies of his slain opponents. Some of them were gaping while others crying.

Only the gleeful General Li was laughing. "So much for Yang family's reputation... In one day they have all been exterminated. Burn down the Manor! Erase the Yang Clan!"

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"Come here!"

Jing had been playing with wooden toy soldiers when he heard the voice of Uncle Luo. He was an old man in his seventies with long white hair and beard and two scars on his face. He was dressed in a brown leather gown and wore a conical hat. Luo had served the Yang family loyally for decades.

"We must leave at once! Soldiers are on their way here." He grabbed the child by the hand and sprinted forward. As they were about to exit the main hall and walk into the courtyard, suddenly three soldiers appeared and blocked the exit. "Stay behind," he said to Jing.

He unsheathed a small knife and charged. He somersaulted, landed behind a soldier, and slit his throat with his knife. The other two soldiers tried to stab him but he leaped backward, dodging the enemy blades. Luo then jumped forward and fell upon a soldier. He threw him on the ground and with a swift strike stabbed his forehead. The last surviving soldier let out a battle cry and swung his sword at Luo, but he parried the strike with his bloodied knife. The soldier struck again, slashing Luo’s chest. Seeing that the old man was bleeding, the soldier prepared for the final strike. "Die!" he shouted as he attacked; this time though, Luo dodged the blade and with a swift back kick sent the soldier flying into a wall.

Luo grabbed at his chest and the blood gushing from it. He tore off a long piece of his gown and wrapped his chest up tightly, using it as a bandage to apply pressure to stop the bleeding.

“What is happening?” Jing asked, tears welling up in his eyes. “Is my mother safe? My brothers?”

“There is no time to explain!” Luo shouted. “We have to leave, young Master. Now!”

“I cannot leave my family behind like a coward! I know how to wield the sword. Let me defend my family!”

Luo slapped the boy hard across his face. “You don’t listen to me! If you stay here, you will die! If you escape, you will live to fight another day and hopefully avenge your family. Do you understand?”

Jing, still dazed by the slap, nodded.

Luo once again grabbed the boy’s hand and ran into the courtyard. With plants, rocks, and flowers, the courtyard was like a garden. It was a place that normally offered peace to the family members, yet now it was full of corpses. The fragrance of the flowers and the stench of the dead bodies; the red petals of the flowers and the red pool of blood; the beauty of life and the ugliness of death; the past idyllic life and the wrenched present.

Jing swallowed hard, willing his eyes to remain dry, but they did not. He felt as if he had been stabbed in the heart by a knife. His eyes became glazed with a glassy layer of tears. As he blinked, they dripped from his eyelids and slid down his cheeks. The memories he had of his family were sharp and cut right through him. Even the good moments had turned into a knife, piercing his soul.

“You will have time to mourn later,” Luo whispered.

A wall was all that separated Luo and Jing from safety. Luo closed his eyes and allowed himself to mentally touch upon the Qi all around him. He gathered all his internal energy onto his legs and, holding the child in his hands, jumped high, passing over the wall and landing on the other side.

As he landed, he coughed and vomited blood.

"Uncle!" Jing cried out.

"It's... it's all right. I... I... am just...tired..." Luo panted. "I have friends at Jinshui village. We will be safe there."

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Jinshui village was a small settlement located to the southeast of the Heavenly City, only four days of walk away. It had a population of less than a hundred people and barely anyone but the locals knew of it. The two companions arrived there – exhausted from days of nonstop walking and nights of rough sleeping on dirt roads and grass – and asked the locals about the whereabouts of Hang, Luo's friend.

They were directed to a hut on the outskirts of the village, in a bamboo forest. The hut crouched in the shadows like a sleeping bear. It had wooden walls with a small opening at the front.

"Who is Hang?" Jing asked when they reached the hut.

"A friend of mine," Luo replied. "He used to serve your parents but he left because he desired a life of peace and solitude."

Luo knocked on the door. An elderly, skinny man walked out of the hut. He had long white hair and looked frail and weak. He was wearing a silk green robe that had become singed. "Luo, my old friend!" he loudly exclaimed as he opened his arms. "Long time no see!"

The two friends embraced for a brief moment. "Good to see you again, my old friend."

"Who is this child?" Hang wondered, pointing at Jing.

Luo sighed. "He is Yang Jing, the youngest son of General Yang Wanli."

Hang bowed slightly before Jing. "Greetings, Young Master."

Jing too bowed before his elder. "Greetings, Elder Hang."

Hang laughed. "This boy is already such a fine gentleman. So, what brings you here to this isolated corner of the world? I don’t suppose you are here for old times’ shake."

Luo looked at Jing and said, "Get inside." Jing nodded and walked inside the hut. Then Luo spoke. "The General...he is dead."

"What?! How?"

"That treacherous bastard the Emperor, he betrayed us. He branded the General a traitor and sent his army to exterminate the Yang Clan. More than a hundred souls, all dead. On our way here, I've learned that the General was tricked into killing himself. Supposedly, the Emperor would spare his family's lives, but he reneged on his oath."

"That vile bastard!" Hang clenched his fists. "The Yang family had been serving faithfully the Emperors of the Zhao Dynasty for decades. Yet, this ingrate forgot all that and killed them off in the most horrid way. Ah! What an end to such a glorious clan! One day you are mighty and hero to all, and the other you are reduced to nothingness and branded a traitor. Alas, that's the way of the Imperial Court!"

"There is still hope..."

Hang sneered. "You talk of the boy? What can one man do against a whole empire?"

"He can learn the way of the sword and become a powerful warrior. He’s already mastered the basics."

"Who is going to teach him? We are both too old to train him; not to say our skills are mediocre at best…"

"The Grandmaster of the Order of Heaven is a friend of mine. Once Jing is old enough, I can send him there to master the art of the sword and cultivate his internal energy."

"Mmm... I truly hope that he will manage to avenge the General. I am also willing to allow him to stay here until he is old enough to go to the Order of Heaven."

Luo bowed slightly. "Thank you, my old friend."

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The next day, Luo and Hang crafted memorial tablets for Jing's parents, brothers, and other relatives. It took them almost the whole day. They then called Jing to come, bow and kowtow before the tablets.

"Young Master Jing, those are the memorial tablets of your ancestors," Luo said. "I want you to take an oath before them."

Jing nodded.

"You shall avenge the Yang clan or die trying. If you fail to seek justice for your clan, may a thousand arrows pierce your heart!"

Jing repeated the oath. "I, Yang Jing, give an oath to avenge the Yang Clan or die trying. If I fail to seek justice for my clan, may a thousand arrows pierce my heart."

Luo and Hang both smiled. "Maybe," Hang said, "there is still hope for the Yang family..."