The trees pressed close like silent sentinels, their branches forming a canopy that swallowed the light. The damp earth muffled every footstep. Birds had long gone quiet.
Ren moved like a shadow at the head of the Gu Ren Tai, eyes narrowed, reading the terrain with every step. Beside him, Kai kept pace, watching their flanks. Behind them, their men advanced in tight formation, blades drawn, breath held.
They were deep in the eastern lowlands, the terrain thick with undergrowth and fog. The Wei camp, according to scouts, was somewhere ahead — lightly fortified but dense with men.
Too quiet.
Ren raised a hand. The unit stopped.
Kai leaned in. "Feels off."
Ren nodded. "They're waiting. Not just guarding. Setting something."
He crouched near a tree and pressed his hand to the soil. Recently disturbed. Someone had passed — not long ago.
"We're being funneled," Ren muttered.
He shifted his men slightly, steering them off the narrow trail and into a sloping ridge beside it. Within moments, the trap was sprung — arrows rained down onto the path they would've walked.
Wei soldiers emerged from the brush, expecting panic. They found a wall instead — Ren's formation braced on higher ground, spears out, shields ready.
"Hold the line!" Kai shouted, blocking a strike and countering with a clean slash.
Ren didn't speak much. He moved like a windshift — dodging under blades, cutting through gaps in the enemy formation. His instincts carried him forward even as the battlefield twisted.
A second wave came — heavier, more coordinated. And at its center, the Zhao commander emerged: a hulking man clad in dark armor, wielding a brutal axe nearly as tall as he was.
"You're the rat that's been sniffing around," the commander barked. "Let's end this quick."
Ren stepped forward alone, sword in hand. The two locked eyes as the battle raged around them.
Their blades met — steel against steel. The commander's brute strength forced Ren back, gouging the ground with each swing. But Ren didn't resist it head-on. He flowed around the attacks, reading patterns, watching how the man shifted his weight.
A cut grazed Ren's shoulder. The commander grinned. "You're fast, but not strong enough."
Ren exhaled slowly.
"Wrong."
He pivoted inside the man's next swing, slamming the hilt of his sword into the commander's jaw, then drove his blade upward through the gap in the man's side armor — a weak point he'd seen mid-fight, not through analysis, but instinct.
The Zhao commander collapsed with a grunt. Ren stood over him, blood trailing from his arm but gaze steady.
Around them, the Zhao formation broke. With their commander down and Ren's men pushing forward, panic spread.
"Don't let them regroup!" Kai shouted. The Gu Ren Tai surged as one.
Within minutes, the battle was over. The forest was quiet again — not with ambush, but with victory.
Ren stood amidst it, breathing hard. The men looked to him. Kai stepped forward.
"You okay?"
Ren nodded. "He was strong. But… he wasn't listening to the field."
Kai gave a quiet laugh. "You did. Like always."
From the treetops, a hawk cried. A messenger bird — one of Ouki's. The next phase would come soon.
But for now, the Gu Ren Tai had claimed its first commander.