The forest was deathly still, cloaked under a heavy shroud of mist.Each step taken by the retreating Twelve Stars was accompanied by the sound of crunching ash, of shattered earth underfoot.Their bodies, battered and bloodied, blended into the darkness like fleeting shadows.
They had managed to escape the massacre of the village, but they paid an unbearable price.Wounds tore across their bodies; limbs dragged with effort; blood dripped with each breath.
Miexing pressed one hand tightly over a gash on her side, her palm slick with her own blood.Her other hand still clutched her sword, the blade cracked and dulled from the earlier clashes.Every movement felt like knives gouging into her muscles, yet she remained silent, forging forward with unbending will.
Behind them, in the burned ruins of the village, the monstrous silhouettes of the demon generals loomed like immovable mountains.Though they did not pursue immediately, the oppressive pressure of their existence still weighed heavily on the Twelve Stars' shoulders.
In the suffocating silence, the soft hum of the Starstones flickered faintly.Miexing glanced down at her own stone —Its once-brilliant gleam had dulled to a wavering, sickly light.Others' stones were worse — some blinking weakly, some already beginning to darken at the edges.
A visible symbol of their exhaustion.And a silent warning: they could not endure much longer.
At the rear, First Star stumbled slightly.His shoulder was still bleeding heavily where the demon general's blade had struck him, and even his indomitable strength seemed near its limit.Yet he forced himself upright, shielding the retreat from behind, his silver spear dragging lines through the ash and mud.
"Keep moving," he growled, voice hoarse but commanding. "Do not stop."
No one answered.There was no need.They gritted their teeth and pressed on, driven by pure instinct — the will to survive, to not fall here meaninglessly.
Far above, hidden behind layers of clouds and shadows, the Celestial Lord silently observed.His gaze swept over the bloodied children he had shaped with his own hands.Even he could not deny the tightening of his chest —
The Starstones, his proud Twelve Stars, were dimming.
A single mistake now could snuff out their fragile lives.They were still far from ready to face true demon generals.
The Celestial Lord's fingers twitched slightly, hidden under the folds of his robe.He could intervene.He could crush the demon forces with a single wave.
But he did not move.
Because he knew — if they could not survive this, they would never be strong enough for what was to come.And if they could, the blood and pain they shed today would forge weapons sharp enough to change the future.
Down below, the Twelve Stars finally found a small cliffside hollow, half-collapsed and hidden by dense vines.Without a word, they staggered into the cover it provided, collapsing against the rock walls, their chests heaving for air.
Miexing slid down into a crouch, pressing her forehead against the cool stone.Her vision blurred and cleared, blurred again.She could feel her heart pounding against her ribs like a trapped bird.
"We need... to heal..." murmured Ninth Star, voice almost inaudible.
First Star nodded grimly.But they all knew —Healing would take time they did not have.
Because deep in the forest, the demons were already reorganizing.The generals' bloodlust was palpable, rolling across the night like a tide of doom.
Miexing lifted her gaze, eyes reflecting the dim light of the stars.There was no fear in them.Only cold determination.
She would not die here.None of them would.
In the distance, a low roar echoed through the mist, vibrating through the bones of the earth.The final battle was coming — whether they were ready or not.
And when it did...Miexing swore she would carve a path through the darkness with her own hands.