Usually they would have ridden in on horses, but now wasn't the time for tradition nor camping.
"Qing Shixiong!" One of his shimei called over the wind from his side, she was taking the turn on look out while they flew. Another of his shidi kept a hand on the flat of her sword to keep her in formation while she focused on viewing the world through the eyes of some far away crow. "We're growing very close now, I think I can predict exactly the path they'll take!" She said, eyes flashing back and forth below her eyelids, clutching a talisman to her chest.
"Leave the crows, get us on the path and we'll land." Qing Xiashu ordered, watching her quickly disengage from the surveyal talisman and begin to steer away from their original direction, turning east for a few minutes before beginning to draw towards the ground.
"Qing Shixiong." Another one of his many shidi asked, giving a quick bow before speaking again. "If we draw north a few minutes we will be in the canyon, ambush will be much easier with so much cover."
Qing Xiashu shook his head. "No, they will expect ambush in the mountains and are likely to use shields before signs of an ambush ever appear. We will set ourselves up here, I want people on each side of the valley. Archers are to be in the trees, use charmed arrows only, they will certainly be using protective maneuvers from the start. Talisman experts create a full fog cover, make it look natural, spread it out, run it into the trees and the canyon. Everyone else lay low in the underbrush, you are not to attack until the arrows have slowed to a fifty percent fire rate from where they started, by this point the archers will join you on the ground to assist in flanking. Fall back when they try to retreat, we want them to have the time to send word back to their higher ups and to reconcentrate, but not to escape. We will prepare to launch a night attack when this happens. Understood?"
"Understood!" Rang out quickly.
"Good. Go!"
The disciples scattered like flies, some taking off across the valley, directed in small groups by thirty squad leaders that Qing Xiashu had picked out on their way over. Qing Xiashu stood for a long few moments as he watched the sky.
The weather would be on their side, a natural fog was already rolling down from the mountains, adding a bit more would be no concern to the Southerners. The sky above them threatened to lay more snow to the already blanketed ground, something the Northern disciples wouldn't struggle with in the slightest, but the Southerners likely would.
As dense haze came over the soft valley hills, Qing Xiashu retreated to the trees with many of the other disciples, tying his sleeves up with the long silk strand and settling his quiver on his lower back. Despite wielding Touming primarily left handed, and writing the same way, he'd been trained to shoot right handed, partially for ease of equipment usage, equipment built for right handed shooters. So when he positioned himself in the tree he tipped himself the same way the rest of the archers did. Laying in wait while holding the branch he was crouched on, leaving an arrow nocked but not drawn. He would save the energy for when the Southerner's came into sight.
The sun reached across the sky slowly while they waited, ready to pounce, their small army was buzzing with silent tension, no one dared so much as breathe too heavily when they saw the first lantern appear over one of the many rolling hills.
The white and black of their uniforms blended into the dark snow covered evergreens, at a few hundred meters they were practically invisible.
The South didn't tend to use surveyal talismans, the South didn't need them, their land was flat enough that they could use telescopes without issue. But here such things were useless, the fog was rendering the brigade blind. Talisman specialists were filtering a steady flow of mist and fog into the valley, the open plain filled so densely the only signs of the opposing army were the lanterns they carried.
Qing Xiashu mimicked the call of a bird, one that didn't exist, but to someone unfamiliar with the area, was just as natural as the call of all the other foreign birds. Another of the squad leaders mimicked the call across the valley to ensure the order got around.
Draw arrows.
And wait.
Silence was slowly destroyed by the Southern army as they moved, a bit sluggish and cautious, fearful of the low visibility they were entirely unaccustomed to.
As the first lead passed them, the Northern Head Disciple let out a sharp bird call, one that sounded almost frightened, as if calling its peers to take off in a panicked scatter.
Fire.
The fog was split by hundreds of arrows in a broken second, first aiming around the lantern holders before spreading out in a terrifying rain of bronze. Anyone holding a lantern was left standing so as to not extinguish the light.
Screams echoed, bouncing off the valley walls and creating an even worse disorientating ring, someone yelled ambush, and the entire army dispersed in an instant, trying to find cover from the pelting of arrows while someone else frantically shouted for order but by this point the ground squads were moving in, any hope for regrouping the entire army was lost as two groups tried to split away, archers were vaulting out of trees, swooping in, assisting in pushing the army into smaller groups.
The arrows alone had decimated their numbers, largely thanks to the constant use of multi shots. By now the army had already lost nearly a thousand Southern soldiers, a third sheared clean off by only a hundred quick draw archers. As the archers approached from their targets their grips shifted lower and shot even faster, draws reversing and holding multiple arrows in their bow hands, losing sheer power and distance in exchange for rapid fire speed.
Qing Xiashu tossed his own bow down at the foot of the tree, instead taking up Touming, the sword was practically invisible in this dim visibility, even while it whistled through the air, his left handed fighting style unfortunately didn't throw off Southerners the way it tossed Northerners for a loop. Many of these Southerners were left handed.
With more than six times the soldiers against them, their only hope was to rely on the tactical advantage of being familiar with the terrain and the element of surprise.
Northerners weren't trained to kill humans.
They were trained to hunt Yaoguai, and Qing Xiashu could see the hesitancy in his peer's movements. They were the protectors, the negotiators, trained to merely spar with humans and not draw their blades on them in malice.
It hadn't always been like this, but Xue Feiyi's reign, much like the sudden development of the false tells, was influential on the mindset of disciples.
But Southern disciples are the military, prepared for a war on other cultivators from the start. Trained to dehumanize their enemies from the day they picked up a sword. They held no mercy.
Northern disciples were struck down left and right.
That was fine
Even if they only had fifty disciples left, as long as they could put down another thousand, they would be just fine.
Just fine.
As their fellow disciple's blood was spilled though, there seemed to be a switch flipped in the Northern disciples.
An us or them understanding exploding across the battlefield. Any moral conviction falling to survival instinct and grief fueled rage.
Qing Xiashu did not need this epiphany to be made for him. After all, he wasn't a body guard to defend against yaoguai. He protected his charge from humans.
And on a battlefield covered in blood, he felt few qualms.
The young general at the head of the Southern army was panicking, screaming out conflicting orders as her soldiers were struck down left and right.
Finally Qing Xiashu called off his battalion with a few sharp non-disguised whistles.
The Northern disciples vanished from the field, disappearing into the fog as the Southern soldiers frantically tried to regroup, a few messengers sent out on swords, all but one of which were shot down, an arrow barely missing the woman as if it had been a mistake that she lived. But there were no mistakes. Their devastation was to be relayed to the sect leader and the newly recovered prince.
Qing Xiashu wanted Hong Chunji to personally know how many people were sent to their deaths because of his decisions.
Qing Xiashu wanted Hong Chunji to personally know how many people were sent to their deaths because of his decisions [https://img.wattpad.com/f1b60d32761004cb5c0d54ef04aa08a10750a12d/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f42685176486b335a624d517639773d3d2d313439373032303034352e313830393438666136383832376232343537303837313733363731372e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]
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He would know.
He would know and he would regret it.
But he surely wouldn't stop.
It wasn't in the demigod's character to not finish what he'd started.
"Qing Shixiong." One of the many blood spattered disciples panted as they regrouped, buckled forward with their hands on their knees to support themselves. "Orders?"
"Two squads fly around behind to catch anyone who tries to run, fifteen disciples who aren't injured, go."
Just as he had asked, fifteen disciples in relatively good shape flew off around the edges of the valley, using what was left of the fog to keep cover.
"Anyone who is injured please find someone with medical cultivation training or myself, everyone needs to be in functioning order in an hour, please work quickly." Qing Xiashu said as he moved through their small clearing, getting a good look on what he had left. Two hundred and something disciples left, they've only lost around seventy disciples...
This was good...
If their numbers remained this proportionally decent they would pull this battle off.
Qing Xiashu prepared a crow to take word back to Xue Feiyi of their progress. Using codes to keep things at least a little bit secure.
He didn't expect word back, instead preparing for the night to come, waiting for the Southern army to apprehensively make camp. As expected the guard duty was heavy. But this fit their needs more precisely, the more divided the better. The poor Southern soldiers were going to be torn from their sleep by their own deaths.
Quietly the Northern disciples dispatched each guard at nearly the same time, by combination of arrow and blade, giving no time for anyone to raise the alarm, then they got to work...
Each group was split to take a tent full of Southern soldiers. Each disciple would have to take down around four soldiers...
"Qing Shixiong, we're ready." A Northern disciple quietly told Qing Xiashu. "Everyone is in position."
"Let's clean house." Qing Xiashu told the disciple before throwing a bright sword glare into the air.
Blood spilled across the beds of hundreds of Southern soldiers in a single moment...
Very few of these Southern soldiers survived that instance. So few in fact that those that were left were easily overrun... and with that, they had won the battle in less than a day. Qing Xiashu found himself growing a faint smile over the ease of it.
Yes, he had had to fight hard physically, but he'd won and he'd hardly questioned that he would. The Southerners were wildly ill prepared. And that meant A-Ying may never be fronted with the direct causes of war.
"Let's get home." Qing Xiashu quietly told one of the blood smeared disciples who'd appeared from a tent to his left.
"Of course Shixiong..." The disciple murmured with a quick bow before he wandered away at a relatively relaxed pace, relaying the message around to the other remaining disciples, disciples that were tired and in a significant daze.
Qing Xiashu only waited until the survivors of the battle had convened before he took off on Touming. Channeling qi into the blade rapidly to ensure he was back at the palace before the sun rose.
The air was cold, drying blood almost as quickly as it froze, making a nauseating mess in the tips of his hair. He hardly had the time or mind to care. He wanted to be home and see if Xue Huayu was back, surely she was by this point, especially with the calls to war in the air.
The sun seemed to be breaching the edge of the horizon before them, flickering in a comforting tell that their night of distress was over.
Qing Xiashu let off a relieved little huff as they drew closer, A-Ying would be safe in the morning sunlight. The southerners would realize this wasn't a fight to be taken lightly, everything would be just fine.
Everyone was relieved at the light.
Until they realized their barings...
"Shixiong!" The same disciple who had first spotted the Southern battalion called over the wind, her tone panicked, blood caked into her long hair even as it whipped across her back at the whims of the air current. "Please say that isn't the exact direction of-" She couldn't make herself finish the words.
Their head disciple grimaced at the light that seemed to grow into a more sickly smog the closer they flew. It originated in the far north. It wasn't the sun.
Many stomachs dropped at once.
"I'm afraid I can't say that." Qing Xiashu called back, swallowing hard as he struggled to avoid choking on his words, watching the deep orange grow into a deadly blaze as they closed in on the palace.
The frozen palace's grounds were ablaze, any and all snow had already melted and dried, the fire didn't reach the heavily blanketed mountain woods, but that only kept it from spreading, inside the grounds all wood and trees were raging with flames that reached into the sky and made midnight look like dawn.
Qing Xiashu shuddered as they grew closer, smoke filling the air and coating its scent through their clothes.
"Spread out! Don't bother fighting back! Just find any young disciples and get them into the mountains!" He shouted to the disciples who remained with him. They began diving from the air toward locations little disciples might hide.
The superheated air agitated the head disciple's lungs as he also dove into the palace, searching through the smoke for anyone, anything, alive and familiar. "A-Ying! Hefeng! Gege!" He called as he reached their hall, dark smog threatening his airways as he searched.
Hefeng certainly should have heard her master, she should have heard him and either sounded off or come running. That could only mean she wasn't around. Similarly Hei Xianying would have done the same, hearing nearly as keen as the dog's, so he was satisfied in believing that Hefeng would have taken the girl and run.
He stepped over the bodies of a few of his junior disciples, hardly bothering to check signs of life, there was too much blood and their eyes were too wide and motionless. Slamming open the doors to Xue Feiyi's room he found it empty, ransacked and blood splattered, but absent of a body or signs of life.
Qing Xiashu looked around for a long moment, praying for any clue before freezing while he remembered the moment Xue Feiyi's crimes had been realized by the prince.
Xue Feiyi's eyes had grown so... sympathetic while Hong Chunji raged in fury.
He wouldn't fight back against Hong Chunji.
He would sit and wait for him.
A half folded red paper lotus was left on the desk crumpled.
Flying with Touming through the halls felt horribly wrong somehow. As though he'd be scolded at any moment, yet his anxiety charged him forward.
These flame filled halls felt warm but denoted no comfort, failing to disengage the vicious chill in his bones or unclog the frozen stone in his throat.
A form appeared in the smoke and startled him into freezing in place, shocking Touming into a harsh halt. The person stepped closer and Qing Xiashu squinted, attempting to identify if this was a friend or foe. He stepped from Touming to take the blade up more defensively, so far the only thing he'd come across was the dead, it was doubtful this was a friendly survivor.
"Xiashu..."
"Hong Shaoye." The head disciple bit out with a venomous sneer, ignoring, or perhaps appreciating, how guilt and distaste exploded over the other man's features.
"Please... leave with me quietly..." The prince asked gently, holding a hand out toward him,
Fury ripped outward from Qing Xiashu's agitated core. "Go quietly? Go. Quietly? You want me to go quietly with you into my death for your satisfaction? Will that even bring you satisfaction!? How could any of this bring anyone satisfaction, even when you haven't heard the half of it. The corpses of my friends and students are littering my home and I am supposed to go quietly?"
The soon to be king opened his mouth before shutting it and thinking longer on his next words. "Then tell me." Hong Chunji hadn't moved this entire time and it began to unsettle Qing Xiashu.
His hand was still extended.
The only motion was the soft billowing of ribbons and robes. Those orange ribbons were familiar, they'd always been there. But everything else had changed.
His robes were green with accents of elaborate golden embroidery, nothing at all like the soft sunny tones of simple robes he'd once worn. Golden leaves circled his head. A laurel, playing on his Western features and driving him further from the common population.
The prince didn't look excited like one might have thought... The man looked drained, like all his energy had been ripped away.
For a split moment of insanity, Qing Xiashu found himself taking a concerned step closer before his mind registered the motion and aborted it, moving back again.
"Tell you what-?" The head disciple was no longer so sure of his rage, in fact it melted into something akin to a nervous fright...
"Tell me the half of it that I haven't heard. Because the half I've heard is that your brother murdered my family and now we've taken his." The Prince hissed, finally charging to cross Touming with Jiao Jin. "If you won't leave, so much worse will happen here and you will bear witness!"
Touming protested this. Shaking in Qing Xiashu's hold as if it were complaining in the most vocal way it could against fighting its friend.
The blade's owner understood. His hands also shook as they fought. He didn't want this, he didn't want any of this.
Qing Xiashu blocked each strike in a frightened stupor, unable to formulate his faux tells or even tear his eyes away from the blazing gold that bored its way into his very soul.
The rage in Hong Chunji's eyes caught him off guard, but he should have known full well he had no chance to win.
Not against a demigod.
He wasn't sure what made him think he could even take Hong Chunji in the first place.
Why didn't he just run?
As the demigod beat him back, he had no choice but to continue retreat further and further away from the area he was sure Xue Feiyi would be waiting.
Waiting to die with a patient expression.
Every strike Jiao Jin laid made Qing Xiashu's arms ache. He could be beating on a shrine bell twice his height and the ringing in his bones wouldn't be half of what it was now.
All those spars couldn't have been a quarter of the demigods strength if he could do this.
Qing Xiashu had no choice.
The head disciple produced a single false tell, forcing the prince to block a blow that would never come.
And ran.
He ran as fast as he could, leaping onto Touming to move even faster but losing the protection the blade could provide. Took a looping route back towards the marble meeting hall where he was sure he would find his older brother.
"Gege!" He shrieked as one of his ankles was caught, yanking him to the ground.
Hong Chunji clapped a hand over Qing Xiashu's mouth as he crushed the man into the ground.
"Quiet!" The prince snapped, wincing when the offending hand was bitten into like he was handling some kind of animal. The head disciple went as far to snarl before attempting to scream again.
"Dianxia, what's all this?"
"Shit." Hong Chunji whispered faintly under his voice.
Qing Xiashu's eyes went wide as he focused in on the woman, instantly narrowing again into a glare, spitting curses into the hand still covering his mouth.
With a soft chuckle, Shi Qin simply smiled down at him in a false kindness. "You found the head disciple. Well done." She told Hong Chunji.
The prince clenched his jaw before getting off Qing Xiashu's shoulders and letting a few Southern disciples grab his arms and drag him along into the marble meeting hall.
The entire hall was in shambles, even the stone floor was broken and and spilt, left in sharp tilted slabs.
It was as though an explosion had erupted in the room and destroyed most of the structure. Even part of the roof had collapsed near the back of the hall.
In the center was Xue Feiyi.
Waiting.
Settled on his knees with his head tipped to the ground.
•●•