The narrow pass had become a slaughter chute.

  Black troll blood soaked the ground, turning the dust into sticky mud. Bodies piled in heaps — soldier trolls with heads severed, giants with crushed skulls, limbs scattered like broken branches.

  The Azure Fan disciples fought in perfect coordination, their sect techniques flashing in bursts of indigo qi.

  Gray and Tamemoto held the flank, breathing hard, bodies aching from the strain.

  But the horde kept coming.

  More trolls poured in from the west — another wave, larger than the last. Their roars shook the high walls, claws scraping stone, red eyes glowing in the dust cloud. The pass was holding, but the pressure was building. The disciples were tiring. Gray’s arms burned from blocking claws.

  Tamemoto’s fingers were raw from drawing his bow.

  Lian Wei fought at the center, thin sword a blur. He glanced back at Gray, voice cutting through the chaos.

  “Can you still fight?”

  Gray nodded once. His chest heaved, but his grip on the curved blade stayed firm.

  Lian Wei extended a hand. Gray took it, letting the disciple pull him to his feet.

  “Work with Shen Huo at the front,” Lian Wei said. “We need to hold.”

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  Gray shook his head. “No. Let me fight from the rear.”

  Lian Wei’s eyes narrowed in surprise. “Why?”

  Tamemoto stepped up beside Gray, bow still in hand. He nodded at Lian Wei — a silent confirmation.

  Gray spoke low, urgent. “Trust me. Give us space at the back. My brother and I will provide support from there.”

  Lian Wei hesitated for half a heartbeat. Then he nodded sharply.

  “Fine. Take the rear ledge. We’ll hold the choke.”

  Tamemoto spoke up, voice steady despite the exhaustion in his eyes.

  “After my arrow bolts run out, I’ll fight in the vanguard. I only have twenty left.”

  Gray looked at him — surprised, but not shocked. Tamemoto had grown. His aura was stronger, his movements surer. Gray knew his brother could hold the front line better than he could right now.

  Gray gave a single nod. “Do what you can.”

  Lian Wei shouted to the group. “Get the ears and resources while we hold! It won’t be long before the next batch arrives!”

  The disciples moved — cutting troll ears, stripping hide and claws, stuffing them into sacks. Gray and Tamemoto fell back to the rear ledge — a higher outcrop overlooking the pass. From here, they could see the entire choke point: Lian Wei and the others forming a wall, blades flashing, chains whipping, polearms sweeping.

  Gray crouched low, knife ready. Tamemoto nocked an arrow, breathing steady.

  The trolls surged again.

  Gray watched his brother draw the bow — the string taut, shoulders square, aura faintly coating his arms. Tamemoto loosed. The arrow flew true, taking a troll in the eye. The creature roared and fell.

  Another arrow. Another kill.

  Gray felt a quiet pride — but also a sharp pang. His brother was ahead of him now.

  Then the sound came — faint footsteps from behind.

  Gray’s head snapped around.

  From the east, a small group was approaching — six figures, moving fast along the ridge. They wore dark cloaks, weapons drawn. Not trolls. Not the Azure Fan Sect.

  Gray’s grip tightened on his knife.

  Tamemoto noticed too. He lowered his bow slightly, eyes narrowing.

  The footsteps grew louder.

  Gray whispered, “Ready?”

  Tamemoto nodded.

  The world was closing in.

  And they were ready.