Those Who Survived

Outside the city, the roars of spirit beasts continued to echo through the defensive barrier. Among them was one particularly deep roar that made everyone near the gate instinctively look outward.

The Fire Sand Tiger King still had not stopped.

The uncontrolled beasts had thrown the southern army into chaos, but the disorder did not last as long as Hao Nhien had expected. Before long, a sharp whistle suddenly sounded from far beyond the encirclement.

It was not especially loud, yet it cut clearly through the wind, the roaring beasts, and the repeated collisions of artifacts.

After the first whistle, the black-robed cultivators pursuing near the southern gate immediately stopped.

The second whistle sounded, and the units farther back began withdrawing beyond the effective range of the defensive formation. They did not turn and flee. Instead, they retreated while covering one another. Artifact users held back the maddened beasts while those farther behind dragged wounded companions and injured allies out of the chaotic area.

When the third whistle came, longer than the first two, the formation that had been torn into several sections by the beasts had already begun slowly reconnecting.

Hao Nhien stood on the stone steps inside the gate and looked through an observation slit.

From here, he could clearly see only the southern battlefield and part of the area extending toward the southeast. Beyond that, dunes, darkness, smoke, and fire obscured everything else.

At least the force directly before him had begun retreating toward its outer line.

The points of spiritual light in the southeast were also growing sparser, but Hao Nhien did not relax.

This assault had been repelled.

The encirclement around Cat Loi had not disappeared.

Cat Thanh quickly climbed the wall, with Hao Nhien and Luu Thanh following behind.

More than half the people still capable of standing atop the wall continued gripping bows or weapons.

No one lowered their arms.

No one cheered.

Those controlling the formation flags continued feeding spiritual power into the barrier, while several people who had just been relieved of duty sat down on the spot, their hands trembling too badly to hold their water flasks.

Cat Thanh watched the enemy for a long while before issuing orders in a low voice.

“No pursuit. Rotate the formation guards and inspect every formation flag along the southern wall. Archers remain alert. Everyone still fit to move divides into two groups. Half stay on the wall. Half go down and help the wounded.”

Hoarse but uniform responses followed.

“Yes, City Lord!”

Hao Nhien looked into the distance.

Spiritual lights still burned inside the camps beyond the city. Figures were regrouping, new formation flags were being planted, and small teams had begun pulling spirit beast carcasses and wounded men away from the battlefield.

Cat Thanh saw it as well.

His hand tightened around the stone railing.

“They will come back.”

“Definitely.”

Hao Nhien replied.

“And next time, they will not leave the beast-control group somewhere this easy to strike.”

Cat Thanh turned toward him.

Dried blood covered his armor in patches, while smoke and dust had nearly obscured his entire face.

“No matter what happens next, tonight you saved Cat Loi once.”

He instinctively raised a hand, but when he noticed the tears in Hao Nhien’s clothing, the movement slowed.

In the end, he simply placed his hand on Hao Nhien’s shoulder.

“My thanks.”

Hao Nhien shook his head.

“We are allies. Hoa Van cannot stand aside when Cat Loi is in danger.”

Cat Thanh fell silent.

Hao Nhien remembered the question he had asked before they climbed the wall.

What did the enemy want?

Cat Thanh had said he thought he knew.

Hao Nhien was about to ask again when urgent shouts suddenly rose from below.

“He’s still alive!”

“Over here!”

“Get someone who knows medicine!”

Cat Thanh immediately turned.

“That matter can wait. We save people first.”

Hao Nhien nodded.

“Let’s go.”

The three quickly descended from the wall.

Luu Thanh still held his longbow and occasionally glanced back toward the southern gate, clearly prepared in case the enemy suddenly returned.

But once he stepped down from the wall, even his pace gradually slowed.

Outside the defensive formation lay the battlefield.

Inside was where the people who had just come back from that battlefield were being carried.

The broad open ground behind the southern wall had been turned into a temporary treatment area.

Dust and sand still covered the stone floor from repeated shocks against the formation. Several sections of railing and a few steps near the base of the wall had cracked from the backlash, but the houses deeper inside the city remained intact.

What made the place feel heavy was not destruction.

It was the people.

The wounded lay in rows along the base of the wall.

Those still conscious gritted their teeth and pressed their hands against their wounds. Those who had passed out were carried down from defensive positions by their companions, while the most critically injured were placed closest to those with medical knowledge.

Blood soaked into the stone, mixed with water used to clean wounds, and ran in pale red trails through the cracks between the paving stones.

Anyone with even a little medical knowledge moved constantly between the wounded.

Buckets of clean water were carried over one after another. Hemostatic powder and bandages disappeared so quickly that some people were forced to tear their outer robes into strips.

Farther away, those who had not fought directly were moving spirit stones, water, and supplies toward the walls.

The city was still standing.

The houses were still intact.

But the number of people being carried down was enough to show what price had been paid to keep the enemy outside the gates.

NovelPhoenix is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

Not far away, an old man sat against a wall with the body of a young defender in his arms.

One of the dead man’s hands still clutched a broken spear shaft. A blackened wound marked his chest, though most of the yin energy within it had already dispersed.

The old man did not cry.

He simply used his sleeve to wipe blood from his son’s face.

When more blood trickled down from the young man’s hair, he wiped it away again.

Farther off, a child’s voice called for his father among the wounded before a woman quickly pulled him aside.

There were no wails loud enough to fill the city.

There was no single overwhelming scene of tragedy.

Only losses scattered along different stretches of road.

But placed together, they made the entire city feel heavier than any cry of grief.

As Hao Nhien looked around, an image of Hoa Van briefly appeared in his mind: the newly built houses, the fields just beginning to turn green, the Medicinal Institute, Hoa Van Treasure Pavilion, and children running between the rows of homes.

Cat Loi before him had once been a place like that too.

These houses had not appeared overnight.

Neither had these roads.

A family might spend years building a home, and a tribe might spend generations raising a city, yet war needed only one night to twist everything out of shape.

A weak groan pulled Hao Nhien back.

He stopped watching.

“Life-Vitality Pills.”

Luu Thanh immediately opened his storage ring.

“More than two bottles left. We still have enough hemostatic powder as well.”

“Give them to me.”

Hao Nhien knelt beside the nearest wounded man.

It was a middle-aged warrior whose shoulder had been pierced by something sharp. Blood had soaked through half his clothing, while thin black lines had appeared around the wound, showing that yin energy was still invading deeper into his body.

His breathing was extremely weak.

Hao Nhien placed a Life-Vitality Pill in his mouth, pressed a hand against his chest, and used spiritual power to guide the medicinal energy through him.

The pill could not make the wound vanish or immediately purge the yin energy.

But its medicinal power quickly stabilized the man’s weakening vitality, slowed the bleeding, and gradually steadied his breathing.

Afterward, Hao Nhien circulated a thin stream of fire-aligned spiritual power around the injury, suppressing the yin energy there so it would not continue spreading deeper into the meridians.

The man’s eyes opened slightly.

“Hao…”

“Do not speak.”

Hao Nhien kept his hand against the man’s chest.

“You are still alive. Focus on breathing.”

The man gave the faintest nod.

Hao Nhien immediately moved on to the next person.

He did not use Life-Vitality Pills on everyone.

Minor wounds required only powder, bandaging, and proper bleeding control. The pills were reserved for those who had lost too much blood or whose vitality was already weakening.

Those suffering from yin contamination were stabilized first, then moved aside to await cultivators with sufficient cultivation to continue suppressing and expelling it.

Luu Thanh knew little medicine, but he did exactly what Hao Nhien told him to do.

He carried the wounded, distributed medicine, brought water, and recorded where each person had been injured and when, preventing the healers from having to ask the same questions repeatedly.

After some time, Cat Thanh approached from another direction.

He had just helped carry a warrior who had lost a leg into one of the houses, and another layer of fresh blood now stained his armor.

“Twenty-seven dead on the southern side.”

His voice was low and hoarse.

“Another eleven may not survive the night.”

Hao Nhien looked up.

Cat Thanh stared toward the wall, which was still trembling faintly from the lingering strain of the formation.

“I prepared spirit stones, increased the shifts for our formation masters, and moved the elderly and children into the inner district. It still wasn’t enough.”

Hao Nhien said nothing.

Cat Thanh placed a hand on his shoulder, this time gripping harder than before.

“If you and Luu Thanh had not come tonight, that number would have been much higher.”

After saying that, he turned away and headed back toward the people carrying the wounded.

His back remained straight, but his steps were noticeably heavier than when he had stood atop the wall.

Hao Nhien had just lowered himself beside another wounded man when a woman nearby suddenly grabbed his sleeve.

“Clan Chief Hao, please save him.”

Hao Nhien turned.

A young defender lay in her arms.

Hao Nhien placed two fingers against the young man’s neck, then swept his spiritual sense through the body.

There was no pulse.

The heart meridian had already ruptured, and nearly all vitality had dissipated.

The woman looked at the jade bottle in Hao Nhien’s hand.

“You still have pills, don’t you? Just one. Please, try one…”

Hao Nhien looked directly at her.

That only made the answer harder to give.

“It is too late.”

The woman shook her head.

“That cannot be true. He was speaking to me just now. He said after this battle he would take me to Hoa Van…”

Her voice began to break.

“He was just talking…”

Hao Nhien did not take out a pill.

A Life-Vitality Pill could not bring back someone whose heart meridian had already shattered.

If he used one here, another person who still had a chance to live might die because that pill was no longer available.

The choice was cold.

It was also unavoidable.

Hao Nhien lowered his head slightly.

“I cannot save him.”

The woman did not blame him.

She only bent down and pressed her forehead against the body.

That silence weighed more heavily on Hao Nhien’s chest than any accusation could have.

For an instant, he thought of Anh Nhien, then of the world he had left behind.

There were still people and places beyond his reach, things he was not yet strong enough to touch.

But the people lying before him were different.

Some of them could still be saved.

“Next.”

Hao Nhien stood.

Not long afterward, a familiar voice called from the end of the street.

“Hao Nhien!”

He turned.

A young woman in sand-yellow clothing was running toward him. Her hair was disheveled, one arm was wrapped in cloth already half-soaked with blood, and dried blood stained one cheek.

Tieu Nhan.

The moment she reached him, she stopped and looked Hao Nhien over from head to toe before finally exhaling.

“You really came.”

“Mm.”

Hao Nhien looked at her arm.

“You’re injured?”

“Just a small wound.”

Tieu Nhan looked at the jade bottles in Luu Thanh’s hands.

“Medicine?”

“Yes.”

“There are still many people on the western side who have not been brought here. I know which units just came down from the wall. Some of them are badly wounded.”

Hao Nhien handed her two bags of hemostatic powder, then added a bottle of Life-Vitality Pills, though he kept his hand on it for a moment.

“Listen carefully. The powder is for stopping bleeding. Life-Vitality Pills are only for those whose vitality is weakening or who have lost too much blood. If someone’s heart has already stopped or their heart meridian has ruptured, do not use one.”

Tieu Nhan glanced toward the woman still holding the dead young man nearby.

Her eyes changed slightly, but she nodded.

“I understand.”

“What about someone with yin energy in the wound?”

“The pill can keep them alive, but it cannot remove the yin energy. Bring them here or find a cultivator strong enough to help.”

Tieu Nhan hugged the medicine bottle to her chest.

“Alright.”

She took two steps, then suddenly stopped.

“Hao Nhien.”

“Mm?”

Tieu Nhan looked down at the Life-Vitality Pills in her hand.

“If someone never learned alchemy before… is it too late to start now?”

Hao Nhien was slightly surprised.

“No. As long as you are willing to begin from the fundamentals.”

Tieu Nhan stared through the translucent jade at the pills for several breaths, then nodded.

“I understand.”

She ran off with the medicine, already calling for those nearby to separate the wounded according to severity.

Hao Nhien watched her for a moment before turning toward another person who had just been carried in.

He did not know how much time passed before the most critical wounded were finally stabilized.

The dead were moved to a separate area and covered with cloth, while the survivors were taken into intact houses to escape the night wind.

Hao Nhien sat down on a stone step.

Both of his hands were covered in blood.

None of it was his.

Luu Thanh handed him a waterskin.

Hao Nhien took a drink, then poured the rest over his hands and watched the red water run down the edge of the step.

A young Cat Loi warrior nearby had been watching him for some time before finally walking over.

One side of the man’s armor had been burned black, and a fresh cut ran across his cheek.

“Clan Chief Hao.”

Hao Nhien looked up.

The young man pointed toward the house where a group of wounded had just been carried inside.

“Those people in there thought they were going to die.”

He cupped his hands.

“If you had arrived even a little later, some of them might be lying on the other side now. I thank you on their behalf.”

Hao Nhien remained silent for a moment before nodding.

“Go rest.”

The young warrior smiled wearily.

“I still have to take the next shift on the wall.”

With that, he turned and left.

Hao Nhien watched his retreating back for several breaths before standing again.

Near dawn, the attacks outside finally stopped completely.

Hao Nhien stood atop the roof of an intact house and looked down over Cat Loi City beneath the pale light before sunrise.

The dead had been arranged neatly in a separate area.

The wounded rested inside houses temporarily converted into treatment rooms.

Those who still had strength were carrying water, repairing damaged sections near the wall, clearing fallen stone, and checking formation flags.

It had taken Hao Nhien and Luu Thanh nearly two days to reach this place by flying sword.

For cultivators, that was not an especially great distance.

For a city under attack, two days could decide who lived and who died.

Cat Loi had a transmission station.

The warning had been sent as soon as danger appeared.

Cat Luc had even risked his life breaking through the encirclement to carry detailed intelligence to Hoa Van, and Hao Nhien had departed almost immediately after confirming the situation.

Even so, he had still arrived only after the defensive formation was already being battered hard enough to shake.

If the formation had been slightly weaker, or if the enemy had launched its full assault earlier, the people he had just helped save might never have had the chance to lie inside those houses below.

Hao Nhien looked at the faintly glowing formation lines across the wall.

Building higher walls or adding more defenders would not be enough.

A place under attack could not always be expected to hold alone until reinforcements crossed thousands of miles from Hoa Van.

What needed to change was the period before the battlefield fully formed.

Danger had to be detected earlier.

Information had to move faster.

And when one place sent a call for aid, the nearest force needed to be capable of responding before everything was already too late.

For now, it was only a principle rather than a complete plan.

But it was clear enough for Hao Nhien to understand that once he returned, Hoa Van could no longer build an alliance through trade, shared rules, and promises of mutual support alone.

A true alliance had to ensure that its members were not forced to endure alone until the final moment.

Hao Nhien’s gaze slowly moved across the rooftops of Cat Loi.

In the beginning, Hoa Van had been little more than a foothold to gather resources, raise a force, and prepare himself for the greater dangers still hidden in the shadows.

But the more people entered Hoa Van, the less it could remain merely a tool.

Behind every name in the household registry was a life, a family, and something that person did not want to lose.

If Hoa Van ever became what Cat Loi was before him now, he could not simply look at casualty numbers and tell himself that the city was still standing.

Hao Nhien slowly exhaled.

Today it was Cat Loi.

Tomorrow it could be Hoa Van.

And next time, he wanted the danger to be seen before it ever reached the city gates.