Ning Shu hoped that the pitiful women who sought refuge under her care would find the strength to survive and thrive. To achieve that, they needed to train relentlessly, ensuring they had a fighting chance on the battlefield.
As predicted, once the snow ceased, He Lianying led his army of Tartars to attack the city.
Standing atop the city walls, Ning Shu locked eyes with He Lianying, her frustration simmering beneath the surface. Why wasn't this man dead yet? Had the poison not been strong enough? He had vomited blood before, yet here he was, seemingly recovered and ready to wreak havoc again.
He Lianying was clad in thick fur today, the soft pelts framing his neck, enhancing his wild and imposing presence. He glanced up at Ning Shu, a sly grin tugging at his lips, and with a wave of his hand, signaled his soldiers to storm the city walls with ladders.
The deep, resonant beat of battle drums echoed across the battlefield. Ning Shu's voice rang out, cold and commanding, "Release the arrows!"
A storm of arrows rained down, instantly transforming the Tartars attempting to climb the walls into grotesque pincushions.
"Again!" she barked.
Fresh reserve soldiers seamlessly took over for those at the front. Out of the corner of her eye, Ning Shu noticed several of her female soldiers hit by stray arrows from below. Her heart clenched momentarily, but she quickly regained her composure.
"Switch to the catapults!"
The ancient weapons roared to life, their devastating payload launching from the walls. Blocks of ice crashed down upon the enemy, sending the unlucky Tartars plummeting from their ladders to the frozen ground below, lifeless and still.
He Lianying's sharp gaze flickered towards the shapes partially concealed atop the walls, veiled by the heavy snow. His expression darkened as realization dawned. He turned to Ning Shu, suspicion burning in his eyes.
She met his gaze with a taunting smile. Yes, it's exactly what you think.
The frozen objects were the corpses of Tartars. Once hanging on the walls, they now sported hollow black sockets where their eyes had been picked clean by scavenger birds.
When making decisions, Ning Shu believed, either commit fully or don't act at all. Burn the bridges behind you and leave no retreat.
He Lianying's face twisted with fury, his eyes glinting with dangerous intent. Yet, amidst the seething rage, there was something unnerving—an odd glimmer of admiration. His aura darkened, becoming even more lethal, his gaze a volatile mix of murder and obsession.
Ning Shu extended her hand, and a soldier promptly placed a crossbow in her grasp. Without hesitation, she aimed directly at He Lianying. His response was immediate—he raised his bow, aiming back at her with equal precision.
"Swoosh! Swoosh!"
The two arrows tore through the air, sparks seeming to ignite as they crossed paths.
Ning Shu's pupils constricted as she tracked the incoming arrow. She tilted her head just in time, but the arrow still grazed her cheek, leaving a sharp sting and a thin trickle of blood.
"Princess, are you alright?" Duan Xinghui's voice trembled with panic as he rushed to her, swiftly dispatching a Tartar who had scaled the wall in his way.
Ning Shu didn't spare him a glance. Her lips curled into a dark smile as she wiped the blood from her face, then tasted it on her fingertips. Her gaze locked onto He Lianying with an unsettling calmness.
Duan Xinghui froze at the sight of Princess Jiahui's expression. His heart pounded uncontrollably. In that moment, her demonic smile, combined with the streak of blood on her face, exuded a raw, untamed savagery that took his breath away.
Princess Jiahui, at that moment, was nothing less than a vision of ruthless beauty fearless, unyielding, and utterly captivating.