Real Mount and Blade Game

The village of wood elves has been transformed into a fiery hell.

Smoke billowed, mixed with the acrid smell of burning, and flames devoured the ancient trees and the ruins of wooden houses like venomous snakes.

On the main road on the north side of the village, Yang Di, Zhang Song, and Zhang Bo were being surrounded by more than ten wounded wood elf sword dancers as they stumbled toward the ancient treehouse in the center, which resembled an apartment building.

The Khergit heavy archers of Deherme had locked onto them, and sharp arrows rained down like a storm, tearing through the air with a whooshing sound, each arrow taking the life of a guard.

Zhang Bo's face was deathly pale, and his throat was so dry that he couldn't make a sound.

Yang Di's one hand gripped his arm like an iron clamp, while the other held a blood-dripping dagger—Zhang Song's blood.

Just now, Zhang Song turned around to order the Wood Elf Sword Dancers to cover their retreat and buy them time.

But everything happened too fast.

A twisted madness flashed in Yang Di's eyes, and suddenly he raised his hand and brought the knife down!
With a muffled "thud," the short knife pierced Zhang Song's right thigh root precisely, and blood gushed out, splattering onto the burning fallen leaves, where it was instantly licked into black smoke by the flames.

"what--!"

Zhang Song let out a suppressed roar of pain, lost his balance, and stumbled to the ground.

He curled up on the cold ground, clutching his badly injured thigh, blood gushing from between his fingers, soaking through his robes and mixing with the mud to form a glaring crimson stain.

Zhang Bo witnessed this scene and was so shocked that he froze.

His pupils suddenly contracted to the size of pinpoints, his breathing stopped, and his heart felt as if it had been pierced by an ice pick.

"No, it's impossible!" he muttered to himself, his voice hoarse and broken.

In that instant, Yang Di's cold words came, like a venomous snake slithering into his ear:

"Zhang Song! Hold off these mounted archers for me! I saved your life! I also gave you this position at Green Leaf Group! Now, it's time to pay back—use your blood to buy me this little bit of time!"

Yang Di's voice was hoarse and resolute, without the slightest hesitation.

He didn't even glance at Zhang Song on the ground; his gaze was fixed on the large treehouse in front of him, as if it were his last hope for a comeback.

Zhang Bo felt a chill run through him instantly.

A chill ran from the soles of his feet to the top of his head, freezing his blood vessels, and he felt as if his internal organs were being crushed by the ice.

He had never imagined that Yang Di's ruthlessness would be so blatant.

Yang Di, who has always valued integrity and loyalty, and the leader he once revered as a god, is now using "gratitude" as a knife to cut his own flesh.

His eyes suddenly turned red.

It wasn't the crimson of anger, but the scarlet of despair; blood vessels spread like a spider web, and tears welled up uncontrollably in his eyes.

The world distorts in my vision: a burning village, Zhang Song lying on the ground, the cold-blooded Yang Di... everything seems so absurd!

Zhang Song struggled to lift his head, not looking at Yang Di, nor at Zhang Bo.

Those eyes, which were always wise and calm, were now filled with nothing but thick, lifeless ashes.

His eyes were bloodshot, and tears streamed down his face silently, mingling with the blood and scorched dust on his face, before falling to the ground and turning into mud.

With trembling hands supporting him on the ground, he forced himself to kneel up on one knee, his voice hoarse as if squeezed out from the depths of hell: "Yang Di, I understand. I will repay this kindness."

He whirled around and roared at the five remaining wood elf sword dancers, "Brothers! Cover our retreat! Buy time for Lord Yang Di! Kill—"

The roar was shrill and mournful, filled with a resolute determination to die.

A guard tried to help him up, but Zhang Song pushed him away with a palm strike.

He didn't draw his knife, but just let the blood gush from his thigh, as if this body no longer belonged to him.

Zhang Bo's pent-up anger finally erupted.

The care Zhang Song had given him over the years, the comfort he had given him late at night, and the open and hidden attacks he had shielded him from within the Green Leaf Group—all these scenes flooded his mind.

The sight before him drove him mad!
He abruptly broke free from Yang Di's grip, pointed at Zhang Song, who lay on the ground, utterly despondent, and began to hurl insults, his voice hoarse and strained with rage:
"Yang Di! You beast! Open your dog eyes and look at him—Zhang Song! How many years has he risked his life for you? He's bet his life on you! Look at the blood he shed, his heart is broken, and you still have these bullshit acts of gratitude? Can gratitude be repaid with a life?!"

He turned to Zhang Song, tears streaming uncontrollably down his face: "Brother Song! Wake up! This bastard stabbed you like trash and dumped you here! Does he deserve your life? Bah! Does he deserve it?! Think about it—how have you treated him all these years? You've carried the Green Leaf Group through every step of the way! Do you remember? That year when the pig-headed men from the diesel company attacked, you took three blows for him! In the very beginning, when resources were scarce, you shared your share of spirit food with him! You're a fucking idiot! How could he do this to you?"

Yang Di grabbed Zhang Bo's wrist with such force that he almost crushed the bones, his cold smile revealing a chilling calculation: "Zhang Bo, you traitor, what right do you have to speak? If we don't stop these mounted archers, we'll all die! The grand plan is ruined. The ancient tree is right there! I need this opportunity to turn the tide!"

He glanced around; the sound of the Kujit horses' hooves grew closer, and arrows rained down like locusts.

A wood elf guard fell, shot through the throat, but Yang Di ignored him, only dragging Zhang Bo along: "Zhang Song is willing to repay, that's his debt of gratitude! You traitor, shut up! If you say another word, I'll bleed you dry too!"

Hearing Zhang Bo's angry roar, Zhang Song's tears flowed even more fiercely.

He slowly raised his tearful eyes, took one last look at Zhang Bo, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, but said nothing.

Under the pressure of Yang Di's orders, he was like a walking corpse, and said in a low hoarse voice to the remaining guards, "Don't worry about me. Charge into the cavalry!"

The guards howled in grief and anger, drew their scimitars, and charged at the pursuing mounted archers.

A bloody battle erupted instantly—

The rear guard formed a meat grinder, with horse archers' arrows and scimitars tearing through the air.

Zhang Song remained kneeling in the pool of blood, motionless, staring blankly at the burning sky with a heart ashen with despair.

Taking advantage of the situation, Yang Di grabbed Zhang Bo, kicked aside a pile of sawdust blocking their path, and dragged Zhang Bo wildly toward the shadow of the treehouse.

Zhang Bo stumbled as he was pulled, and turned to look in Zhang Song's direction.

Zhang Song's frail figure swayed amidst the rain of arrows, tears mingling with blood as he slid down his cheeks, like an abandoned stone sculpture.

The Khergit horse archers' horses surged past like a tide, Zhang Song's voice drowned out by the battle cries: "Apo. Run. See tomorrow for me." His whispers were broken, his figure obscured by the shadows of his warhorses. And there were the human horse archers, their scimitars and spears raised high.

"Brother Song!"

Zhang Bo's bright red tears finally fell.

His heart, like the burning village, was completely reduced to ashes.

But Yang Di's hand, stained with Zhang Song's blood, gripped Zhang Bo's wrist like a branding iron, dragging him like a dead dog towards the shadow of the treehouse.

Burning sawdust stung my face, and the whistling of arrows from the Khergit horse archers behind me was like the breath of death.

Zhang Bo staggered, his gaze fixed on the shrinking figure in the pool of blood—Zhang Song, leaning on his knife, knelt in the sea of ​​fire, motionless as arrows grazed his ears, only his tears mixed with blood flashing glaringly in the firelight.

"Brother Song—!" Zhang Bo's roar was trapped in the thick smoke, his throat feeling like it was being torn apart.

"Save your energy for running away, you traitor!" Yang Di's sneer pierced his eardrums like an ice pick: "If it weren't for you, how could the Green Leaf Group have ended up like this?!"

"I am not a traitor!"

Zhang Bo abruptly broke free from the bloodied hand, his bloodshot eyes practically spitting fire. "Yang Di! Ask yourself honestly—when have I, Zhang Bo, not risked my life for the Green Leaf Group?!"

Yang Di didn't stop, and grabbed his arm tightly with a force that felt like he was going to crush bones: "Risking your life? Is it risking your life to keep failing at every step of the grand plan? Are those 'coincidences' on the city wall also risking your life?!"

Zhang Bo was pulled so hard he stumbled, and the loose stones cut his knees, but he couldn't suppress the volcanic grievances raging in his chest.

He stared at Yang Di's profile, illuminated by the firelight.

The face he once swore to follow to the death is now nothing but a grotesque, manic expression.

He suddenly erupted with a roar that had been building up for a long time: "The city wall warning was a coincidence?! The prophetic spell I risked my life for was used to harm you?! That night, when there were no soldiers on the east wall, you didn't attack, but when there were soldiers, you attacked! And what about you?! You hid behind the decapitation squad, not daring to show your face! Where were you when the heavy cavalry charged in? Were you scheming how to use Zhang Song as a shield?!"

Yang Di's pupils constricted sharply, but his dragging motion became even more violent: "Shut up! If you hadn't warned me beforehand, Shen Mu would have been dead in the main building long ago—"

"What do I care if the ambush at the main building fails!" Zhang Bo laughed maniacally, choking on the smoke, but his laughter was more shrill than crying. "Do you really think Shen Mu is a fool? He saw through the decapitation team's movements long ago and that's why he hid in the main building! I risked the backlash to predict the 'unknown crisis' to distract the guards, wasn't that creating an opportunity for you?! But the decapitation team didn't even get to the main building's door before they were blocked in the passageway—that's because you're useless! It's not because I betrayed you!"

A rocket grazed Yang Di's scalp as he slammed Zhang Bo against a charred tree stump.

Zhang Bo gasped for breath, his fingernails digging into the scorching charcoal, blood and tears burning streaks down his cheeks.

"As for reinforcements... Ha! You're blaming Shen Mu for the timely arrival of reinforcements?"

He suddenly grabbed Yang Di by the collar, his words dripping with venom: "You said it yourself during the negotiations that night! 'Deherim doesn't care about conditions at all, surrender or be destroyed, choose one!' It was your unwillingness to admit defeat! It was your delusion to use the ancient tree to turn the tide that brought about this catastrophe! And now you have the nerve to pin the blame on me?! Yang Di! If you had just listened to Zhang Song's advice to 'quit while you're ahead,' would we have been wiped out?!"

A flicker of hesitation crossed Yang Di's eyes, but it was quickly overwhelmed by a deeper ferocity: "It's all about the victor and the vanquished! Once we're inside the treehouse and awaken the ancient tree—"

"Fuck your ancient tree!"

Zhang Bo elbowed him away, then pointed at the dying figure swaying in the rain of arrows in the distance and howled, "Zhang Song is still kneeling there, shielding you from arrows! He's bleeding almost dry and still remembers your kindness! Yang Di, tell me!"

His voice suddenly choked, and a deep despair ripped through his bloodshot eyes. "Am I risking my life to serve a ruthless hero, or a venomous snake that sucks the blood out of its brothers and then kicks them into the fire?!"

Zhang Bo's questioning was like a sharp blade piercing through Yang Di's last remaining rationality.

Looking at the "traitor" in front of him, who was once regarded as a confidant but now looked disappointed and angry, Yang Di's resentment, frustration and overwhelming hatred for the destroyed foundation instantly broke through his pretense.

The Wood Elf village trembled amidst the whistling of arrows and the crackling of burning, as the hoofbeats of Khergit horse archers drew near like a death knell.

"Shut up! Trash!"

Yang Di roared, interrupting Zhang Bo's accusations. His distorted face contorted like a demon in the flickering firelight. "Without your self-righteous 'warning,' Shen Mu would be dead long ago! It was you who misled my blade time and time again in Deherem's castle!"

With his last glimmer of hope shattered, Yang Di realized that only death remained between them.

Rather than letting this uncontrollable, or even potentially "betray" you again, hinder your journey to the ancient tree, it's better to personally sever all shackles!
The furious decision was made in the blink of an eye. There was no longer a trace of hesitation in Yang Di's eyes; the ruthlessness forged in blood and fire completely took over his mind and body.

Taking advantage of Zhang Bo's momentary shock at Zhang Song's near death, he gripped Zhang Bo's shoulder blade tightly with his left hand like an iron clamp, while his right arm unleashed all the power he had been holding, violently raising the bloodstained dagger he had been clutching, which then transformed into a cold arc of light—

puff!

The blade pierced Zhang Bo's left chest with precision and cruelty!

Warm blood gushed out instantly, staining Zhang Bo's wide-eyed eyes in astonishment and Yang Di's blood-stained and frantic wrists.

The excruciating pain and the suffocating feeling of impending death instantly gripped Zhang Bo. He stared in disbelief at the knife hilt embedded in his chest, then looked into Yang Di's eyes, which were burning with the flames of destruction and devoid of any humanity.

"Uh...uh..." Broken syllables escaped from his throat, and Zhang Bo's body went limp uncontrollably, his life force rapidly draining away with the gruesome wound on his chest.

At that moment, he finally saw Yang Di's true colors.

This is not a "tyrant" at all, but a viper who would not hesitate to sacrifice anyone for survival or a false chance to turn the tide!
"Go to hell, you idiot! Take your 'loyalty' and feed it to the dogs!"

Yang Di roared and mercilessly pulled out his dagger. Blood gushed out like a fountain, splattering onto his contorted face.

He didn't even bother to glance at Zhang Bo, who lay slumped in the dust, his pupils beginning to dilate; only one thought occupied his mind.

Rush into the treehouse!
Awaken the ancient tree!

Only the existence of that residing plane's power can turn the tide for him and make those damned Shen Mu and Deherim pay a bloody price!
"Anyone who stands in my way will die!"

He roared, like a caged beast breaking free of its cage, kicked away Zhang Bo's limp body, and wildly slashed at non-existent obstacles with his short knife stained with the blood of the two of them, running towards the ancient treehouse that stood silently like a giant beast in the center of the fire and slaughter.

He took only one thing with him—the dagger stained with Zhang Bo's heart's blood, as if this blood could be the final sacrifice needed to awaken the ancient tree.

Behind him lay the dying Zhang Bo, the mangled body of Zhang Song about to be engulfed by the iron hooves of the Khergit, and the burning, wailing, and destruction-bound Wood Elf village.

Yang Di's silhouette twisted and stretched amidst the towering flames, like a final, frenzied plunge into an endless abyss. (End of Chapter)