xymnovel Chapter 4 1 Days
Chapter 4 1 Days
At daybreak, the Northern Di people came up.
Not five hundred—it's all of them. Three thousand people.
Shen Bai stood atop the mountain, gazing at the sea of people. The crowd surged upwards from the foot of the mountain, like a bucket of water being poured down, a dense, endless mass. Knives gleamed in the sunlight, appearing in patches, like silver needles scattered across the mountainside.
"Damn it." Shen Bai cursed inwardly.
Three thousand people.
Three hundred men against three thousand.
How the hell am I supposed to fight this?
---
By noon, they had lost thirty men.
The mountain path was narrow, allowing only thirty people to pass side by side at a time. Waves of Northern Di people charged uphill, then wave after wave hurled stones down. When the stones ran out, they used knives. When the knives were dulled, they used their fists. When their fists were broken, they used their teeth.
Shen Bai had lost count of how many people he had smashed.
All he knew was that he knocked down one, and another one came. He knocked down another, and another one came. Blood splattered on his face, sticky and thick, like someone was smearing mud on his face.
His hands were ashen. His knuckles ached. The pain ran from his palms all the way to his chest, all the way to the arrow shaft.
It's unusable now.
If you use it again, you will eat it again.
But he couldn't stop.
The Northern Barbarians are still there.
He gripped the stone tightly in his hand and hurled it down. He hurled it down again.
---
By the afternoon, they had lost seventy men.
Of the three hundred people, only two hundred and thirty remained. More than two out of ten people died.
Shen Bai squatted on the edge of the cliff, panting heavily. The arrow shaft in his chest throbbed with each heartbeat, each throb a sharp pain, as if someone were hammering his ribs.
He looked down at his hands.
My hands were grayish-white. My knuckles were cracked, like dry clay cracking.
Iron Shield lay beside him, the strip of cloth on his left arm completely red, almost black, with blood seeping down. His face was covered in blood, indistinguishable between his own and someone else's.
"Reinforcements—" Shen Bai asked, "Are reinforcements coming?"
Iron Shield remained silent.
"The message sent out while crossing the river—will reinforcements arrive?"
Iron Shield remained silent.
Shen Bai looked down the mountain. The Northern Di people were still climbing up, wave after wave, like water that never seemed to run out.
Zhou Lie said he would arrive before sunset.
"The sun hasn't set yet."
The iron shield pointed at the sun in the sky. The sun was high and bright on the mountaintop, like an eye looking down.
"There is one hour left."
---
One hour.
They had to keep watch for an hour.
But they only had 230 left. The Northern Di people still had more than 2,000.
Zhou Lie stood atop the mountain, a knife in his hand. His back was covered in blood, indistinguishable between his own and someone else's. Zhou Lie hacked and slashed. He felled one, then another appeared. He felled another, then another appeared.
Zhou Lie's knife was bent.
Zhou Lie picked up a stone from the ground. Not to smash—but to chop. To chop with a stone. To grip it with his hand.
The Northern Barbarians are still there.
Shen Bai stood up.
He saw that Zhou Lie was surrounded.
Three men surrounded Zhou Lie from three directions, slashing downwards with their knives. Zhou Lie used stones to deflect one, then another, but the third struck him in the back.
Zhou Lie fell.
But as Zhou Lie fell, someone rushed towards Shen Bai.
A northern barbarian, wielding a knife, flanked Shen Bai from the side, aiming the blade straight for his head. Shen Bai saw it—but it was too late to dodge.
Then Zhou Lie got up from the ground.
Zhou Lie lunged at him.
Zhou Lie blocked the knife with his body.
The knife struck Zhou Lie in the chest.
Blood spurted from Zhou Lie's chest and sprayed onto Shen Bai's face; it was hot and thick, like someone was pouring a bucket of water on his face.
Shen Bai squatted down. Zhou Lie collapsed in front of him.
Zhou Lie's eyes were still on him. The light was fading, fading away, like a lamp going out.
Ten years ago—
Zhou Lie's lips were moving. Blood flowed from the corner of his mouth, onto Shen Bai's hand; it was hot and thick.
Shen Bai pressed hard on the wound, and silver light flowed across his hand.
"Stop talking."
"Ten years ago—your father—"
Zhou Lie's lips curled into a smile. A smile that was bitter. A smile that was astringent. Like a bitter gourd splitting open.
"Your father used it his whole life. In the end, it became—"
Zhou Lie's lips were moving. But no sound came out.
Shen Bai looked at Zhou Lie's face. His face was covered in blood, making his features indistinguishable. But Shen Bai recognized the face.
Then he saw the person behind Zhou Lie.
The Northern Barbarian was still standing. He held a knife in his hand, the blade dripping with blood. He watched Zhou Lie fall, a smug smile on his face, as if he had killed a dog.
Shen Bai removed his hand from Zhou Lie's wound.
He stood up.
He looked at the man.
That person was looking at him too.
Shen Bai's eyes were red. Not from crying—but from blood. Blood was gushing into his eyes, making it impossible for him to see anything.
He extended his left hand.
Light shot out from his palm.
Passing through that person's chest.
The person stopped moving. Their eyes were still open, but nothing was inside them anymore. Like a lamp blown out by the wind.
Then Shen Bai squatted down and picked up Zhou Lie.
Zhou Lie's hand fell to his sides.
---
Shen Bai held Zhou Lie's body.
Zhou Lie's blood was still flowing out, onto Shen Bai's hands, onto the ground, and into the cracks in the rocks. It was warm. Thick. And still steaming.
Zhou Lie is dead.
He died trying to save him.
Shen Bai thought of his father.
His father died in the reeds, just like that—using his body to shield him, exchanging his life for his. His brother did the same.
Then there was Iron Shield. Iron Shield's arm was broken, but he was still standing next to him.
Then it was Zhou Lie's turn. Zhou Lie blocked the knife with his chest.
Four people.
All three of them died for him.
He recalled what Zhou Lie had just said.
"In the end, it became—"
What will it become?
It turned into coke.
---
Shen Bai put Zhou Lie's body down.
He stood up.
He looked down the mountain.
The Northern Barbarians are still coming. They come in waves, like water that never runs out.
He looked down at his hands.
My hands were grayish-white. My knuckles were cracked, like dry clay cracking.
Then he clenched his fist.
He can't be used anymore. If he is, he'll turn to charcoal. Like his father. Like his brother.
But he gripped it tightly.
He couldn't watch them die any longer.
He has to do something.
He extended his left hand.
The arrow shaft in his left chest twitched with his heartbeat and lit up.
Then light burst out of his fist.
A pale silver light, like a bolt of lightning, passed through the people below the mountain. It passed through one, through two, through three—
The first one fell. The second one fell. The third one fell.
Shen Bai stood on the mountaintop, watching those people fall.
He clenched his fist tightly. And clenched it even tighter.
The light shot out again. Another one fell. Another one. Another one.
Blood was surging upwards. It was flowing into his eyes. Shen Bai's eyes were red. Not from crying—but from bloodshot eyes. Blood vessels burst from the whites of his eyes, like a red net covering his eyeballs.
He saw the Northern Di people charging up the mountain with their swords raised.
He saw the men of the Liubai Camp fall one by one.
He saw Zhou Lie's body lying on the mountaintop, blood still flowing out.
He clenched his fist. Clenched it even tighter.
The light shot out again and again. Again and again.
More and more people fell. But people kept coming up behind them. An endless stream, like a bucket of water that could never be poured out.
He heard someone calling him.
It was very far away. Very blurry. It sounded like it was coming from underwater.
"Chen Bai!"
"Chen Bai!"
Someone was calling him, but he couldn't hear them.
He could only hear his own heartbeat. Slow. Heavy. Like something was pressing down on him.
Then he saw a Northern Di person.
The man stood in front of him, holding up his knife, and slashed down.
Shen Bai raised his left hand.
Light shot out from his palm.
Passing through that person's chest.
That person fell down.
But there are many more people behind them.
Shen Bai's eyes turned even redder; he couldn't see anything clearly. He only knew he was hitting. Smashing. Killing. Using light beams.
He can't stop.
The light shot out again and again. Again and again.
He can't stop.
His eyes were blind. He was covered in blood. His fingers were cracking, like dry clay cracking. His chest was burning, as if something was exploding inside.
The arrow shaft was trembling. It was shining. It was being drawn.
He could hear his own heartbeat. Slow. Heavy. Like something was pressing down on him.
Then he heard footsteps.
It's not just one person's. It's many people's. It surges up from the foot of the mountain, like water that never stops flowing.
The Northern Barbarians are still there.
He extended his left hand.
Light seeped through his fingers, as if something was burning in his bones. He tried to clench his fist, but his fingers could no longer straighten.
He used it too many times.
He didn't know what he would become.
All he knew was—
Then everything went black before his eyes.
I don't know anything anymore.
---
(End of Chapter 4)