*Chapter 60: The Unbroken Wall**
The morning after the Flame Emperor's emissary retreated, the village woke to the clang of hammers and the hiss of quenching steel. Li Tian stood atop the partially rebuilt watchtower, surveying the landscape. The snow had melted, revealing patches of scorched earth where the emissary's retinue had burned the fields as a parting gift. Below, villagers hauled timber and stone, their faces set in grim determination.
Meiying climbed the ladder, tossing him a waterskin. "Haran's got the east wall crew working double time. Lira's diverting the river to flood the trenches. And Lin—"
"—is supposed to be tending the herb garden," Li Tian finished, spotting the boy sneaking toward the forge with his star-iron dagger.
Meiying smirked. "He's got your stubbornness."
"And your recklessness."
A shout echoed from the northern ridge. One of the scouts—a wiry teenager named Jiro—sprinted into the village, breathless. "Riders! Flame Emperor colors!"
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**The First Test**
The riders numbered five, their armor less ornate than the emissary's retinue but no less menacing. They halted beyond arrow range, their leader—a bald man with a branded forehead—holding aloft a scroll sealed with crimson wax.
"Li Tian of the Ashen Village!" he bellowed. "The Flame Emperor, in his mercy, grants you one final chance to kneel!"
Li Tian emerged from the gates, Meiying at his side, her bow half-drawn. "Your mercy is wasted. Leave."
The rider unfurled the scroll. "By refusing the Emperor's grace, you forfeit his protection. All trade routes through your territory are now under Flame Emperor control. Caravans that bypass us will burn."
Meiying's arrow thudded into the ground at his horse's hooves. "Next one goes through your throat."
The riders withdrew, but the threat lingered like smoke.
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**The Rebuilding**
Li Tian's refusal had cost the village its tentative alliances. Blackridge Town's envoys stopped coming, fearing Flame Emperor reprisals. The wandering healer, Fen, vanished, leaving behind a hastily scrawled note: *"Silent Citadel's guardian stirs—beware the shadows."*
Undeterred, the villagers doubled their efforts:
1. **The Wall**: Haran's crew reinforced the north face with star-iron shards, their jagged edges glinting wickedly.
2. **The Moat**: Lira's water adepts diverted the river into a defensive channel, its currents strengthened by rudimentary qi arrays.
3. **The Forge**: Lin, under Old Yuna's supervision, melted down salvaged weapons to craft arrowheads and caltrops.
"They'll come at night," Meiying predicted, sharpening her blade. "Burn the fields, poison the wells."
Li Tian nodded. "Then we'll be ready."
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**The Militia's Trial**
At dusk, Li Tian gathered the militia in the square. Twenty-three faces stared back, their qi still raw but resolute.
"The Flame Emperor will test us," he said. "Not with armies at first—with fear. Raids. Sabotage. They'll chip away until we crack."
Haran hefted his mallet. "Let them try."
Li Tian's staff struck the ground, activating a hidden array. The air shimmered as illusionary bandits—spectral figures conjured from the Core's residual energy—materialized.
"Defend the granary," he ordered.
The militia scattered. Lira's water tendrils tripped the first wave, while Haran's earth spikes impaled others. Lin darted between shadows, his dagger flaming. Meiying picked off stragglers with lethal precision.
An illusionary fireball struck the granary. The militia faltered.
"Again," Li Tian commanded.
They drilled until midnight.
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**The Stranger's Gift**
A week later, a hooded figure slipped into the village at dawn, leaving a crate at the gates. Inside: medicinal herbs, bundled steel rods, and a map etched with Flame Emperor outposts.
Meiying inspected the goods. "No poison. No traps. Just... help."
Li Tian studied the map. "The Ash Hawks."
The crate bore their sigil—a dagger piercing a flame. Rivals of the Flame Emperor, seeking to exploit the village's defiance.
"Allies?" Lin asked.
"Sharks," Meiying corrected. "They'll want payment eventually."
Li Tian stored the map. "We'll use their gifts. Not their lies."
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**The Flame's Shadow**
The attacks began subtly. A half-built wall collapsed overnight, its supports sawed through. A well turned brackish, its water tainted with bitterroot.
Meiying tracked the saboteurs to a nearby thicket, returning with a bloodied knife and a grim report. "Flame Emperor scouts. Two dead. One escaped."
Haran kicked the corpse. "Sending rats instead of warriors. Cowards."
"Testing our vigilance," Li Tian said. "And our patience."
That night, he stationed lookouts in rotating shifts and seeded the perimeter with Lin's caltrops.
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**The Unseen War**
Weeks passed. The village thrived under siege.
- **The Fields**: Lira's qi-infused irrigation revived scorched crops, yielding a harvest of frost-resistant barley.
- **The Forge**: Lin's star-iron arrows pierced dummy targets at 100 paces.
- **The Militia**: Haran's earth barriers could now withstand a charging bull.
Yet the Flame Emperor's shadow loomed. Scouts circled nightly, their torches flickering like malevolent fireflies.
"They're waiting," Meiying said, oiling her bowstring.
"Let them wait," Li Tian replied.
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**The Calm**
On a rare quiet evening, Li Tian found Lin sparring with Jiro in the square. The boy's dagger flared, singeing Jiro's sleeve.
"Again!" Lin demanded.
Li Tian watched, offering corrections. "Angle the blade up. Qi follows intent, not force."
After, Lin lingered. "Will they ever stop coming?"
Li Tian gazed at the horizon. "No. But neither will we."
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**The Storm Approaches**
At dawn, Jiro scrambled down from the watchtower, his face pale. "Smoke—north ridge. Lots of it."
Li Tian climbed to the platform. A column of black smoke spiraled skyward, miles distant but thickening.
Meiying joined him. "Caravan attack?"
"No." Li Tian's grip tightened on his staff. "Signal fires. They're mobilizing."
The Flame Emperor's patience had ended.
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