The world knows no bounds – 3

June 24th.
 On this day, the azure sky was pristine, stretching endlessly without a cloud in sight, and the sun blazed with an intensity that seemed to set the heavens aflame.
 At noon, a sudden, resonating drumbeat shattered the tranquility that had enveloped the city of Gui for days. As the city’s commander, Fu Huan, led his men to the battlements, they were met with a sight that sent shivers down their spines. The Eastern army stood poised in formation, their armor gleaming like silver and their red tassels blazing like fire. Their overwhelming presence made the hearts of the defenders race with trepidation.
Were they finally launching their assault on Gui?
 “General, the Eastern army is preparing to attack, but… our reinforcements haven’t arrived,” a worried officer remarked. They had sent for reinforcements days ago, but there was still no sign of them.
Fu Huan remained silent, gripping the hilt of his blade. He then issued his orders with a voice as deep as a canyon, “General Ye, defend the eastern gate. Captain Qin, guard the western gate. General Li, protect the northern gate.”
The orders were acknowledged, and the officers dispersed.
 Fu Huan took his position at the southern gate. The Eastern army’s numbers dwarfed their own. As for reinforcements, they had little hope left. The elite army of 120,000 from the Northern Seas, which had set out with the ambition to sweep through the Eastern dynasty, was now reduced to a mere 40,000, with the rest stationed at Gui. This was their last bastion of hope. Fu Huan was prepared to fight to the death to defend their homeland. But as he gazed upon the formidable Eastern army, a chilling dread crept into his heart.
 Perhaps their fate was sealed the moment internal strife plagued their kingdom, or maybe even earlier, when their king had boldly proclaimed his intention to conquer the fertile lands of the East. Now, standing here, Fu Huan felt the weight of his responsibilities, yet he felt powerless to change the course of destiny.
 “For a general, to die wrapped in horsehide is an honor,” Fu Huan murmured.
 The officers behind him exchanged somber glances, their faces etched with despair. The drums roared and the horns bellowed.
 The Eastern army initiated their assault, while the Northern defenders braced themselves.
 Although Dong Shixiu had declared a frontal assault, he was well aware of the determination of Fu Huan, who would defend Gui to his last breath. A direct assault would result in heavy casualties for the Eastern army.
 So, when the Northern defenders readied their longbows and unsheathed their swords, the Eastern army did not immediately charge. Instead, they rolled out hundreds of powerful crossbows.
 “Shields up!” Fu Huan bellowed.
 Almost simultaneously, a chilling command echoed from the Eastern ranks, “Fire!” A barrage of iron arrows rained down, causing havoc among the Northern defenders on the battlements.
 “Shields!” cried the surviving soldiers.
 Another volley of arrows was unleashed, felling even more of the Northern troops.
Soon, sturdy shields were erected on the battlements, with soldiers taking cover behind them. But as the first volley of arrows was released, the Eastern army had already advanced with siege ladders under the cover of the arrow barrage. Seeing the Northern soldiers fully shielded, the Eastern forces quickly placed their ladders against the walls and began their ascent.
A Northern soldier spotted the movement below and shouted, “Quick! Drop the shields! They’re climbing up!”
 The Northern soldiers hastily discarded their shields, readying themselves with boulders and weapons to repel the invaders. As the two sides clashed in close combat, the Northern defenders, leveraging their advantageous position, managed to repel many of the Eastern soldiers. But at that moment, the Eastern army unveiled a row of towering bronze mirrors. The blazing midday sun reflected off these mirrors, casting blinding rays that rendered the Northern soldiers nearly sightless. Taking advantage of this, the Eastern forces swiftly scaled the walls.
 By the time the Northern soldiers regained their vision, they were met with a sea of gleaming Eastern armor. A fierce melee ensued.
 Meanwhile, at the city gates, the Eastern army deployed battering rams. And those who had breached the walls rushed to lower the drawbridge.
 The pulleys creaked as the drawbridge began to descend. “Hold the gatehouse!” Fu Huan roared, dashing into the gatehouse. With swift strikes, he felled the Eastern soldiers operating the drawbridge and jammed the pulley mechanism. The drawbridge halted midway, leaving the Eastern forces with their battering rams stranded at the edge of the moat.
 “Make way!” A clear voice rang out.
 The Eastern soldiers parted, revealing a lone figure on horseback, who charged forth like a silver arrow. In a breathtaking leap, the figure soared through the air, golden phoenix feathers trailing behind. With a flash of her blade, the chains of the drawbridge were severed, and it crashed down, sending up a cloud of dust.
 It was a dance of the phoenix in the sky, a spectacle of unparalleled grace.
 At that moment, Dong Shixiu, with the aura of a sovereign, raised his arm, gazing at Gui. “My warriors, join me in capturing Gui.” His tone was calm, his voice not particularly loud, but the authority and charisma he exuded were undeniable.
 “Yes!” The response from the Eastern army was deafening.
 The battering rams quickly crossed the now-lowered drawbridge, pounding against the city gates with thunderous force. “Bang! Bang! Bang!”
 A thunderous crash echoed, signaling the shattering of the city gates. In mere moments, the gates were breached, and iron-clad cavalry surged forth like a tidal wave, storming into the city of Gui. A fierce battle ensued.
 “None shall flee! None shall retreat! Slay them all!”
 As the gates crumbled, atop the city tower stood Fu Huan, unyielding and steadfast as an iron pillar. With every swing of his blade, heads rolled. His valor and might instilled courage in the panicked Northern soldiers, who rallied and fought back. Soon, half of the Eastern soldiers who had climbed the tower were slain, painting the walls a deep crimson. Rivulets of blood meandered down the stone walls.
 At the moat’s edge, Feng Duying glanced up at the tower. With a graceful leap, she soared, her feet lightly touching the wall mid-flight, propelling her to the tower’s top. Even before she landed, her Phoenix Scar Sword was unsheathed, and several Northern soldiers fell. But her target wasn’t the ordinary soldiers; she aimed for Fu Huan.
 A metallic clang resonated as Fu Huan parried her swift blade. As the gleam of the sword faded, he caught a glimpse of her eyes, cold as ice yet burning with fierce determination.
 “I am Feng Duying,” her voice, clear as a phoenix’s cry, pierced through the cacophony of battle.
 “I am Fu Huan of the North Sea,” he responded with a booming voice.
 Their blades danced, a symphony of steel, echoing across the land. From a distant hill behind the Eastern army, a lone figure observed the duel atop the tower. The grace of Feng Duying’s aerial maneuvers, the brilliance of her swordplay, and her eventual triumph over the valiant Northern general were all evident.
 “This is the ‘White Phoenix’ that commands the respect of countless armies,” mused Gu Yunyuan, his eyes shadowed with admiration.
 In the Imperial City, Feng Duying, known as the Shadow Phoenix General, was seen as a radiant yet fierce woman. But on this battlefield, amidst the swirling sands and rain of blood, she was the soaring phoenix, radiant and unmatched. Yet behind her dazzling brilliance, lay countless scars.
 Witnessing Fu Huan’s demise, the Northern soldiers within Gui City were thrown into chaos. The Eastern army’s momentum was unstoppable. The generals guarding the North and West gates, upon hearing the news, abandoned their posts, leading their remaining soldiers to flee. The General at the East gate surrendered.
Historical records state: “On the 24th day of the sixth month in the third year of Yuan Ding, the Emperor led his army to conquer Gui City. General Fu Huan fell to the sword of the Shadow Phoenix General.”
 Centuries later, the renowned historian, Kun Wu Dan, in his work “On the Hundred Battles of the East,” analyzed the reasons for the North Sea’s defeat. Among them were unfavorable circumstances, inferior military strength, poor strategic decisions, and leadership that couldn’t match the prowess of the Eastern leaders, especially Feng Duying.
 The world would remember Fu Huan not for his military achievements but for his honorable death at the hands of the legendary “Phoenix Princess” Feng Duying. As he fell, his last thought was of awe: “How can there be such a woman in this world, who kills as if plucking flowers, fearless in the face of death?”
 The sun, like a graceful dancer, retreated into the embrace of the western horizon, giving way to the moon, proud and radiant. The aftermath of the battle left Gui City littered with bodies, broken armor, and congealed blood. Soldiers silently cleaned the battlefield, collecting broken weapons and mourning their fallen comrades.
 Feng Duying stood atop the city tower, her silhouette sharp yet lonely against the backdrop of the pale moon and stars, reminiscent of a phoenix perched on a high cliff. Despite the victory, her heart bore no pride or joy.
 She remembered a time when, after her first kill, she was asked if she could put down her sword and lead a peaceful life. She had chosen the path of the warrior, and from that moment, she knew she was a killer. No matter her achievements or how history would remember her, she bore the weight of countless lives taken.
 Suddenly, a soft, melancholic flute melody wafted through the air, its mournful notes seeming to weep for the fallen soldiers. The tune then shifted, becoming light and uplifting, like a gentle breeze clearing away sorrow. The final notes were soft and comforting, reminiscent of a mother’s lullaby.
 The entire city was entranced by the music. Even Feng Duying, usually unyielding, was moved. Following the source of the sound, her eyes landed on a distant hill where a lone figure stood, bathed in moonlight. As she approached, the figure turned to leave.
 “Halt!” Feng Duying called out, leaping towards the hill. The figure paused, glancing back. Even from a distance, she recognized the familiar contours of his face. Her heart trembled, and she momentarily lost her focus, plummeting downwards. Regaining her composure, she leaped again, chasing after the mysterious flutist.
“Gah!”
 In the vast expanse of the night, a sharp cry pierced the silence. A majestic black eagle soared from the heavens, swiftly descending upon the hill.
 “Stop!” Feng Duying called out once more. However, the figure atop the hill neither paused nor looked back, instead mounting the grand eagle.
 With a powerful flap of its wings, the eagle ascended, carrying its rider into the night sky. By the time Feng Duying reached the hill’s peak, the eagle and its passenger were but distant silhouettes against the moonlit horizon, eventually vanishing into the vast expanse of the night.
 Who was this mysterious individual? Why did he play the flute here?
 The haunting melodies of the flute seemed to be a lament solely for Gui City, a song to soothe the weary soldiers and honor the departed souls of the battlefield.
 Was he merely passing by? Or…
 Recalling the brief glimpse she had of him, even though it was but a fleeting moment, his features seemed eerily familiar. In this world, the only person she knew who could play the flute with such soul-stirring emotion was her Fourth Brother, Feng Ji. But he was far away in the Imperial City. Why would he avoid her?
 Atop the hill, Feng Duying gazed into the starry expanse, feeling a profound sense of loss.
 After the conquest of Gui City, the Eastern army took a brief respite. On the 27th of the sixth month, they split into two divisions. One, led by Feng Duying, marched east, while the other, commanded by Dong Shixiu, headed west. Both divisions aimed to encircle and conquer the North Sea territories.
 On the first day of the seventh month, Feng Du Ying captured a city. By the third, Dong Shixiu had taken Pingcheng. The relentless march continued, with Feng Duying seizing Tan City on the seventh and Dong Shixiu capturing Diancheng on the eighth. By the eleventh, Feng Duying reached Quancheng, where the defending general surrendered without a fight. On the twelfth, Dong Shi Xiu arrived at another city, only to find it abandoned, its defenders having fled.
 The Eastern army’s two divisions, with their overwhelming might, continued their relentless march towards the North Sea. The defending generals either chose to die with their cities, fled in fear, or surrendered outright. The Eastern cavalry swept through the land like a storm, capturing most of the North Sea’s cities within a month.

By the sixth day of the eighth month, both Feng Duying and Dong Shixiu’s divisions converged on a city, effectively surrounding the capital of the North Sea. Dong Shixiu, atop his steed, signaled to shoot a message arrow into the city, declaring, “The army will not attack for three days. Choose to surrender or fight, North Sea King, choose wisely.”
 However, Xu Shi, a minister accompanying the army, interjected, “Your Majesty, our victory is imminent. Instead of an arrow, we should send an envoy with a royal decree. Let the North Sea King receive it with the proper ceremony. It befits our grandeur and showcases the might of our great empire.”
 Dong Shixiu glanced at Xu Shi, then, with a swift motion, tore a piece from his cloak. Using his general’s back as a makeshift desk, he penned a message in bold, flowing script. Once done, he took up a bow and arrow, pausing to address Xu Shi, “With two hundred thousand cavalry at the gates of the North Sea capital, do we still need to showcase our might? Does the North Sea King not know of our power?”
Xu Shi was momentarily taken aback.
 “Xu Shi, I have no need for such formalities. I only want the North Sea King to choose between surrender and battle!” With those words, he released the arrow, which shot forth like a bolt of lightning.
 As the arrow whizzed past, thousands of soldiers raised their weapons in unison, chanting, “Might! Might! Might!” Their voices echoed, shaking the very heavens and earth, instilling fear in the hearts of those atop the city walls.
That day, the Eastern army set up camp a short distance from the city.

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