Wang Mengyu watched the figure of Li Mufan fade into the distance, her brow furrowed in thought. After a moment, she sighed softly and spoke, "Your Majesty, the territory outside the city is not part of the kingdom. If we rashly pursue him, it could lead to misunderstandings with the elves. We don't have any good options right now."
Li Haotian gritted his teeth, frustration boiling within him. "One day, I will personally cut off Li Mufan's head!" he vowed, his eyes burning with rage.
Wang Mengyu regarded him with a measured expression. "Your Majesty, I see that this man has changed. He has escaped time and again, showing both courage and cunning. His planning and decision-making are no longer what they once were. This escape feels like a roc taking flight, a dragon freed from the sea. He may very well find a way to break through."
Li Haotian's expression darkened at her words. "Oh? Do you regret your earlier decisions?"
Wang Mengyu smiled gently, shaking her head. "I never regret my choices. Your Majesty is far more talented and wise than him; otherwise, he wouldn't have fled in such a panic."
"Mengyu is just considering that since things have come to this, perhaps we should let him go. First, he might grow careless, and second, we can gauge his intentions. Let's see what he does next. The territory outside is all elven land. As long as we keep tabs on him, we can adjust our tribute when the kingdom pays its dues next year..."
"Exactly!" Li Haotian replied, a cunning glint in his eyes. "No matter how strong the rebels are, they can't match the elves. We can use their strength against them. Why should we worry about Li Mufan?"
Li Haotian was no fool; he quickly grasped the implications of Wang Mengyu's plan. He sneered, "Come, let's see my brother off."
"Retreat! Retreat quickly! Head toward Yixianxia!" Liu Long commanded the guards with urgency.
The sound of hooves thundered in the distance, and Liu Long squinted into the haze, finally spotting a familiar figure—a knight in a red cloak, galloping towards them. Relief washed over him.
He hurried to Li Mufan's side and clasped his fists in greeting. "Your Majesty, General Fan has come to pick us up."
Li Mufan nodded. "Good. Let's retreat to Yixianxia as per our plan."
Moments later, Fan Qingyue arrived, leading fifty soldiers from the personal guard and trailing more than two hundred war horses behind her.
Upon entering the city, Li Mufan instructed Fan Qingyue to disguise her men as horse dealers to discreetly move the war horses out of sight, avoiding attention after their fierce battle. The arrival of fresh troops and mounts was a much-needed boost, alleviating the exhaustion that had weighed heavily on them all.
"Fan Qingyue pays respect to Your Majesty!" she declared, leaping from her horse and kneeling before him.
Seeing Li Mufan covered in blood but uninjured eased the tension in her chest.
"Please rise, General Fan," Li Mufan replied. "Is the ferry I requested prepared?"
A blush crept onto Fan Qingyue's cheeks. "I went to find a ferry, as you instructed. I located several idle elven fishing boats at a dock on the Yuncang River. I tried to buy them with gold, but—"
"But what?" Li Mufan prompted, his expression growing serious.
Fan Qingyue continued, "The elves refused to trade with us. So, I cut down trees by the river and constructed dozens of bamboo rafts."
Li Mufan sighed, admiration flickering in his eyes. "You've done well. The elves are notoriously arrogant. One day, I will show them our true strength."
After a brief pause, he turned to Liu Long. "It's unwise to linger here. Gather the wounded and let's head for Yixianxia."
However, Liu Long hesitated, his expression troubled, as if he wished to voice something but held back.
"What's wrong?" Li Mufan asked, sensing his unease.
Liu Long lowered his gaze, his voice barely above a whisper. "Your Majesty, more than ten brothers have sacrificed themselves..."
Li Mufan's voice rose in anger. "Liu Long, I ordered you to get the wounded on the horses! Did you not hear me? Follow the order!"
"Yes!" Liu Long responded, his voice ringing with resolve. He lifted his gaze to meet Li Mufan's, and for a fleeting moment, he glimpsed the sadness simmering just beneath the king's stoic facade, the mist of emotion clouding his eyes.
"Your Majesty..." Fan Qingyue murmured softly, feeling the weight of grief that hung in the air.
In that moment, the soldiers of the Royal Guard Battalion, each one a survivor of the recent battle, shared an unspoken bond. They felt a profound love for their king, a deep sorrow that resonated throughout their ranks.