The battle continued until the sun sat low in the skyline. By the end of it, the battlefield stank of iron and blood. Crippled bodies and corpses were strewn in heaps on the red-soaked dirt. Flags of Huo flapped in the wind, while the flags of Ki lay broken on the ground.

Xue Li staked her spear in the ground and watched the scene silently. Soldiers sullenly picked up their brothers-in-arms and placed them on stretchers. Bones stuck out from wounds, eyes were gouged out, red gashes were along their bodies—the injuries were a constant reminder to Xue Li that this was war, and that this was her domain.

Her hair came undone and brushed against the side of her face. She distractedly pushed it away before slowly tying it together. Her tan face was no doubt streaked with the blood of her enemies. If someone saw her right now, they would be shocked at the way she carried herself. She was a general, through and through, and it didn’t matter that she was a woman.

She shifted on her feet when she spotted her second in command, Jinhai, coming towards her. His typical scowl was plastered on his handsome face; his brows were pulled together into a furrow beneath his black and red encrusted helmet. He stopped a few feet away from her, his dark brown eyes flitting from her to the outcome of the battlefield. His armor was dented in a few places, but he seemed otherwise fine.

“General Jin,” he greeted with a stiff nod.

While most people had to tip their heads back when they spoke to Jinhai, Xue Li didn’t have to, since he was only a few inches taller than her. “Jinhai,” she said in an inappropriately cheerful tone. “I didn’t see you much out there, but I’m glad to see you’re alright.” She cracked her knuckles distractedly before glancing at the remnants of the battle. A few Ki soldiers were being chained up as prisoners. “What’s the situation?”

He watched her from the corner of his eye. “Did you find him?”

“I asked you about the situation.”

He straightened his shoulders. “Kong Wen Ming has confirmed that we’ve captured the city.”

“Splendid.” She wrapped her fingers around her spear, her blood roaring with a desire to satiate her hunger. She wasn’t done yet. She needed him. Her blade was heavy with the blood of all those she’d slain, but it wasn’t enough. “I didn’t get him.”

“I know.”

“Where is he?”

He sighed. “Duan He Ping has fled.”

She clenched the spear tightly, her teeth grinding together. On one hand, she should’ve been happy her sworn enemy hadn’t been killed in the battlefield, since it should be her hands to finish him. But on the other hand, she had been so close to catching him, only to have him slip from her fingers. She cursed loudly and the spear splintered before cracking. The top half of the spear shattered to the ground, while the other half slipped from her hand, falling into pieces. Xue Li distractedly dusted the splinters of wood from her hand.

Control yourself, she told herself.

She breathed out deeply. She’d get him next time, that was all. There was no need to get too excited.

Jinhai’s expression was slated to indifference, but she didn’t miss the subtle displeasure flicking in his eyes. He hated how she didn’t act like a woman, and he hated how she outranked him, even though he was a famed warrior, came from a noble bloodline, and was a man. She’d have to live with his scrutiny so long as she remained on the battlefield, since he was her lieutenant general.

“How is Wen Ming?” she asked, forcing an air of nonchalance around herself, though she wasn’t fooling him.

“Slight injuries, but nothing severe.”

“Is she resting?”

“She’s on her way back to you.”

“And you?”

He looked at her as if she asked something stupid, but answered nonetheless. “I’m fine, General.”

General. Never Xue Li. The corner of her mouth rose, despite the fire raging in the pit of her stomach and stemming to her chest, where her icy heart rested. “You’re as formal as ever, Jinhai.”

He stood straight, his hands clasped behind his back. “General, we’ve secured the city. Is there anything you wish from me?”

“Any good prisoners?” She turned to look at the prisoners chained together in their designated spot. They were watched over by dozens of soldiers, all of whom looked ready to kill them, if only they were given her permission.

“No one important.”

“Not even one?”

He shook his head.

She sighed. “How utterly useless.”

“Indeed.”

“Well, have them killed, then.” Unlike Ki, who took Huo prisoners and tortured and enslaved them, Huo was unable to do the same due to its laws on slavery. During the Drakkon dynasty, with the abolishment of slavery, it was forbidden to take slaves, and thus the act of taking prisoners of war was useless and wasted resources. “Nothing brutal,” she added as an afterthought. “We don’t have time for that.”

“Should they be buried or burned?”

“Burn them.”

“Should we spike their heads?”

“No, we’ve already taken the city.”

“If I’d be so crude to interject—” he said, though she knew he would offer his input regardless if he thought it was rude or not. “We should do it in case someone within the city has its doubts about consorting with Ki.”

“As an example?” She mulled that over before shaking her head. “No, the fact that we won should drive fear into their hearts. We’ve beaten them completely, to the point that their famed warrior ran with his tail between his damned legs.” Xue Li laughed.

The sun was waning in the skyline, casting a golden and reddish glow upon the horrendously painted piles of corpses—mostly Ki. It was beautiful, but tragic at the same time. She breathed out deeply, calming herself. “We’ve already driven fear into their hearts by our victory; that speaks for itself.”

Jinhai nodded. “As you wish, General Jin.”

“What about our casualty numbers?”

“Low.”

“What’s the exact number?”

“The specifics on how many we’ve lost is still being conducted.”

“Good.” She rubbed her forehead. Her muscles were still itching to be used, for her body to lithely weave through the field and cut down any Ki soldier that stood in her way. Her blood roared for another battle, another chance to engage herself completely. But she quelled the adrenaline pumping through her. She breathed out deeply. She didn’t allow the hatred in her chest to bubble over and froth beneath her skin, to cause black and blue to color her. She instead plastered a smile on her face and shook her head. “We’ve won the damn battle. Doesn’t this mean we can start drinking?”

“If you wish, General.”

“Come on, lighten up.” Xue Li slapped his shoulder. “This damned campaign is over, isn’t it?”

Jinhai pressed his lips together in a firm line. He was exactly as he was the first time she met him four years ago—posh, polite, and painfully obvious of his dislike towards her. “This particular battle is over, but we still have work to do.”

“Work?” Xue Li laughed. “What kind of work? We’ve done our work.” She waved at the battlefield. “Speaking of—you nabbed the head of that one official, right? What’s his name? Something Kuan? Shuan? Bah—whatever. Good job.”

“You killed him, not me.”

“Huh? Really?” She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. She hadn’t even realized she had killed one of their important figures. “Is that what stopped the battle? I thought it was because you killed the lieutenant general of their army.”

“I did, but so did you.”

“I did?”

“Yes, General.”

She vaguely remembered stabbing a man that was dressed differently—more aristocratically with his helmet—but she had assumed he was a captain, not a lieutenant general. “Ah, I have a vague recollection of such a thing.” She shrugged; it wasn’t important, considering he wasn’t Duan He Ping. “Well, you killing the second one is what made us win, ultimately. Too bad that bastard He Ping ran off before I could kill him.” Bitterness filled her mouth at those words. “Good job.”

Jinhai’s arrogance reared its head and he gave her a simple look as if to say, of course. He straightened and stared straight ahead at the bodies, which were being picked apart by other soldiers.