The night air was heavy with the st of blood and charred wood, the remnants of battle lingering like a specter over Pine Vilge. The once-familiar streets were stained red, littered with the fallen—both friend and foe.Feiyin stood amidst the wreckage, his fingers curled tightly around the hilt of his saber, his knuckles white. The battle was over, but victory was o be found.Jiang Hu moved through the battlefield with a grim expression, ting the bodies one by owelve militia dead. Three vilgers. Sixteen wounded.” His voice was hoarse, the weight of eaumber pressing against the hearts of those who heard.The bck-clothed invaders, however, had lost more than twice that number—yet their deaths brought no relief. The vilge had suffered, and for what?No answers. No clear reason.Only loss.Cai Feng exhaled sharply, his gaze sweeping over the fallen enemies. He crouched down, pulling at the dark robes of one of the corpses, searg for anything—anything—that might reveal who they were, who had sent thevery body was stripped of identifying markers, their ons unmarked, their armor pin. Even their faces were mostly cealed, making it difficult to determine where they might have e from.Jiang Hu clicked his tongue in frustration. “No insignias. No dots. Not even a damn pouch.”Cai Feng stood, his bde still in hand. “They po die from the beginning.”The realizatioled in the air like ash.Their enemies had no iion of retreating, no iion of leaving anyone alive to speak. That meant this wasn’t a simple raid for resources.They were testing the vilge.Or warning it.Feiyi a cold shudder run through him. He didn’t know who these people were, but he could feel their lingering presence—even ih.The osciltions of the world trembled around him, an echo of the violehat had takehe remnants e, fear, and pain g to the air like invisible threads, vibrating in disharmony.The vilge was wounded.And he could feel it.His mother’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. “Burn the bodies.”The surviving militia members nodded grimly, gathering the corpses of their fallen enemies into a pile. Dry hay and oil-soaked cloth were thrown onto the heap.Cai Feng did not hesitate.He lifted his hand, and with a flick of his bde, a trolled spark of Qi ighe pile.The fmes roared to life, ing the bodies in moments, sending thick bck smoke curling into the sky.No prayers. No rites.These men did not deserve such things.The air turhick with the stench of burning flesh, but no ourned away. They watched in silence as the fire did its work, their eyes refleg the flickering fmes.But even as the enemy bodies burhe true tragedy remaihe vilgers.The men who had fought and died not as warriors, but as fathers, as sons, as brothers.And now, it was time to bury them.

  The graveyard behind the vilge was quiet, save for the sound of shovels digging into the earth.The militia worked without speaking, sweat mixing with dried blood on their faces as they dug one grave after another.Feiyin stood at the edge of the field, his gaze fixed on the freshly dug graves, his fiwitg at his sides.There were too many.Beside him, Sun Ke sniffled, his normally bright face pale and sullen. “I—I saw Old Man Zhou fall.” His voice wavered. “He was… trying to shield his son.”Feiyin swallowed, his throat tight.Zhou Wen, the bcksmith, had been a kind man. He had o Feiyin watch him fe a horseshoe, expining how heat and pressure shaped metal, just like hardship shaped men.Now, he y beh the soil.Gone.One by ohe bodies of the fallen militia and vilgers were lowered into the graves, ed in simple cloth. The families stood in silence, some with tears streaking their faces, others too numb to cry.A woman colpsed to her knees, clutg the lifeless hand of her husband before he was lowered into the ground. Her sobs pierced the air, raw and broken.A child, no older than five, stood clutg his mother’s robes, staring bnkly at the grave that would soon hold his father.Feiyin watched, his heart twisting painfully.He could see their grief, but worse—he could feel it.The osciltions of the world shuddered, grief thid suffog, like a song pyed out of tuhing was in harmony.Everything was wrong.His mother moved through the gathered crowd, her face calm, but her hands gentle as she helped bahe wounded. She worked with practiced efficy, yet every so often, Feiyin noticed the subtle way her fiightened around the bandages—as if she, too, was holding something back.She was strong.But even she could not erase the pain that had settled over the vilge.Cai Feng stood with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable, but his presence aloeadied the others.Jiang Hu spoke, his voice gravelly with exhaustion.“They died proteg their home.”He looked at the remaining militia members, his gaze sharp and unwavering.“This vilge still stands because of them. Because of all of you.”His words held weight, but they did little to ease the ache in Feiyin’s chest.The graves were filled, oer another, until the ground was smooth once more.But nothihe same.Pine Vilge had survived, but it had lost pieces of itself.—The hours stretched on, the weight of sorrow pressing heavier with each passing moment. No one spoke as they tinued w, their grief maing in the rhythmic sounds of shovels meetih, of quiet sobs carried by the cold night wind.The st of the bodies were buried, and still, no ohe st of blood, fire, and damp soil g to the vilge like an unshakable shadow. Feiyin’s hands ached from helping where he could—bringing water, handing out bandages, steadying those who were too weak to stand alone. But the ache in his chest far outweighed the strain on his limbs.As the hours dragged toward dawn, exhaustioled over the vilge like a heavy fog. But no oed.They worked through the night, tending to wounds, patg damaged homes, dragging away debris, trying—desperately—t a sense of normalcy back to what had been shattered.Feiyin moved as if in a trance, watg, listening, feeling.The vilge pulsed with a deep, ag sorrow, the osciltions of grief and exhaustion vibrating in discord. Each voice, each breath, eaent—all of it carried the weight of loss.His mother had barely taken a moment to rest, her hands steady but her face drawn. She ed the wounds of the injured with practiced efficy, but Feiyin could see the flickers of sadness in her eyes.His father stood in silence, surveying the remains of what was oheir home, his expression unreadable but his presence as solid as stone.Jiang Hu moved with purpose, issuing quiet orders to the remaining militia, his voice steady despite the grief ced within it.Sun Ke, despite his wound, still helped carry the injured where he could, his usual mischievous glint repced with quiet determination.The sun had yet to rise, but the sky began to shift—the deep bck of night slowly giving way to muted shades of gray.And then—The first rays of light pierced through the horizon, washing over the vilge in hues of gold and soft pink.Feiyin lifted his gaze, watg as the warmth of dawn kissed the broken rooftops, the bloodstaih, the weary faces of the vilgers.The night was finally over.But the scars it left behind would never fade.Pine Vilge still stood.Wounded, grieving, but alive.Feiyin took a slow breath, his small hands ched tightly at his sides.The light illuminated everything—the sorrow, the struggle, the resilience.His heart pounded with a quiet, unshakable resolve."One day…""I will be strong enough to protect them.""Strong enough to ehis never happens again."As the vilge breathed in the m light, Feiyin made a silent promise.And for the first time sihe battle ended, his gaze held not just grief—But determination.