Lord Lu Bu had been correct about position and number of the enemy troops. Zhang Liao had no doubts, but it felt reassuring to see a small force. The still dull ache in his shoulder worries him to a degree. A wounded soldier is a vulnerable soldier upon the battlefield. His movements are not as swift nor his strike as powerful. Sharing this information with Lu Bu would surely result in not being included in the coming fight. Lu Bu may need him. Would it be wise to heed his wounds or ignore them?
Li shifts beneath him. He looks to his lord. The Flying General's gaze remains intently on the encampment that they watch from a gentle hill above camouflaged in the green growth. Lu Bu has the look of a wolf starving for fresh flesh to tear and ripe into. A phoenix ready to take flight in flames, burning its foes.
Zhang Liao joins his gaze. He simply sees an old, unrepairable, fort bustling with activity from Dong Zhou's men. Tents are pitched within the rubble of the castle or near the very outer rims. Sentries are posted on walls that are amazingly still standing. Most are leaning and have many cracks and blocks missing. No matter how he searches for his tormentor, Dong Zhou, he cannot find him. This is all Zhang Liao sees.
"Swine!" Lu Bu hisses suddenly, his voice riddled with unhidden anger. Zhang Liao eyes search the force below them for a few moments.
There. The sight of the sloppy, obese lord is like a sharp slap across the face. Memories are like a needle probing for a weakness. Zhang Liao grips Li's reins tightly. Anger volts threw him, a dull yet noticeable fear flames the hatred. Blinking slowly, the General tries to vent the emotions. A sure distraction for the battle. Loosening his grip, he watches his knuckles immediately turn away the white color that had adorned them. Zhang Liao wishes his negative emotions would disappear as quickly.
Lu Bu's hand softly strokes Zhang Liao's before grasping in a hold meant to be a sanctuary of comfort. Gripping back, Zhang Liao looks to his lord a grateful smile drawn upon his face.
Though the Flying General's face remains straight, his eyes burn. A flame of love, care, and worry. A flame sparked to a burn. One to glow fiercely and snap passionately. No, Lu Bu does not have to smile. Zhang Liao simply must look into his lord's eyes to see everything they have sparked together.
Lu Bu slowly reclines his hand to hold his reins. The fire of the great General's touch eases away with it. "Stay close, and don't do anything foolish," Lu Bu says in a voice edged with worry. He spurs the great steed, Red Hare, into a gallop sending rider and mount flying down the hillside. A soft nervous chuckle passes Zhang Liao's lips. Somethings about Lu Bu never change, but that's why he loved his lord.
Li and the General canter downward after the first rider. Lu Bu has already begun slaughtering confused peons that madly dash to safety or weapons. Wielding his twin axes, Zhang Liao joins the carnage. Without the use of his hands, the General simply spurs Li's left or right according to the direction he desires. He had trained the mare to comply efficiently to this method.
Zhang Liao hears the frantic greatly angered booming voice of Dong Zhou. A tingle of anxiety usurps him for moments nearly costing him another injury. Glancing around, the General looks for the warlord and his lord. Nothing. He is alone. Swarmed by panicking men. Retreated backwards, he efficiently slices two armed soldiers. His lungs fill with air to shout for Lord Lu Bu, but an agonizing sensation of a hard smack to his back forces it from him. Knocked from Li, Zhang Liao lies prone gasping for air. Grasping the weapons he holds firmly, he slowly rolls over. Loyal as ever, Li has only scuffled a short distance away despite the corruption that obviously startles her.
"Worthless mutt!" Dong Zhou's voice fills his ears. A horrific sensation of helpless overcomes Zhang Liao. His senses dull and the burning flame in his shoulder blossoms without hesitation. The ache in his back holds him still. His mind draws blank.
A voice. It cries to him across the battlefield. He recognizes it. "Zhang Liao!" It shouts.
"Lu Bu!" He cries out, hastily pulling to unsure feet. The pain that gropes his back seems to dull. Perhaps it was only minor?
"Lu Bu!" He shouts again, desperately searching around for his lord. "He will die." A voice that speaks evenly, but seethes with undoubted anger. Even with the confused shouts around him, Zhang Liao hears the words as clear the clearest water. Dong Zhou. He turns. Only too true. The swine stands before him armed with a malicious club-like weapon.
Anger, fear, pain, exhaustion, and worry drip away like the blood of a slow but deep wound, like the pure rains from the heavens. Drawing himself to battle stance, Zhang Liao stares down his opponent with undefined calmness.
Dong Zhou seems taken back by this sudden change, but recovers quickly. "I will bed you, dog. I will use you over and over! You will die in shame and dishonor!" The warlord roars. The words fall to deafened ears. Only one voice does Zhang Liao hear so clearly, it is as though it whispers next to his ear: Lu Bu. To hear that voice forever, does the General feel no hesitation. The words that grip hatred, anger, and lust thrust at him gather nothing.
Charging forth to overcome and defeat the advisory that desires to conquer him, Zhang Liao thrusts both axes forward. The tyrant's weapons catches the blades, but the General knows nothing will protect this man. An expression that crosses Dong Zhou's face foretells that he too realizes uselessness of his duty compared to that of the General before him.
Lu Bu slashes and cuts down foe frantically. Blade nor horse seem to carry fast enough to his love. His General and that swine disappear from view as they move behind a crumbling wall. "Damn you!" Lu Bu curses. Pushing forth with flames that roar of worry and hatred, the Flying General ruthless takes the lives of any who stand in the way of Zhang Liao and him.
His Zhang Liao. The one who shared something with the great General that even he was untutored and worried of. All he needed was Wenyuan. The swinish filthy man that called himself a lord would not take him. The words burn and push Lu Bu forth like never before. Never has he had a reason to fight such as this. The fierce battle lust conquered by the passionate fire of love.
His blade courses threw vulnerable flesh forcing a terrified scream of pain. The body staggers before thumping onto the rich green grass. Deep red blood gurgles from the opening, draining the soul and life from the motionless form.
It has been done. There is no pride in taking another man's life. No joy in spilling his blood upon clean earth. No satisfaction in hearing his labored dying breathes. Only relief, knowing it is his soul that is driven from the mangled body no longer worthy of life not that of your own.
Zhang Liao staggers backwards. He has won. He has defeated his foe. It is almost too much to take. A wave of vast emotion flutters into his being. Lu Bu. The name immediately sends him searching. Turning he briskly walks towards and around the wall. His body begs for him to stop, but he will not.
There. The sight brings the threat of tears to Zhang Liao's eyes. Lu Bu sees him as well. The General watches as his lord hastily harness his weapon and dismounts Red Hare. The great General runs towards him. Zhang Liao staggers forward, wanting nothing more to be in those arms.
The sensation of his lord's arms wrapping around his softly shaking form bring great relief to Zhang Liao. His body groans and desperately wants rest, but he would rather stay here like this forever.
Lu Bu pulls back slightly so that he can see his General. "Is it done?" he demands, searching Zhang Liao's face. "Yes...yes," Is the soft considering reply. Grasping the smaller warrior close, Lu Bu listens and feels his General. A soft quiver and exhausted breathing. "Fengxian?" Zhang Liao questions when he gathers himself. Lu Bu hums in response. "I love you." The words slip from his tongue as a fresh most sweetest thing he's ever spoken. The three simple words that carry such a grand message.
A satisfied genuine, yet small smile finds Lu Bu's lips. "I love you too, Wenyuan," is all the Flying General can say.
The words feel tranquil like the splash of clear cool water, the immeasurable beauty of a sunset, and the magnificent touch of a lover.
Here, even as they stand in a bloody battlefield, they stand entwined with one another like the petals of a rose. Red are their petals for the blood they have spilt together, sharp are their thorns for the sting of pain brought upon them and others, but deep grown their roots and forever sweet their scent. Here, a rose blooms among the carnage.
Perhaps they will never be accepted by great lords and warriors that fight to unify this land torn by carnage. But no matter the path, together their love will bloom, for together they are whole.
Hello. Sorry the story delayed again. This is my last chapter. Hope everyone enjoyed this story. Thank you for all your supportive reviews. They made updating a motivating. Please don't hesitate to inform me what you thought of everything. Until next time.