Dao and Cha stopped just a few meters from the cave's entrance, their footsteps slow and heavy with exhaustion. Cha slumped onto a nearby rock, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. It was clear they had both been through a battle; their clothes were torn, stained with dirt and blood, and their faces were drawn with fatigue. Yet, despite their weariness, Minho could sense something more—a tension between them that unsettled her. Dao remained standing, his eyes scanning the area with the vigilance of someone expecting danger at any moment. He wiped sweat from his brow and took out a small gourd, drinking deeply before handing it to Cha. His voice, though low, carried clearly through the still night air. "Here, Your Highness," Dao said, offering the gourd. "The water is drinkable." Minho's heart lurched in her chest. Your Highness? The words struck her like a physical blow, confusion and disbelief flooding her mind. The title was reserved for royalty, for members of the imperial family. But Cha was supposed to be the son of a merchant, a prisoner captured during a raid. Why was Dao addressing him with such reverence? Cha took the gourd and drank, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I can't believe Senior Brother Minfe was the Empress's pet," Dao muttered bitterly, his tone laced with anger as he continued to scan the surroundings. "He so willingly let the village get destroyed." Minho's blood ran cold at Dao's words. Minfe, a spy for the Empress? The thought sent her reeling. Senior Brother Minfe, the man who had taught her, protected her, and led the Thunder Sky Brotherhood with strength and wisdom, had been a traitor all along? "Huh, getting sentimental, are we?" Cha paused mid-sip, a dismissive expression curling on his lips. "Jin, you were sent here to protect me and help me escape, not to get attached to a bunch of bandits." Dao/Jin? shifted uncomfortably, his posture stiffening at the rebuke. "That's not what I meant, Your Highness," he said quickly, his tone apologetic. "It's just... for the last eight years, Minfe has been a great leader to the Thunder Sky Brotherhood. It was hard to suspect him as the Empress's spy." Cha shrugged, indifferent. He stood up, stretching as if the conversation bored him. "Enough. I understand." His voice was cold, dismissive. "Now then, let's get out of these Jing Mountains. Show me the way." Minho watched in stunned silence as the two men turned and disappeared into the shadows, their figures fading into the darkness of the forest. For a long moment, she remained frozen, her mind struggling to process what she had just heard. Everything she had believed, everything she had known about her Brotherhood, her leaders—it was all a lie. Senior Brother Minfe, the man she had idolized, was a traitor working for the Empress. And Dao wasn't the man she thought he was either. He was working for someone else. Minho's hands trembled as she pressed them to her mouth, trying to stifle the sobs that threatened to spill out. The realization that her entire world had been a lie was devastating, but beneath the sorrow, a new emotion flickered, growing hotter by the second—anger. The way they had spoken, so casually discussing the destruction of her village and the lives lost as if it was nothing more than a political maneuver, enraged her. Her life, the lives of her family, reduced to nothing more than a pawn in their imperial power struggle. It made her blood boil. Minho didn't understand all the intricacies of what had happened, but she knew one thing for certain: her Brotherhood had been used, betrayed by the very leaders they trusted. Minfe and Dao were traitors who cared nothing for them—only for their own hidden objectives. Tears continued to stream down Minho's face, but her sorrow was now mixed with a burning fury. As the night wore on and the moon slowly descended, exhaustion finally overcame her, and she drifted into a restless sleep, her mind clouded by anger and grief. When the first light of dawn touched the horizon, the world seemed indifferent to the chaos and tragedy that had unfolded. The lush green forest was bathed in golden light, the morning sun casting long shadows across the land. But the thick, dark smoke still lingered in the sky, rising from the spot where her village had once stood, a grim reminder of the destruction that had occurred while the world continued to turn. Minho woke with a start, her body sore and her mind still reeling from the previous night's revelations. She knew she had to return to the village, to see for herself what had happened. Maybe, just maybe, there were survivors. The risk was great. Greenwood bandits could still be patrolling the area but she couldn't just sit here, hiding away in the cave. Determined, she made her way to the large tree in the cave's open chamber. She carefully opened her bag, checking to make sure the black mirror was still intact. The soft moss she had packed around it had done its job, there were no cracks or damage. Relieved, she buried the bag under the thick roots of the tree, hoping it would remain safe until she could return. The mirror was an artifact, something she didn't fully understand, but she knew it was valuable, perhaps even dangerous. Once the mirror was safely hidden, Minho walked to the small stream behind the tree. The water was clear, cold, and refreshing, most likely coming from a river or glacier high in the mountains. She splashed her face, washing away the grime and blood from her wounds as best she could with the few supplies she had. The cool water soothed her aching body, but it did little to ease the turmoil in her mind. Finally, she made her way to the entrance of the cave, her senses heightened as she stepped into the forest. Every snap of a twig, every rustle of leaves put her on edge. She moved cautiously, sticking to the shadows, hiding behind trees and bushes every few steps, her eyes constantly scanning for any sign of the Greenwood bandits. Suddenly, the sound of a twig snapping nearby startled her. Her heart leaped into her throat, but she forced herself to stay calm. Slowly, she turned, expecting to see one of the bandits lurking in the trees. But it was only a squirrel, darting across the forest floor, oblivious to the tension in the air. Minho exhaled a shaky breath, relief washing over her as she continued her journey, always cautious, always alert. Hunger gnawed at her, but she ignored it, focusing on her goal. She was close now, just a few meters away from where her home had once stood. The smell of smoke still lingered in the air, a bitter reminder of what had happened. As she crept through the underbrush, her eyes landed on a small clearing where a lone berry plant stood, its bright red fruit stark against the green foliage. The sight of it made Minho pause, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The irony was not lost on her. During their foraging trips, she had always run off, trying to find berries, but she never had any luck. And now, when she longed for nothing more than to return home, to her Brotherhood, she had finally found them. But she couldn't go home. Her Brotherhood was gone, reduced to ash and smoke. And the berries, once a source of excitement and delight, now seemed like a cruel joke. Minho knelt down, plucking a few of the berries and eating them slowly. The sweet taste filled her mouth, but it brought no comfort. With each bite, the reality of her situation sank in deeper. Her world was shattered, her people lost. But as the bitterness of the berries settled on her tongue, so did her resolve. After finishing the berries, Minho stood and began walking again, her mind elsewhere. Distracted, she didn't notice what lay before her and tripped over something. It wasn't a rock or a tree root, but something softer. She quickly scanned her surroundings, her heart racing as she crouched low, fearing someone might have heard her stumble. After a moment of silence, she knelt to see what had caused her fall. Her breath caught in her throat. There, half-concealed by the bushes, was a body. Minho's stomach turned, and her blood ran cold as she realized who it was. The pale skin, the familiar face—it was Sister Yang. Her body lay motionless, stripped bare, bruised and lifeless. "Sister Yang…" Minho whispered, her voice trembling as she knelt beside the body. Her hands hovered over the cold skin, afraid to touch, afraid to accept the truth. Tears welled up in her eyes and began to spill uncontrollably as she gently placed her hands on Sister Yang's lifeless form. It didn't take long to piece together what had happened. The Greenwood Bandits had found her, violated her, and left her to die in the forest. Minho's tears fell freely as she hugged Sister Yang's body, pulling it close as if her warmth could somehow bring her back. Her sorrow was deep, but beneath it burned an even fiercer flame of anger. The rage in her heart, fueled by the injustice and cruelty, surged with every passing moment. She sobbed quietly, her body shaking as she clung to her fallen sister. For what felt like hours, Minho stayed there, crying until her tears could no longer fall. Slowly, she rose to her feet, wiping her tear-streaked face. The anger that remained gave her strength as she looked around. She couldn't leave Sister Yang's body to rot in the open. She deserved dignity, even in death. Minho gathered branches and leaves from the nearby trees and fashioned a makeshift shovel. It was crude, but it would have to do. She worked tirelessly for hours, her hands raw and aching as she dug a grave deep enough to protect Sister Yang from animals. The dirt was hard and unyielding, but Minho pressed on, each stroke of the shovel filled with determination and sorrow. Once the grave was dug, she gently rolled Sister Yang's body into it. Minho stood over the grave, her heart heavy but her spirit resolute. She carefully covered the body with dirt, patting it down until the mound was smooth. Kneeling at the freshly turned earth, Minho closed her eyes and clasped her hands together in prayer. "I swear to you," she whispered, her voice hoarse, "as long as there is blood in my veins, this night will not be forgotten. Those responsible will pay." With that vow lingering in the air, Minho stood, brushing the dirt from her hands. Her legs were weak, her heart bruised, but her resolve was unshakable. She looked toward the direction of the village, knowing that whatever awaited her there, she would face it with the strength of her fallen sister behind her. Without another glance at the grave, Minho resumed her journey toward the village. The air grew thicker with the smell of smoke as she walked, the scent of charred wood and death overwhelming her senses. She climbed over small hills and navigated the rugged terrain, her steps slow but steady. As the remnants of the burnt-down village came into view, a wave of numbness washed over her. She could see the ruins of her home, littered with the bodies of her brothers and sisters from the Thunder Sky Brotherhood. There were no Greenwood Bandits left to guard or patrol the area—they had done their damage and moved on. Minho's eyes took in the destruction, but her heart remained hollow. She had shed too many tears already, and now there was nothing left. No more sorrow, no more pain, only a haunting emptiness that consumed her. She walked through the village in silence, her eyes skimming over the faces of the fallen. Each one was a familiar figure—friends, comrades, people she had laughed with, trained with, and fought alongside. Now, they lay motionless, their eyes closed in eternal stillness. She wanted to scream, to cry out for them, but all she could do was walk among them like a ghost. After what felt like an eternity, Minho finally found Brother Yuan's body. He lay there, his eyes half-closed, his once strong and protective form now lifeless. Minho stood before him, staring down at the body of the man who had been like an older brother to her. But no tears came, no expression crossed her face. Her eyes were dull, her emotions drained, as if her soul had been wrung dry. She just stood there, staring blankly at Brother Yuan's body. She didn't know how long she stood like that—minutes, maybe hours. Time had lost all meaning to her. The world was quiet, except for the faint crackle of smoldering wood in the distance. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps broke the silence. Her body reacted before her mind could catch up, her instincts sharpening in an instant. She whirled around, holding up the sharp piece of red-colored glass, gripping it like a makeshift weapon. Her hands trembled slightly as she pointed the jagged edge toward the source of the sound, her heart pounding in her chest. The red glass reflected the faint light, glinting like a shard of blood-stained ice. Minho's gaze was sharp now, her senses returning as survival instincts kicked in. Her breath hitched, and she waited—her body tense and ready to strike if necessary.Read 12+ Advance Chapters and Daily Chapter Updates by becoming a Patron
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