Down below the ruins of the world above, the air changed. The smell of burning wood and the sharp, iron tang of blood were replaced by a heavy humidity and the suffocating odor of the sewer. The tunnel was narrow—only wide enough for two people to walk shoulder to shoulder—and the stone walls were slimy and sticky to the touch, as if the city itself were sweating in fear.
As the hundred pairs of eyes slowly adjusted to the oppressive darkness, a grim realization set in: the tunnels under Kark City were a map of their own. Since this was their first time beneath the streets, the Magoli team found themselves lost in a blind maze. They spent hours running in circles, their boots splashing through the filth as they searched for a way up.
Above them, the rumbling sound of the fight continued—a muffled, vibrating thunder that shook the silt from the ceiling. They could hear the war, but they were trapped beneath it, unable to locate the exit to coordinate their attack as planned. The "young lead" and his team were running out of time, and the sun above was likely already moving toward the deadline Hye had set.
"Siqi," Nachin said, pulling him a little further away from the others. He wiped the sweat from his forehead. Even in the gloom, the frustration on Siqi's face was as clear as the mud on his boots. "We are running in circles."
"I know," Siqi replied, his voice strained as he fought to keep his composure in front of his team.
"The tunnel to the left was a dead end," Khair reported, approaching with three soldiers. "But it seems the air coming from there is fresher than here."
Siqi went quiet for a moment, his eyes scanning the oppressive dark. "What if we got it all wrong?"
"What do you mean?" Khair asked, exhaling deeply and resting her hands on her hips.
"Since we arrived, we've been looking at the ceiling, assuming the exit must be above us because we are underground," Siqi explained. "But what if some of these tunnels are for waste, and others were purposely built as secret passages?"
"And how do we tell them apart?" Nachin asked, skeptically.
"The dry ones," Siqi said, the realization finally lighting a spark in his eyes. "Who would want to escape through sewer water that is waist-high? Jietang and his captains would have chosen the path that kept their boots dry."
Nachin's face brightened, then fell just as quickly. "You're brilliant, but how do we find it? Everything down here looks the same."
"We go back to the opening," Siqi commanded, his voice regaining the authority of a lead. "There were only ten junctions near the entrance. Whichever tunnel has water that only reaches our knees and slowly inclines upward—that is the path Jietang used to leave. And that is the path we will use to enter."
Siqi walked forward towards the group of men resting, although they are supposed to be resting, but the since the water level was at waist high all the soldiers could do was standing and letting the debris of human waste rushing pass them.
"Everyone, we are heading towards the entrance and from there, we will search for a tunnel that will take us incline upward, that would be the tunnel that we are taking," Siqi said, walking ahead taking the lead leading the group zigzagging through the tunnel following the symbol they left on the way back to the entrance.
While the one hundred young soldiers searched the dark for the path Jietang had used to escape, the world above turned to thunder. Captain Jeet, seeing that the Payapasian soldiers were pinned down and unable to return fire, gave the order to bring forth the battering ram.
Peering through a gap in the stone battlements, Nib watched the heavy timber being wheeled toward the South Gate. He knew that without intervention, the wood would splinter and the city would fall. But every time he or his men dared to stand, a Magoli arrow found its mark.
Time was a luxury he no longer possessed.
He grabbed the arm of a trembling soldier beside him. "You! Send an urgent message to General Leej. Tell him we need our archers now. The Magoli are at the gate!"
The frightened youth nodded, crawling across the slick stone of the rampart, moving through the blood and bodies of his fallen brothers until he reached the stairwell.
"Soldiers!" Nib's voice rang out over the chaos. "Until our archers arrive, we leave the wall!" He pointed to a unit lead nearby. "You! Your unit stays here. If the Magoli try to scale these walls, you hold them!"
"Understood!" the lead shouted, quickly positioning his men in the shadows of the merlons.
"The rest of you!" Nib roared, drawing his blade. "We face them at the gate!"
With Nib in the lead, the remaining Paayasian soldiers abandoned the heights, rushing down the stairs to form a final line of defense behind the heavy wood of the South Gate. They braced themselves for the strike of the battering ram, unaware that while they watched the gate in front of them, the floor behind them was about to give way.
Although layers of packed earth separated those who stood in the light from those who moved in the dark, the impact of the battering ram against the iron-reinforced South Gate sent a physical shockwave through the tunnel walls. The collision was felt in the bones of the one hundred soldiers.
"Siqi!" a soldier shouted, his voice thick with excitement. "There seems to be a ledge here!"
"Everyone stop moving," Siqi commanded. The splashing of water came to a sudden, ringing halt. "Who just spoke?"
"Me," the soldier replied.
"Okay, you climb up and walk away," Siqi ordered, his mind racing through the tactical geometry of the tunnels. "If the water is not above your knee within twenty yards, come back. If it is lower, send us a signal."
The soldier disappeared into the dark with a single splash, his footsteps echoing into the distance. Left in the silence, Siqi felt his heart tremble with a volatile mix of hope and anger. He had spent three agonizing hours running in circles, only to find himself back where he had started—but this time, the air was different. It was fresher, carrying the faint scent of the world above.
Just as the tension became unbearable, three connected knocks—three sets of three—echoed through the second tunnel to the left. It was the signal of the dry path.
"Everyone, let's go," Siqi said, his voice now a sharp, focused blade. He rushed forward, knowing the mission his father and Hye had entrusted to him was finally within his grasp.
Above ground at the South Gate of Kark, the cacophony of desperation had reached a fever pitch. The frantic shouts and the rhythmic grunts of soldiers working in unison to reinforce the entrance grew louder even than the thunderous boom of the Magoli battering ram.
"Reinforce that gate!" Nib screamed, his arm outstretched toward a group of soldiers wheeling three wagons piled high with jagged river stones.
He glanced upward. The unit leads on the inner catwalks had already prepared the "Death From Above," pulling the massive iron drop-spikes into position. Other soldiers were sweating as they lashed the thick hemp ropes to the stone pillars, securing the counterweights that held the spikes in suspension.
"Make sure those shields stay up!" Nib's voice boomed over the clatter of iron and wood. He turned his head, searching the street behind him for the glint of Paayasian archers. There was nothing—no reinforcements, no arrows to answer the Magoli.
He turned back to the gate, his mouth opening to bark another order, but the words were stolen by a deafening CRACK. The thick timber of the gate groaned, a spiderweb of splinters blooming across the center as the iron reinforcements began to buckle under the relentless assault from outside.
Above ground, Nib's eyes remained locked onto the buckling gate. The sound of metal shrieking against iron echoed through the street, and with every new crack, he knew the Magoli were an inch closer to breaching Kark City.
"Men! Don't be afraid!" Nib shouted, his voice a shield against the mounting terror. "We stand together! No Magoli shall pass through this gate!" His soldiers surged forward, knuckles white as they gripped their weapons, eyes fixed on the splintering wood, waiting for the first enemy to burst through.
Deep below, Siqi and his team finally reached the end of the dry tunnel. Finding no opening above, Siqi began to trace the damp stone walls with his fingers. Just as hope began to fade, his palm pressed against a specific brick. A hidden mechanism groaned; the wall pushed backward and slid open, allowing the faint, orange glow of the late afternoon sun to spill into the darkness.
Siqi stepped through into a small stone chamber. At first glance, the water looked deep and bottomless, but when he tested it with his boot, he realized it only reached his knees. The black rocks at the bottom had created a perfect illusion of depth. In the center of the room, a wooden barrel hung suspended by a thick rope.
Grabbing the barrel, Siqi looked up and realized they were at the base of a forgotten water well. He turned to Nachin and the others, pressing a finger to his lips, signaling them to stay put while he scouted the surface.
He climbed onto the barrel and pulled himself up the rope, hand over hand. When he reached the rim, he peeked out and found himself in a small, abandoned courtyard—silent and overgrown. After checking twice for any Paayasian patrols, he leaned back into the well and tapped the stone: three sets of three.
One by one, the hundred young soldiers began their ascent, rising from the mouth of the well and into the very heart of Kark City. As they stepped onto the dry earth, they immediately retreated into the shadows of the abandoned house, stripping off their sodden, sewer-stained gear.
They were just pulling on the rough civilian tunics they had scavenged to blend in when the silence of the courtyard was broken. Khair appeared from around the corner of the stone wall, her breath coming in quick, shallow bursts.
"Siqi," Khair said, her voice sharp with urgency. "Over there—while we were changing—we found a room filled with Paayasian armor and weapons."
Siqi looked down at the drab civilian rags they wore, then back at Khair. A slow, knowing smile spread across his face—the look of a hunter who had just found a better trap. "Well, we are here on a mission, right? Let's change."
"But what if we are caught in a crossfire with our own people?" Khair asked, her brow furrowed.
"We wear white cloth on our wrists," Siqi replied, his mind already calculating the tactical advantage. "A signal for the Magoli, and a disguise for the rest."
"Oh! You guys are here!"
The voice boomed from the front of the house, catching the Magoli soldiers completely off-guard. Siqi and the others spun toward the door to see a young Paayasian soldier, roughly their own age, rushing through the gate.
"I was on my way to the North Gate to ask General Leej to send archers!" the messenger gasped, clearly relieved to see "friendly" faces.
Siqi didn't hesitate. He maintained his composure, stepping forward with a calm authority. "Well, you have found us. We were sent back to assist, but we are just about to change into our armor." Siqi looked the young soldier in the eye, his voice steady. "We will be ready in less than half an hour. You can go ahead and lead us to where your Captain needs us."