The battlefield had been left behind, but the silence still pursued him.
Suwei moved forward between rows of soldiers who looked at him as if contemplating something more than a man. The glow of the crimson lotus still seemed to float in the air, invisible to common eyes, but impossible to forget for those who had witnessed it. Each step he took with the imperial sword in hand was followed by reverent gazes, by hearts beating with a new faith.
Nobody shouted. Nobody celebrated. The victory had been so overwhelming and so clean that jubilation seemed inappropriate. It was as if the gods had descended upon the battlefield, and all that remained for mortals was to bow their heads.
