The Battlefield Countdown

One minute.

Layla's breath was steady, her mind running through every moving piece of the battlefield like a grand game board. Her soldiers moved swiftly between the trees and cliffs, darting in and out of view. From the north, archers rained hell upon the Serpent Sect's front lines, forcing them to hesitate. From the east, traps hidden beneath the underbrush activated, spikes impaling unsuspecting warriors.

Everything was proceeding as she had predicted.

Two minutes.

In the sect's ranks, murmurs turned to confident cheers.

"Look at them scatter!" One warrior laughed as he drove his blade into a fallen enemy. "Like headless chickens in a storm!"

"And to think they thought they'd outlast us!" Another scoffed, twisting his spear free from a writhing foe. "Meilin planned for everything. We could be drinking by sunrise!"

"Someone get Shen Mu a map," a younger disciple jeered, loosing an arrow into the chaos. "He looks lost."

To them, the battle was unfolding precisely as Meilin had orchestrated. They could win this.

And then—

The enemy forces had started to panic, their tight formations disrupted by the guerrilla tactics. Her cultivators struck hard and retreated, never staying long enough for retaliation. Shen Mu was gathering his bearings, standing amidst the chaos like an unmovable pillar. He had underestimated her—expected a war of attrition, not a slaughter in the shadows.

Layla's fingers curled around the hilt of her blade. He's starting to realize.

Three minutes has passed.

I have two minutes left before we win this war. This is easier than-

A pulse of raw energy surged through the battlefield, sending chills down Layla's spine. What?

She turned her gaze toward Shen Mu, and what she saw made her stomach twist.

The air around him wavered like a mirage, his Qi condensing into an almost physical force. The ground cracked beneath his feet as he let out a deep, guttural roar. His body twisted unnaturally, his arms flexing as veins bulged across his skin. A sickly crimson aura bled from his body, like steam rising from fresh blood.

Then he moved.

Like a beast unchained, he tore through the battlefield, his fists crashing into the earth with enough force to shatter stone. This is not normal qi usage. This was something else—a martial art so brutal and unrefined that it seemed almost self-destructive.

Layla's breath hitched as she saw him tear through her forces, his fists pulverizing soldiers, his kicks sending bodies flying into trees. He was not just fighting—he was consuming everything in his path with sheer force.

For the first time in a long, long time—

She felt fear.

Shen Mu's eyes locked onto her.

Then, he leaped. Straight towards her tower.

A powerful strike sent the entire structure crumbling, debris crashing down around her. Layla braced herself, but before the full weight of the collapse could crush her, a figure slammed into her, pushing her clear of the falling wreckage.

Bao.

His body shielded her, his breath ragged. Layla stared in disbelief, but before she could even react—

Shen Mu was there.

A blur of motion—

A sickening crack—

Bao's body hurled across the battlefield, slamming into a shattered pillar with a sickening crunch. Agony exploded through his ribs as he felt something crack—his breath came in ragged, shallow gasps. His left arm hung uselessly at his side, his shoulder dislocated from the impact. Blood trickled from his forehead, blurring his vision, yet he forced himself to move, even as his body screamed in protest. Every inhale was a stab of fire in his lungs, every twitch of his muscles sent searing pain through his nerves. Yet, even through the haze of suffering, his eyes sought Meilin—was she safe?

Layla's vision locked onto Bao. A sickening coldness spread through her limbs as she screamed his name. She barely registered what was gonna happen next as she tried to move, her instincts screaming at her to dodge. But before she could react, before even another sweat of hers drop

A foot collided with her stomach.

The force of Shen Mu's kick sent her flying, her ribs fracturing on impact. A grotesque crunch echoed in her ears as her back slammed against the ruins of her tower. Pain flared through every nerve, stealing the air from her lungs. Her mouth opened, but no sound came. She gasped—once, twice—before finally coughing, red mist spraying from her lips. Her inner qi was scrambling to keep her alive. She could feel her body energy no longer being stable.

Her arms trembled as she tried to push herself up. She couldn't.

Shen Mu stalked toward her, his crimson aura seething with unrestrained malice. Every movement sent fresh agony through her broken body. Her vision swam, her head throbbing from where debris had struck her skull.

She had never felt this fragile before.

She had never felt so close to death.

And as Shen Mu loomed over her, grinning like a beast eyeing its wounded prey—

She felt it again, 

Fear.

A slow, methodical crunch of footsteps echoed through the battlefield. Shen Mu moved with a deliberate slowness, his eyes locked on Meilin's broken form. Blood dripped from his knuckles, pooling at his feet. He exhaled, the sound deep and guttural, before reaching down—

And grabbing Layla by the hair.

Pain erupted through her scalp as she was yanked upward. A sharp, involuntary scream tore from her throat, her hands scrambling weakly against his wrist. Her limbs felt heavy, useless, her ribs burning with every ragged breath.

Her mind screamed at her to move, to resist, but her body refused.

"Ah...This pain… this weakness… I hate it." she tells to herself

Her vision blurred with tears, her body trembling as Shen Mu lifted her higher. His grip was like iron, unforgiving, every movement sending fresh agony through her already broken frame.

"So fragile," he mused, voice laced with cruel amusement. 

"I expected more from the woman who orchestrated this little ambush. You do look pretty even when covered with your own blood"

Layla choked back a whimper as she tried to focus, but the agony was blinding. Every breath felt like knives slicing through her lungs, her senses drowning under the overwhelming weight of her injuries. I can't think. I can't breathe.

And then she realized—the battlefield had grown silent. She knew that either her plans work with perfection and suffered no loss except her or this was about to be a bloodbath.

The warriors who had secured their victories were now returning, only to find Meilin dangling helplessly in Shen Mu's grasp.

They stopped. Stared. Horror settled into their expressions as they felt the shift in the air, a dark presence swallowing their fleeting triumph. The suffocating weight of Shen Mu's power spread through the battlefield like a creeping plague.

"Meilin…?" One of them whispered, disbelieving. "No… no, this isn't right."

Bao, bloodied and battered, forced himself to move. His entire body screamed against the effort, but he could not—would not—stay still.

Layla's blurry vision locked onto him, and for a fleeting moment, her face twisted—not in desperation, but in silent command. We won. Ask them to leave me. The words never passed her lips, but they were there, screaming through the pain in her eyes. She did not want them to fight for her now. Not when they had already given their all. Not when she could already feel the weight of defeat crushing her lungs.

But Bao didn't listen. He never would. He crawled like a worm towards her.

Her body spasmed as she tried to move, an unnatural burst of adrenaline forcing her limbs to respond. She gritted her teeth, clawing at Shen Mu's wrist, trying to pry herself free. Her vision darkened at the edges, pain screaming through her bones as she struggled. 

Move. Move, damn you!

Shen Mu barely reacted. He exhaled, annoyed, like one swatting away a gnat.

"Still fighting? Tch." His grip tightened in her hair, sending fresh agony through her skull. He yanked her up higher, her toes now at his stomach level. "You're starting to be an eyesore."

His other hand pulled back, fingers flexing—preparing to end her. The air started to be disoriented. The air was heavy. The killing she knew all too well. She was about to die through a gut punch.

Then, a gust of wind. A blur of motion.

A fist, heavier than steel, slammed into Shen Mu's ribs.

The impact sent a shockwave through the battlefield. The earth beneath them cracked and birds that stood on branches loss their balance. Dust and debris kicked up around them as Shen Mu's feet skidded against the bloodstained earth. A grunt of pain escaped his lips as he released Meilin from his grip, shaking his arm as if to rid himself of an irritant. Layla barely registered her sudden freedom—her body flies into the sky like a marionette with cut strings.

Up there, staring at the darkened sky above, a bitter thought crept into her mind. 

Why am I the first person to die twice in a single day?

She let out a wheezing, broken laugh, the sound barely more than a whisper. Her limbs twitched, trying and failing to move. Not yet. Not like this.

Before she could spiral further into the abyss of unconsciousness, strong arms caught her, cradling her broken frame. Through blurred vision, she looked up and saw her father.

Lin Wuye's face, always so composed, was twisted in something she had rarely seen—grief. His eyes, rimmed red, darted over her injuries, his breath uneven. "Meilin..." he whispered, voice cracking, as though saying her name aloud would make this nightmare more real. 

Tears fell, unnoticed, as his grip on her tightened. He gently lowers her down to a tree with shaky arms.

"You will live Meilin, I will make sure of it" he said to her.

Shen Mu, still rubbing his ribs, let out a low chuckle. "Now, this is interesting. The wise Lin Wuye, breaking his vow of pacifism? I should be honored."

Standing before him was Lin Wuye—Meilin's father.

His scholar's robes were torn, streaked with dirt and blood. His hands trembled, clenched into fists. His face, always calm, always composed, was contorted with fury, his eyes wet with unshed tears.

Lin Wuye didn't answer. He had no words left. Only rage.

And Shen Mu? He welcomed it with a grin.