Chapter 15: Raymond's Wrath

Below the cliff, the night wind howled like a beast.

The enemy camp flickered with torchlight. In the center of the valley, armored knights patrolled around a temporary command tent. The deputy commander of the Knights Templar, Armand de Frois, stood tall as a fortress—broad-shouldered, silver-braided, and cloaked in crimson. His armor gleamed coldly, adorned with eagle feathers and engraved with the Holy Sword crest. His eyes, gray as storm clouds, were devoid of warmth.

They called him the Eagle Wing Butcher—Raymond's most ruthless swordsman, a survivor of the Crusades.

He stared silently at the mangled bodies from the prior night, then muttered, "Dog-born assassins... Let's see where you crawl off to next."

In the shadows beyond the forest edge, the five members of the Shadow Blade Squad crouched in wait.

"Mu Rong and Rocky—set rope traps on the western edge. Bai, take to the trees in the south. Xie Hong, block the retreat," Li Song ordered, his voice low and sharp.

He wore a gray traveling cloak, the Dog Blade strapped to his waist, a Wind Slash double blade across his back, and a Silent Snake Dagger at his ankle.

"Our target is Armand. Tonight, we cut him down—and Raymond's war engine will stagger."

They nodded silently, then vanished into the fog.

When the Tiger Hour struck, the winds howled harder.

Xie Hong moved first—toppling a firepit with a roar and knocking down two guards with a sweep of his staff.

"They're in the woods! Ambush—!"

Before the alarm could echo, Bai had already scaled a towering pine and loosed three arrows. Each one found a throat—messengers silenced, coordination severed.

Armand responded instantly. "Form ranks!"

He vaulted into his saddle, drawing the famed Cangyu Greatsword, a massive silver blade that sliced the air like a falling star. He struck at Xie Hong with terrifying precision.

Xie Hong blocked with his shield, but the blow dented the iron and forced him back.

Just as Armand prepared to finish him, Mu Rong darted in from the flank. Her hook coiled around his sword wrist in a maneuver called "Locked Vulture Cloud Flip."

But Armand snapped the line with brute strength and countered with a crushing elbow. Mu Rong caught it but was thrown back, spitting blood.

"You rat-borne skirmishers..." he snarled, eyes blazing.

Bai fired again—first pinning his foot, then nicking his cloak—deliberate disruptions to slow him.

Rocky emerged from behind a supply cart, shooting a rear guard through the neck and then launching a rolling boulder that bowled over two lieutenants.

In that moment, Li Song surged from the darkness.

With a low stance and terrifying speed, he unleashed his signature move—Soul-Severing Three Strikes.

The first stroke deflected the greatsword.

The second struck the throat.

The third arced upward, slicing through Armand's rib armor.

Steel cracked. Blood sprayed.

Armand roared, retaliating with a sweeping slash, but Xie Hong intercepted it. The clash forced the earth itself to quake.

"Now!" Li Song bellowed.

Mu Rong drove her dagger into the bend of Armand's right knee.

Rocky's hook wrapped around his waist.

Bai's arrow struck his left shoulder.

Li Song dashed in again, both hands gripping the Dog Blade, and brought it down with crushing force—cleaving through the Holy Sword crest on Armand's chest, shattering his armor.

In a final act of desperation, Armand drew a short spear and lunged sideways. But it was too late.

"Fall."

Li Song's blade pierced his throat.

Armand de Frois fell, eyes wide, armor crashing into the snow.

Silence.

From a high ridge, Raymond watched the fires rising from the Eagle camp.

For the first time, anger cracked his icy calm.

"Armand... has fallen?"

He turned to the crimson-cloaked knight beside him.

"Deploy the true Holy Emblem Army."

"Yes, General."

That night, the valley drowned in blood. Raymond burned with rage. The borders seethed.

And the Shadow Blade Squad vanished once more—into a deeper darkness.