Since the first battle, many more followed. But the peasants had a strong will to win since they were caught in between a rock and a hard place. And so, they did, each time aided by the mysterious arrows.
But then Lord Kol arrived, leading a squadron of elite guards on cybernetic steeds, their plasma lances glowing red.
Before his arrival, his machine-ninjas already wrecked several villages, looking for revenge on an archer that killed their brothers quietly in battles. Rumor had it that they were successful. Confucious was bleeding in his heart when he heard this, and he prayed hard for Lila’s safety.
“Kill them all!” he shouted, riding into the crowd, his lance impaling a peasant.
Confucius nocked an arrow, aiming for Kol’s steed. The arrow hit its leg, sending Lord Kol crashing to the ground. But as the noble stood, he drew his silver bow, firing an arrow that grazed Confucius’ arm.
“Got you, peasant,” Lord Kol sneered, nocking another arrow.
Confucius didn’t hesitate. He fired, his arrow hitting Kel’s bow, splitting it in two. Kel stared at the broken weapon, then at Confucius, his face turning purple.
A machine-ninja snuck up behind Kel, raising its blaster. “Traitor,” it droned. “Lord Vex Ji ordered your execution for failing to stop the rebellion.” The blast hit Kel in the back, sending him crumpling to the ground.
By dawn of the third day, the square was quiet. The machine-ninjas lay in heaps, their circuits fried. The defecting guards stood with the peasants, their blasters lowered.
But Confucius felt no victory—only the weight of the dead: 300 peasants, 50 guards, even a few children caught in the crossfire And most importantly, no more mysteriously aided arrows to help the peasants.
Mara placed a hand on his shoulder. “They died for something. For us.”
He shook his head, staring at his bloodied hands. “Is this what the scrolls meant? Freedom through bloodshed?”
The Guru, who’d arrived at first light, stepped forward. “Freedom through action. Sometimes blood is the cost. But never forget—you fought to protect, not to conquer.”
A messenger ran into the square, breathlessly. “This battle will anger Lord Vex Ji’s. He is probably sending his main army in a few weeks, perhaps within two to three weeks. Estimated around 10,000 soldiers. By the way, we heard that the secret archer is still alive, escaped from the machine-ninjas, badly hurt though. Someone saved the person but was lips tight regarding the whereabout.”
Confucius closed his eyes, thinking of Taren’s hologram, of his mother’s last words, of the Nine Li Scripts. When he opened them, his voice was steady. “Then we prepare. Not to fight. To resist.”
He turned to the crowd, raising his bow. “Lord Vex Ji thinks he can crush us. But he forgets—we are many. And we are unafraid.”
The peasants cheered, their voices echoing across the plains.
Somewhere, in the depths of his fortress, Lord Vex Ji watched the hologram of the square, his fingers tightening around a scroll—the last surviving copy of the First Sage’s original manifesto under Vex family custody, taken from his great-grandfather’s vault. His lips curled into a snarl. “Fools,” he muttered, his voice low enough that only the machine-ninja beside him—a tall figure with a face of polished obsidian—could hear. “They think a mob with pitchforks can challenge me.”
The machine-ninja inclined its head, its voice a digital monotone. “Shall I deploy the neutron cannons, my lord? Y-Zone Prime can be reduced to ash in 10 minutes.”
Lord Vex Ji waved a hand, dismissing the idea. “No. I want them to see what happens to traitors. March the army through the square at noon. It has been three to four weeks since Lord Kol fought the last battle. Way too long. We have to give them another attack. Let the peasants watch their rebellion burn. And bring me the archer—‘Kai. (Confucius fake name)’ I want him alive. To watch.”
Confucius stood, scanning the square. The peasants had built barricades from overturned carts and stacked crates; their faces set with grim determination. Children huddled in cellars, while elders passed out what little food remained—dried nutrient orbs, hard as stones.
Back in Y-Zone Prime, the sun climbed higher, casting long shadows over the square. Confucius knelt beside a peasant girl, pressing a bandage to her arm where a blaster bolt had grazed it. “Stay with your mother,” he said, smiling gently. “We’ll keep you safe.”
Mara appeared beside him. “The scouts spotted the army. They’re about fifty miles out. Tanks, plasma artillery, and a war droid—the Colossus.” She added, “Somehow, it seems the secret archer has recovered and tried to create chaos along the way for the army. However, the impact was minute because he seems to lost his accuracy and energy, perhaps not fully recovered. We heard he is captured again.”
She continued assuming the archer was a man without thinking it was a woman, let alone that it was Lila, “This time he would probably die as Lord Vex Ji and his capable guards would not let him live after torturing him”. That sentence reflected how cruel Lord Vex Ji could be towards his enemies and anyone standing in his his way.
Confucius’ jaw tightened. Firstly, about The Colossus—a 50-foot-tall machine with a hull of reinforced steel, its arms fitted with chain guns and a plasma core—was Lord Vex Ji’s most feared weapon. It had leveled three villages in the past year alone.
Secondly, he has to accept the fact that Lila would not survive this time.
“Gareth’s rigging the western bridge to collapse,” His general added, reading his expression. “But the Colossus can wade through the river. It won’t stop it.”
“The scrolls,” he said suddenly. “The Nine Li Scripts. They’re not just words. The Guru said the First Sage encoded quantum energy into the ink. If we gather them in the square… focus their power…”
Mara’s eyes widened. “You think they can stop the Colossus?”
“I think they’re our only chance,” he said, sprinting toward the hut where the scrolls were hidden—three in his satchel, three retrieved from the tomb, all glowing faintly as if sensing the urgency.
A few days later, the ground trembled. The army was visible on the horizon: a black tide of soldiers, tanks with treads that crushed boulders, and at the rear, the Colossus, its head swiveling as it scanned the village.
Lord Vex Ji rode at the front, perched on a cybernetic elephant with tusks of plasma. Behind him, a cage hung from the elephant’s back—empty, waiting.
Confucius stood in the center of the square; the six scrolls spread before him on a stone pedestal. Gareth, Mara, and 20 peasants formed a circle around him, their hands on the scrolls, channeling their energy as the Guru had taught them.
“Remember the words,” Confucius said, his voice loud enough to carry over the rumble of the army. “‘Unity is strength. Knowledge is light.’”
The peasants repeated the phrase, their voices rising in a chorus. The scrolls began to glow brighter, their characters lifting into the air, swirling into a vortex of blue light.
Lord Vex Ji’s elephant skidded to a halt 100 yards from the square. “What sorcery is this?” he barked, reaching for his blaster.
The Colossus took a step forward, its chain guns whirring to life. Confucius locked eyes with the machine, then nodded at Gareth.
“Now!”
Gareth pulled a lever, triggering a hidden mechanism beneath the square. Metal spikes erupted from the ground, piercing the Colossus’ legs, slowing it but not stopping it. The war droid roared, firing a plasma blast that melted a barricade, sending splinters flying.
But the scrolls’ vortex had grown, a swirling dome of light that expanded to cover the entire square. When the Colossus’ next blast hit it, the energy bounced back, hitting the droid’s chest. It staggered, its core flickering.
“Fire again!” Lord Vex Ji shouted, but the Colossus didn’t move. Its head tilted, as if confused, then it collapsed to one knee, its systems frying.
The peasants cheered, their voices drowning out the soldiers’ shouts. Lord Vex Ji’s face turned red with rage. “Charge! Kill them all!”
The soldiers advanced, but the vortex of light surged outward, knocking them off their feet. Confucius felt the scrolls’ power flowing through him, hot as plasma, and he raised his quantum bow, nocking an arrow wrapped in a fragment of the First Sage’s text.
“For Taren!” he shouted, releasing the arrow. It sailed through the air, trailing blue light, and struck Lord Vex Ji’s elephant in the shoulder. The beast reared, throwing Lord Vex Ji to the ground, his robes tearing as he hit the dirt.
A group of defecting guards—their uniforms marked with the Water District’s symbol—surrounded Lord Vex Ji, their blasters pointed at his head. “It’s over,” said a former peasant with a scar across his cheek.
Lord Vex Ji spat; his eyes locked on Confucius. “This isn’t the end, archer. The Vex name will rise again.”
Confucius shook his head, the scrolls’ vortex fading as the peasants lowered their hands. “No. It won’t. Not while we remember.”
That night, after a few days of battle, the square glowed with the light of a thousand torches. Lord Vex Ji was locked in his own dungeon, the blood ledgers displayed for all to see.
The Colossus lay in the river; its hull being dismantled to build homes for the homeless.Confucius stood beside the Guru, watching as children traced the Nine Li Scripts in the dirt, their laughter mixing with the elders’ stories.
“Your father would be proud,” the Guru said, clapping him on the back.
Confucius smiled, looking down at the scrolls in his hands. They were no longer glowing—their power spent, but their message alive.
A machine-ninja—once loyal to Lord Vex Ji—ripped the circuit-stitched patch from its robe and joined the crowd, its red eyes softening as it listened to a peasant read from the First Sage’s words.
Somewhere in the dark and no one noticed, a girl with a broken body was crawling as both legs were too weak to walk. She could not scream for help because she has lost her voice.
But just before Lila fainted and died, and as if God looks after her, she was saved by the grace of yet another tight lips person who happened to be a well-known surgeon. He could provide surgical remedy on her to eliminate the medical complications and see her to recovery. But ensuring her ability to be fertile was beyond him.