Flames and smoke dominated the air. The putrid stench of decaying bodies lingered. These bodies were in the process of being picked clean by predators. Some were able to escape their conquerors’ clutches. Others were not so fortunate. Those in charge of protecting these people had been routed from the field of battle, powerless to end the slaughter. Zhencheng’s capital of Sapphire City had fallen to the rapacious legions of the Yingqu emperor Jia Wen’s army. 

The black and gold clad legions of Jia Wen’s army struck with the ferocity of lightning, reaching the gates of Sapphire City within a short time. Zhencheng petitioned King Yu Yi of Beinan for reinforcements, but the Zhenchengese were on their own until the King’s men arrived. In the  meantime, the colonists of Zhencheng made life difficult for their occupiers whenever possible.

Several days after the conquest of Sapphire City, Jia Wen held a victory parade in the city center. Jia Wen, riding at the head of a procession, rode tall in his saddle. His icy glare was distinct. There was a scar that ran across the emperor’s right cheek, making his face even more distinguishable. The emperor was dressed in an elaborate set of black and gold lamellar armour. Those imposing golden horns on Jia Wen’s helmet shone in the bright sun. Jia Wen was a young man of twenty-seven, but he commanded the fear of his equals. In fact, Jia Wen rode with the head of a fallen Zhenchengese general hanging on his saddle during this parade. The decapitated head had shown obvious signs of decay. The face of the Zhenchengese general was scarred beyond recognition. 

Next to the emperor was the general Wa Ming, architect of the invasion of Zhencheng. He rode in a similarly ornate set of lamellar armor. However, there were no horns on Wa Ming’s helmet. Wa Ming rode with the head of another dead Zhenchengese general on his saddle. The same signs of decay were visible. This time, the eyes of the general had been gouged out. 

Hardly a Zhenchengese soul was left in Sapphire City once the Yingqus had captured it, making the emperor’s victory parade more of a formality than a celebration. Yingqu infantry and cavalry created a thunderous boom in the city center. A cacophony of weapons and armor clanging added to the noise of the parade. 

Jia Wen squinted at a figure off in the distance. The figure was dressed in a set of silk crimson robes. It was a man. The upper portion of the man’s face was obscured by his hood. Jia Wen gasped and raised his eyebrows. In an instant, he turned his horse around and galloped away. With a puzzled look on his face, Wa Ming looked around. The man in crimson robes charged at the head of the procession while muttering under his breath. Yingqu cavalrymen behind Wa Ming rode to the aid of their general. The hooded man exhaled and fire rushed from his mouth. 

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The flames engulfed two Yingqu cavalrymen and their horses. Both the horses and their riders screamed in agony as they were burned alive in their armor. The remains of the cavalrymen and their horses were now blackened. Another hooded man descended onto the cobblestone street. Yingqu infantry pounced on him. He whispered an incantation to himself and made a squeezing motion with his fist. A handful of charging Yingqu infantry were stopped in their tracks as they wriggled and struggled for breath. The hooded man released his grip and the soldiers fell dead. He whispered another incantation to himself and made a swiping motion with his index finger. Another cluster of Yingqu infantrymen were cleanly sliced in half. These soldiers’ armor crashed to the ground. The two mysterious men cut down many times their number without breaking a sweat. A Yingqu soldier placed himself behind the first of the strange men and swung his sword. The hooded man turned around and dodged his blow. Then, he kicked the soldier. The soldier groaned and staggered backward, holding his stomach. 

The mass of Yingqu soldiers that stood between the two men were reduced to a confused and terrified mob. They scattered as the two strange men stood stoic. The second of the two men watched the Yingqu run away with a scowl on his face. His partner approached him and placed his hand over his friend’s shoulder. 

“We let the Jia Wen slip through our fingers,” the second man said, staring ahead.

“We struck fear into the hearts of the invaders and robbed them of their will. Jia Wen’s hubris was very nearly his undoing,” said the first of the men.

“Yes, Grand Master.”

“Remember, Jia Wen will present many opportunities for us to strike.”

The younger man looked at the Grand Master and nodded. 

These two men were warrior monks who belonged to the Crimson Brotherhood, an order of wizards whose primary loyalty was to the settler population of Zhencheng. Their Grand Master was Yin Lang, the youngest man to be in that capacity. During the Yingqu advance toward Sapphire City, Yin Lang and his monks caused so much pain for the invaders that they were dubbed the “crimson dragons.” There was also a large bounty placed on Yin Lang’s head. 

What inspired hatred and fear from their enemies was their unconventional methods of war. The Crimson Brotherhood did not fight pitched battles against their enemies, but used their wizardry to strike their enemies whenever they least expected it. Their way of war was tried and tested in many conflicts against Zhencheng’s natives, who hated the monks. The Beinanese settler population of Zhencheng viewed the monks of the order as demigods. Both in Beinan and Zhencheng, the exploits of the order were followed with praise. The war against Yingqu was the Crimson Brotherhood’s chance to forever cement themselves in the annals of history.