The southern sky turned dark as thick plumes of greasy black smoke billowed over the limestone ridges.
Ye Chen led the vanguard through the lower mountain pass, his heavy boots making quick, steady strides along the dirt highway.
Beside him, Lin Xi walked with her twin rapiers drawn, her eyes fixed on the burning horizon where the roofs of Ironwood Street usually stood.
The crackle of burning wooden market stalls echoed down the valley long before they reached the outer gates.
What had once been a bustling trade avenue filled with tea merchants, ironmongers, and fabric peddlers was now a hollow corridor of roaring flame and falling timber.
Charred signboards tumbled onto the cobblestones, sending showers of red sparks floating into the dark air.
"They burned the whole lower market,"
