"I'll ask you one last time—surrender or not?"

The gloomy sky hung low, choked with thick, dark clouds.

Hailwind swept across the battlefield, icy and biting.

Instantly, the air turned heavy with dread.

"We..."

On a small hilltop stood the remnants of the Great Empire’s army.

But now, they were a scattered mess.

Gravely wounded, they leaned on each other for support, gripping bloodstained weapons.

They huddled on that barren mound, battered and broken.

Surrounding them stood row upon row of Bannell City soldiers—armored, fresh, and ruthless.

Thirty thousand elite troops encircled the Empire’s five thousand survivors.

No strength remained in the Empire’s soldiers.

Exhausted. Bleeding.

Even if they raised their weapons again, it would be their last desperate effort.

"Well, Noble Elf?" The Bannell general rode up to a finely dressed middle-aged man. "Still haven’t decided?"

"Who’d have thought you’d charge in so recklessly with your twenty thousand men? Walked right into our trap."

"How badly did you crave glory? The Queen’s favor?"

Yes—the Empire’s troops had followed Elf’s rash orders, ignoring their commander’s warning to wait for reinforcements.

Blinded by ambition, Elf had rushed to seize victory, dreaming of royal rewards and closer ties to the throne.

But he knew nothing of war.

When Bannell’s forces feigned retreat, he mistook it for weakness.

*My brilliant strategy*, he’d thought. *I’ll crush them and claim the city*.

It was a trap.

Tens of thousands of Bannell soldiers surged from all sides, slaughtering Elf’s isolated troops.

Stripped of his army, Elf was just a trembling man.

Overwhelmed by sheer numbers, his forces shattered into a fragile remnant.

"Surrender and become prisoners," the general sneered. "Or fight and die. But look at you—you can barely stand. Your only hope is to kneel and beg for mercy. Hah!"

"Pitiful Elf. Your arrogance cost your men their lives. Your honor? Ashes."

"Choose: kneel and beg, or die clinging to your so-called Imperial loyalty?"

Elf trembled violently, tears streaming down his face.

He dropped to his knees, unable to meet the general’s gaze.

"Oh? You actually knelt? No wonder we ambushed you so easily. Your commander’s a coward!"

"Fine. I’ll grant your wish!" The general raised his voice. "Men! Kill them all! Spare the women in the rear—take them hostage. Leverage against the Empire!"

"You—you!" Elf’s eyes widened in terror.

"*You* what? You can beg all you like. But *I* decide whether to spare you."

The general lifted his heavy blade.

"Let me send you to hell to apologize to your men—huh?"

*Thwack!*

A flash of white. Hot crimson spray splattered the general’s face.

He froze.

*I haven’t even swung yet—why is he dead?*

Elf’s severed head rolled to his boots.

When the general looked up, Elf’s body lay headless on the ground.

In his place stood a boy in a black trench coat, hood shadowing his face.

Baiyi. Ten years old. A fresh recruit.

"The Great Empire needs no cowards."

A child’s voice hissed in the general’s ear.

Soft. Yet it chilled him like a Demon’s whisper.

"Fight and die. Flee and die. If death is certain… why not die with resolve? For honor?"

"You—"

"So to live…" Baiyi’s voice sharpened. "*We consecrate our blade with your blood!*"

A surge of raw energy erupted from the boy.

His silver Curved Saber flashed—once.

The general’s head tumbled to the dirt.

No hesitation. No warning.

"For the Empire! Kill them all!"

Baiyi charged into the enemy ranks, blade whirling.

Brutal. Ruthless.

Each swing painted the air red.

No grace. No flashy skills.

Only the cold, pale gleam of his saber.

Blade rose. Blade fell.

Life and death parted.

"*Charge!*"

Baiyi’s defiance ignited the Empire’s soldiers.

Wounded and weary, they heaved themselves up.

Gripping weapons, they threw their broken bodies into the fray.

"*For the Empire!*"

Blood soaked the earth. Corpses piled high.

Only the will to survive drove them.

…

When Baiyi cut down the last Bannell soldier, the surviving thousand Empire troops collapsed where they stood.

Medics rushed to tend the wounded.

"Regroup!" Baiyi’s voice cut through the silence. "Tomorrow, we march the remaining thousand into the city. Seize the stronghold!"

"Kill any resisting soldiers. Civilians—knock them out. Do not kill."