Night settles over the forest.
A campfire crackles as Aomi finishes securing the tent, its orange glow barely pushing back the darkness between the trees.
Nearby, Níng grills strips of boar over the flames.
Fat spits onto the coals with sharp hisses, sending up fragrant smoke that winds between the trunks.
Aomi drops onto a log with a tired sigh and glances at her.
“Hey, where’s your tent?”
Níng finishes arranging the skewers before sitting beside him.
“That one!”
She points to the tent he has just finished setting up.
Aomi looks at the tent, then back at her in confusion.
“That’s mine.”
Níng turns her attention to the fire, watching the flames slowly cook the meat.
“We can share it!”
Aomi pinches the bridge of his nose.
“Well, you’re not wrong. Still, you need to be prepared sometimes.”
Níng tilts her head, firelight dancing across her face.
“I am prepared!”
Aomi stares at her blankly before sighing.
“Tomorrow, we’ll reach the Jīn region and settle down before heading to the Gang region.”
He glances at the skewers and flips them over to cook the other side.
“I forgot to tell you, but we’re going to hunt a spirit.”
“A spirit?! Which one?!”
Níng’s eyes light up as she scoots closer, her excitement growing.
“One that can change a person’s appearance at will.”
He replies casually, leaning forward to flip another skewer.
“Really?! We’ll get it!”
She nods enthusiastically before turning back toward the fire.
“Happy dinner time!”
She grabs a skewer and takes a bite.
Aomi quietly picks one up as well and begins eating.
The two enjoy their meal beneath the moon as it rises higher into the darkening sky.
…
The next morning, Aomi wakes half-asleep.
He tries to move but finds himself unable to.
Slowly, he looks down at what is holding him in place.
Níng’s arms and legs are wrapped around his waist and shoulders.
Her cheek is pressed against his shoulder, and a thin trail of drool runs down his clothes.
He stares at the tent ceiling with half-open eyes.
This is why I wanted separate tents.
He nudges her shoulder, trying to wake her, but she stubbornly refuses to move.
“Níng.”
He nudges her harder.
“Whattt?”
She tightens her sleepy grip on him.
“Get up.”
“No.”
She refuses to move.
Aomi narrows his eyes.
“Fine. I’ll leave you here.”
Níng’s eyes snap open, and she quickly tightens her arms around him.
“Nooo! Don’t! I’ll get up! I don’t want to go back to that boring life in the Xue Sect again!”
“Then get up.”
Aomi rises, lifting her with him.
” Mmph.”
She pouts before climbing onto his back.
” My eyes hurt.”
Aomi sighs, already used to her antics, and carries her outside.
” Get off me.”
” No.”
Her legs tighten around his waist.
” Wake up already.”
The sound of flowing water striking the rocks fills the silence as Níng yawns, leaning over his shoulder.
At least she seems to be awake now.
” No.”
She giggles and kicks her legs playfully.
Aomi rolls his eyes and lets go of her.
She falls flat on her back.
” Ugh!
Mean!
I even let you sleep with me yesterday!”
“So what? You still need to clean yourself up before we leave, don’t you?”
Aomi turns toward the river and washes his face.
However, the sudden blast of a horn cuts through the morning and makes him freeze.
Níng looks around in confusion.
“What was that?”
Aomi splashes some water onto her face, then reaches for his white-fall axe in his pouch.
“Rise and shine, Níng. Today, we both have to fight.”
He scans the trees before pointing toward a direction deep within the forest.
“The barbarians.”
…
Níng looks even more confused as she peers into the forest.
” Wait what?
Where?”
“They usually come here to hunt and loot. I thought there were more bandits than usual yesterday, so I guess some of them were part of the barbarian group heading this way.”
Aomi tightens his grip on his axe.
“Get ready. They’re hunting us now.”
He smirks at the darkness between the trees.
His Winter White Fox slips from his robe and coils around his neck, its pale fur almost invisible against the morning mist.
For a moment, the forest falls silent.
Then the ground trembles.
Blue veins flare across Aomi’s arms as the ring on his finger expands with a metallic pulse.
He raises his axe toward the trees.
” They’re here.”
Níng raises her spear.
Her confusion gives way to curiosity as she swings the weapon once, testing its balance.
A branch snaps.
Then another.
Heavy footsteps pound through the undergrowth.
The earth shudders harder with every approaching step.
Níng’s heart pounds with excitement.
Her eyes shine like diamonds as she stares into the forest.
…
A horde of sixty-eight people bursts from the trees, each carrying a weapon.
Axes, clubs, spears, and crude blades glint in the morning light.
The barbarians spread across the riverbank, cutting off every escape.
“So you two slaughtered our brothers yesterday?!”
“They’re just two people! We should hang them from the trees in our camp!”
Their shouts echo through the forest.
Aomi calmly assesses the horde.
Sixty-eight enemies.
No formation.
No discipline.
Just rage and numbers.
This is easy.
I can heal, and I have Níng with me.
The longer this fight goes on, the stronger I’ll become thanks to my injured bear.
Blue veins blaze across his arms.
Níng pauses beside him, staring at the strange power pulsing beneath his skin.
Aomi steps forward and raises his axe.
White spiritual energy gathers at its tip, first as a spark, then as a swirling sphere.
Frost creeps across the blade.
The barbarians’ shouting falters as the light grows brighter.
Aomi begins chanting, his voice steady beneath the rising roar of spiritual power.
“The sky strikes the peaks and forges them into its head. The crushing avalanche descends bringing death to all!”
The sphere detonates.
A massive beam of white light erupts from the axe with a thunderous crack and tears through the forest.
Trees burst apart, their trunks exploding into jagged splinters.
The river flares silver beneath the blast.
The beam rips through the center of the horde, splitting the barbarian army in half sides before anyone can react.
The front ranks vanish first.
Then the warriors behind them are swallowed by the blinding radiance.
When the light finally fades, the ground between the two sides is scorched black.
Ash drifts through the air.
Smoke curls from shattered trees, and the silence is broken only by the hiss of burning earth.
Everyone caught in the attack has been reduced to dust.
Níng’s eyes sparkle with curiosity and excitement.
Aomi lowers his axe and looks toward the surviving barbarians on either side.
“Níng, you take the left. I’ll take the right.”
Before the remaining enemies can recover, he charges forward.
Níng bursts into motion at the same instant, mist enveloping her body as she darts toward the left flank.
“Hell yeah!”
A barbarian swings a club at Aomi’s head.
He ducks beneath it, then drives his shoulder into the man’s chest.
The impact folds the barbarian backward.
Aomi follows with an upward cleave, and frost erupts from the white-fall axe as the man crashes into the mud.
To Aomi’s right, Níng spins through the mist.
Her spear flashes in a tight arc, knocking one weapon aside before its tip pierces another attacker’s shoulder.
She twists, yanks the spear free, and sweeps the man’s legs out from under him.
The barbarians roar and surge around them.
Aomi plants his foot, catches an axe on the haft of his weapon, and shoves it aside.
A second attacker lunges from behind.
The Winter White Fox snaps forward, its jaws clamping around the man’s wrist and forcing him to drop his blade.
Aomi pivots and strikes before the man can scream.
Níng laughs as three barbarians close around her.
Mist coils around her legs and spills across the ground, blurring her outline.
She slips between two swinging weapons, vaults over a third attacker, and lands behind them.
Her spear thrusts twice in rapid succession.
Then the butt of the weapon slams into the last man’s jaw with a wet crack.
The battle rages on until afternoon.
Steel rings through the forest with every clash.
Boots churn the riverbank into mud.
Mist bursts and coils around Níng’s spear, while white spiritual energy flashes from Aomi’s axe in cold, blinding arcs.
Wounds open across Aomi’s body and seal almost as quickly, leaving only torn cloth and streaks of blood.
Beside him, Níng fights with growing exhilaration, darting from one opponent to the next without letting her spear slow.
The barbarians try to regroup, but the river traps them.
Aomi suffocates the remaining in the river to death while Níng draggs the ones on ground in aswell.
One by one, their shouts fade beneath the the rush of water and bubbles.
By the time the final barbarian falls, the riverbank is silent once more.
All sixty-eight barbarians have been slaughtered.
Níng cleans herself in the river wiping away dust and blood.
Aomi sits at the edge of the river looking at the bodies flow away.
A thought across es his mind seeing the bodies.
A person called brave is just a person who is foolish enough to face the danger.
If they win they are heroes but, if they lose they are labelled as fools and idiots in history.
He gets up kicking a body far away into the river.
The sun glows still far from setting down as it glistens it’s reflection in the water and Aomi standing who looks at the clouds.
These barbarians are now the ridiculous brutes of history.