The morning mist in Bianjing has always been gentle, like a veil, floating in the morning light, adding a bit of hazy poetry to this ancient capital. But at this moment, the fog outside the city is as thick as ink that cannot be dissolved, weighing heavily between the sky and the earth, making it hard to breathe. Lin Feng sat firmly on the saddle, holding the reins tightly with both hands, and his joints turned white due to the force. The warhorse under his crotch seemed to sense danger and pawed its hooves uneasily. The dust raised by its front hooves flew out half a foot and was instantly swallowed by the mist, as if it had never appeared, leaving no trace. Behind him, twelve elite soldiers were neatly arranged in a goose-shaped formation, and the steel knives out of their sheaths flashed with cold light, but this cold light was just a faint bright spot in the thick fog, and it could not dispel the suffocating and oppressive atmosphere that permeated the surroundings.
"Captain, this fog is not right." Deputy General Chen Wu approached Lin Feng and said in a low voice, his tone full of vigilance. The blade in his hand was condensed with fine water droplets. Under the fog, it was shrouded in a strange blue-gray color, as if it was stained by evil forces. "Half an hour ago, the sky was clear, how come it suddenly." Before he finished speaking, a shrill scream came from a distance. The sound was distorted and sharp, like the last roar of a demon strangling the throat. It echoed back and forth in the fog, and it was hard to tell where it came from. It seemed that the source was everywhere, and it seemed to be very close. The scream startled everyone's horses and they neighed one after another. The horses' hooves pawed the ground restlessly, and the splashed mud and water instantly disappeared in the fog.
Lin Feng raised his hand, signaling the team to stop. His fingertips subconsciously rubbed the fragment of the Qingming Mirror in his arms. Ever since he knew about the intricate, fateful bond with Lin Wanqiu in the Golden Camp, the fragment often became hot, as if it had a life, reminding him of some secret things. At this moment, the fragment was as hot as an iron, and the burning pain could be felt through the clothes. Lin Feng took a deep breath, trying to distinguish the direction from the damp and sticky mist. As his nose trembled, a faint scent of peach blossoms entered his nose - that was Lin Wanqiu's unique scent, with a hint of mystery in the quietness, adding a bit of mystery to this strange foggy environment.
Without any warning, the fog suddenly surged violently, just like boiling water, with layers of fog waves hitting and rolling against each other. Lin Feng's pupils shrank suddenly, and his eyes were fixed on the front. He saw the scene of Qingtian Village slowly emerging in the fog. The old locust tree at the entrance of the village was once a place where villagers could enjoy the coolness and chat in the summer, but now it was full of corpses. The bodies swayed gently in the breeze, the ropes were deeply tied into the neck, the faces were distorted, and the death was miserable. The ancestral hall not far away was burning fiercely, and the fire reflected the night sky red. The beams and pillars could not bear the heavy load in the raging fire and collapsed with a loud bang, splashing a spark. The villagers struggled in the flames, their distorted faces were looming in the light of the fire, and the desperate shouts seemed to penetrate the fog and go straight into Lin Feng's ears. "Don't touch it!" Lin Feng reacted very quickly, shouting, and at the same time reached out to pull the new recruit Zhao Mantun who was about to touch the illusion. The young man was confused and had not yet realized the danger. As soon as his fingertips touched the mist, he froze instantly as if he had been cast into a spell. His pupils contracted sharply, reflecting his severed head. His neck seemed to have been cut by a sharp blade, and blood mist gushed out, instantly dyeing the surrounding mist a glaring scarlet.
"This is an illusion! Close your eyes!" Lin Feng screamed at the top of his lungs, but his voice seemed to be kneaded and pulled by an invisible hand in the thick fog, and dissipated in pieces. He hurriedly pulled off his clothes and covered his eyes, trying to isolate himself from this terrible illusion. But at this moment, a familiar chuckle came from his ears. The laughter was crisp but chilling, like the cry of a night owl. "Wan. Wanqiu?" Lin Feng's voice trembled, and his lips trembled slightly. The fragment of the Qingming Mirror in his hand seemed to sense his emotions and vibrated violently. The black air seeping out of the cracks and the fog intertwined with each other, like two fighting venomous snakes, emitting waves of ominous breath. What responded to him was not Lin Wanqiu's answer, but Chen Wu's desperate roar: "Brother Zhao! Why are you."
Lin Feng's heart tightened, and he suddenly pulled off the blindfold. The scene in front of him made him feel horrified. He saw that the steel knife in Zhao Mantun's hand had pierced Chen Wu's chest, and blood flowed along the blade, staining Chen Wu's armor red. The boy had a strange smile on his face, but on his neck, there were claws of the fox demon. The blood marks were shocking, and the skin and flesh turned outward, as if telling of the erosion of some evil force. "Captain, save me." Zhao Mantun seemed to wake up suddenly from a nightmare, tears welled up in his eyes, and his voice was crying, "I saw my mother, she said." Before he finished speaking, an invisible force suddenly attacked, Zhao Mantun's head was twisted off in an instant, and a column of blood rushed up from his neck. The head drew an arc in the air and rolled to Lin Feng's feet. In the boy's pupils, there was still unexpressed fear and desire for life. He stared at Lin Feng, as if asking him for help.
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In the mist, there was a sound of chains being dragged, which was dull and harsh, as if it came from the abyss of hell. Lin Feng turned around suddenly and saw countless black shadows shuttling through the mist at a very fast speed, leaving only a series of blurred afterimages. Looking closely, those figures were wearing the armor of the Song army, but their limbs were twisted beyond human form. Some of their arms were bent in the opposite direction, and some of their legs were twisted at strange angles. There was empty darkness in their eye sockets, without a trace of life, like zombies. "They are all soldiers who have been transformed by the blood moon." Lin Wanqiu's voice came from above his head, like a ghost whispering. Lin Feng looked up and saw a woman in red floating above the mist, like a demon descending to the world. The dragon horn on her forehead emitted a faint light, dyeing the mist below into a strange blue-purple color. The light flickered and jumped in the mist, as if it would swallow everything at any time. "This fog formation is to trap the Jin army." Lin Wanqiu added, his voice cold and without a trace of emotion.
"What about these civilians and soldiers?!" Lin Feng was extremely angry. He raised the blood-stained sword in his hand, pointing the tip of the sword directly at Lin Wanqiu. His voice trembled with anger, "You said you would protect the people, but how many people have died because of you?!" In his mind, the smiling face of Zhao Mantun flashed uncontrollably. The simple and honest boy who always said that he would save money for his mother's medical treatment, has now become a cold corpse, lying forever in this fog.
Lin Wanqiu's eyes flickered with a trace of hesitation, as if Lin Feng's words had struck a string deep in her heart, but in an instant, she regained her coldness, as if that trace of emotion had never appeared. "Those who achieve great things do not care about trivial matters. Bianjing's fate has run out. Even if reinforcements arrive, it will only add more dead souls." Her tone was flat, as if she was stating an established fact. She raised her hand and waved it gently, and the illusion of Bianjing being breached suddenly emerged in the mist. The Jin army's iron cavalry surged like a tide, the sound of horse hooves shook the earth, and the sharp long swords flashed cold light in the sun. Under the impact of the iron cavalry, the city gate collapsed with a bang, raising a cloud of dust. The people were panicked and knelt down to beg for mercy, but the Jin army was merciless. The long swords fell, and the blood flowed into a river, dyeing the streets and alleys of Bianjing red. Lin Feng's temples throbbed as he watched this scene. The burning sensation from the fragments of the Qingming Mirror became increasingly intense, making it almost impossible for him to hold the hilt of the sword. The anger and despair in his heart burned like a raging fire.
"You're lying!" Lin Feng roared, rushing towards Lin Wanqiu desperately, wanting to ask her why she was so indifferent to life. But the moment he touched the corner of Lin Wanqiu's clothes, a powerful invisible force suddenly bounced him away, and his body fell heavily to the ground like a kite with a broken string. The mist seemed to have life, and instantly turned into countless tentacles, entangled his limbs. The tentacles were cold and wet, and the touch was like the fingers of a rotten corpse that had been soaked for many days, sticky and disgusting, with a smell of decay. Lin Wanqiu slowly floated in front of him, and the dragon horn on her forehead almost touched his forehead. She looked down at Lin Feng with a complicated look in her eyes. "Look behind you." Lin Wanqiu said coldly.
Lin Feng turned his head with difficulty, and saw that the remaining ten soldiers were in a frenzy at the moment. Various illusions appeared on their faces. Some cried out their wives' names to the air, their voices were sad, and tears flowed freely on their cheeks; some had red eyes and swung their knives at non-existent enemies, and the blades cut through the air, making a sharp whistle. "This is the weakness of the human heart." Lin Wanqiu's voice echoed in the mist with a hint of sarcasm, "Fear, desire, and regret are all keys to open the illusion."
"Stop!" A sense of determination surged in Lin Feng's heart. He bit his tongue, and the smell of blood instantly spread in his mouth. The stinging pain made him sober for a short time. He endured the pain in his body and pressed the fragment of Qingming Mirror to his chest. The blue light on the fragment spread along his blood vessels, like a blue flame, burning in his body. With the support of this force, he forcibly dispelled the mist tentacles wrapped around his limbs and stood up shakily. "Even if Bianjing is destined to be destroyed, I will try my best." He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, his eyes were firm, anger was burning in his eyes, he looked directly at Lin Wanqiu, and said word by word, "And you are no longer the dragon spirit who protects the people that I saw in the mirror."
Lin Wanqiu was silent for a moment, and did not respond to Lin Feng's accusation. The dragon horn on her forehead shone brightly, blinding people. The surrounding mist was pulled by the force and began to spin rapidly, forming a huge vortex. "In this case, let's test your determination." Her figure gradually became transparent, and her voice became farther and farther away. "Remember, when you walk out of the formation, the fate of Bianjing may have changed."
As she disappeared, the fog began to slowly recede, like a tide. Lin Feng looked at the bodies of his comrades on the ground, his vision blurred by tears. He slowly bent down and picked up the letter that Zhao Mantun had dropped. On the yellowed paper, it was written crookedly: "Mother, I will go home after this battle." In the distance, the sound of the Jin army's trumpet was faintly heard, the sound was low and suppressed, like a countdown to death.
