The Khitan envoy fell nearby, and Peng closed the mechanical box in her sleeve. This wasn't the bloodiest batt…
The Khitan envoy fell nearby, and Peng closed the mechanical box in her sleeve.
This wasn't the bloodiest battle she had faced, but it was the quietest and most critical. If this register fell into the hands of the Khitan, it would mean disaster for Mohist Hill and the Dragonbend Academy.
There were too many things she didn't care about: not how long her wounded body would last, nor whether the bonds of her sect would endure. But when she reclaimed the register, she stopped.
By the morning light, she opened it. The ink trace was a mix of old and new, some strokes neat and others messy. Some names she knew; others she saw for the first time.
Each name was only an inch long, yet behind them lay the weight of a lifetime and the future of the world.
She closed the register and tucked it into her robes. Somewhere in her heart, she felt sturdier than before. For the sake of the Great Unity, there was no room for a moment of weakness or a single mistake.
The pain of the wound suddenly grew dull.