Elegy of the Fallen

At the Yixian Gorge, aptly named for the narrow canyon between two towering cliffs, the mighty Yun Cang River surged through, cascading down hundreds of meters to the plains below, nourishing countless lives.

Standing on the plains not far from the gorge, Ronald gazed at the breathtaking waterfall formed by the river's plunge, lost in a whirlwind of thoughts.

"Your Majesty, the fallen soldiers have been buried," came Fan Qingyue's soft voice, pulling him from his reverie. He turned to her and asked, "How are they?"

In a hushed tone, she replied, "Thanks to Brother A Qiang's medicine, many of our comrades are recovering. Only eighteen could not be saved…"

"Understood. Notify everyone to gather here," he commanded.

"Yes, Your Majesty…"

Half a stick of incense later, Ronald looked at the over two hundred soldiers standing before him, silence enveloping the air for a moment before he spoke, his voice solemn: "Of my Red Fir Guardian Legion of one thousand brothers, only two hundred and thirty-seven remain. In this chaos at the palace, we have lost nearly eight out of ten. What have I done to deserve such loyalty from you all?"

Liu Long immediately knelt on one knee, his voice ringing clear. "Your Majesty, there's no need for guilt. Protecting you is our mission, and to sacrifice ourselves for you is our honor!"

Glancing at Liu Long and the soldiers, Ronald sighed. "I understand your intentions. You are the finest warriors in the kingdom, but I am no longer a king…"

"Your Majesty…" The crowd gasped, dropping to their knees in unison.

Zhang Tie shouted, "Your Majesty, do not lose heart! Even if we die, we will return to the royal city and help you reclaim your throne!"

The soldiers echoed his sentiment, urging, "Please reconsider, Your Majesty!"

Looking at the kneeling warriors, Ronald felt a surge of emotion, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Seeing Ronald's hesitation, Liu Long grew anxious and shouted, "If Your Majesty abdicates, we will kneel here until the end!"

The soldiers raised their voices again. "Please reconsider, Your Majesty!"

Silence fell, heavy and thick.

After a long pause, Ronald finally spoke. "I am deeply grateful for your loyalty. However, my identity as king is in the past. From now on, if you don't mind, just call me 'Young Master.' There's no need for such formalities."

"Uh…" The soldiers hesitated, unsure. Liu Long and Zhang Tie exchanged glances, wanting to speak, but Ronald waved his hand, asserting, "It's settled. We shall no longer refer to our past identities. Everyone, please rise."

Seeing the soldiers remain still, Ronald shot Liu Long a fierce glare.

Feeling the intensity, Liu Long snapped to attention and announced, "Thank you, Your Majesty…"

The crowd chorused, "Thank you, Your Majesty…"

"You all…" Ronald smiled wryly, recognizing their stubbornness. It wasn't that he rejected his role as king, but the title had become too sensitive. If word got out, the Sun Moon Kingdom would never let him go, and even the seemingly dead Yun Qin Empire would come after him. In that case, it was better to lay low for now. Once he gained strength, claiming his throne would be effortless.

Shaking his head with a bitter smile, his expression hardened. "Liu Long, take the soldiers to bid farewell to our eighteen brothers!"

"Yes!" Liu Long turned and bellowed, "Fall in!"

The soldiers quickly stowed their sadness and, according to their training, formed four neat lines.

"Present arms!"

With a synchronized movement, every soldier raised their swords high, staring ahead at the eighteen graves by the riverside.

In the air, a haunting military horn sounded, not a call to charge, but a somber lament, a farewell to fallen comrades…

The mournful notes echoed over Yixian Gorge, bringing tears to the soldiers' eyes. Ronald stepped to the front of the formation, gazing at the eighteen honored graves. In a low voice, he proclaimed, "I, Ronald, could not lead you to victory in life, but I will not allow you to become lost souls in death."

Receiving a bouquet of white flowers from Fan Qingyue, he slowly approached the graves, gently placing each flower before them.