The remaining four Grandmasters however merely gritted their teeth, their knees locked onto the cold stone, refusing to break.
Mulan's eyes narrowed. She walked down the line, her leather boots clicking with terrific rhythm against the stone. Reaching down, she grabbed each prisoner by their hair
She violently jerked their heads back to stare directly into their eyes, reading the resolve, or fear, written on their stubborn faces.
Then she stopped at a middle-aged Grandmaster whose jaw was set in stubborn defiance.
Without a word of warning, Jin Mulan drew her sword and, with a swift motion, drew its tip across the very edge of his throat.
The man choked, his eyes bulging as blood fountained over her gauntlets and spilled across the floor.
Mulan stepped back, letting the thick, dark crimson pool outward until it soaked into the knees of the remaining three kneeling on the floor.
Luo He stepped into the bloody puddle, taking his place beside her like a classic bad-cop-good-cop routine. He looked down at the surviving trio.
"How about now?" Luo He asked mildly. "Anyone changing their mind?" Silence. The three remaining Grandmasters kept their lips pressed thin.
Trembling slightly against the chill of the morning air and the smell of their comrade's blood, but none opened their mouths.
Luo He pulled his robe around himself and shook his head in disappointment. "Okay, honey, this isn't working. I'm leaving." He turned on his heel to walk away.
Mulan cracked her cute knuckles, stepping forward with a sharp, murderous glint in her eyes, clearly preparing to tear the remaining three apart piece by piece.
Before taking another step, Luo He paused and looked back over his shoulder. "Oh, by the way, honey..."
"Don't just execute them outright. Take your time and enjoy yourself. I know you've been wanting to vent some steam lately. Do what ever you want with them. I don't mind."
In an instant, the terrifying, ice-cold aura surrounding Jin Mulan completely and utterly vanished. Her fierce, murderous expression softened into an impossibly cute, pouty look.
She let out a happy gasp, abandoned the terrified prisoners, and threw her arms around Luo He's neck, pulling him into a deep, passionate kiss right there in front of everyone in the courtyard.
"Thank you, Husband!" She purred cutely, cuddling against his chest with a bright smile. "Thank you, thank you!" Luo He chuckled softly, patting her back.
"Okay, okay, honey, don't make a grand scene out of this. Just do whatever you want with them." Luo He began strolling toward the courtyard.
Luo He walked slowly, hands tucked into his sleeves, but his eyes remained sharp as he watched from the corners.
Fei stood nearby with his arms crossed, ensuring that if any of these captives tried a desperate, suicidal move against Mulan, he could step in and obliterate them instantly.
The two guards stepped forward to haul the three chained Grandmasters toward the interrogation chamber.
As the heavy chains rattled, the youngest of the three finally snapped under the brutal psychological weight of the grim execution.
"Wait! Wait! Please don't kill me!" the young Grandmaster shrieked, his voice breaking into desperate sobs as he fought against the chains. "I'll work for you! I'll do whatever you want! Please!"
Luo He stopped in his tracks, looking mildly amused. He strolled back over to the young man, leaned down slowly, and grabbed the terrified warrior by his face.
Instead of a harsh grip, Luo He playfully cuddled his face and pinched his pale cheeks. "Oh? Look who decided to finally open his mouth."
Luo He said teasingly. "Now was that so hard to say?"
"How ever welcome to the team." Luo He tapped the handcuffs binding the youth's wrists. Mulan immediately stepped up, her sword flashing once, neatly slicing through the heavy iron cuffs.
Seeing an easy way out, the middle-aged Grandmaster beside him broke his pride as well. "I surrender! I will also serve!" Mulan nodded coldly and stepped over.
Bringing her blade down to slice through his handcuffs as well. The final prisoner, an old Grandmaster with grey hair and partially sunken eyes, submissively held out his cuffed hands.
But the moment Mulan's blade shattered his iron restraints, a vicious, murderous light burst from the old man's eyes.
Leveraging his freed hands, he lunged forward like a striking viper, his fingers clawed to crush Mulan's windpipe and take her down with him.
Her reaction was terrifyingly instantaneous.
Before the old man's fingers could even think of touching her neck, her broadsword flew upward in a blinding, vertical arc.
The blade cut through the air with an cold intoxicating whistle.
SPLUTTER.
The old Grandmaster froze mid-lunge. A thin red line appeared right down the center of his body, starting from between his legs, running up his chest, through his nose, and splitting his crown.
A second later, his body cleanly fell apart into two separate halves, spilling brains, organs, and a violent deluge of gore directly onto the cold flagstones.
Killing a man in battle was one thing, but witnessing a high-ranking Grandmaster sliced in two like a piece of livestock was a completely different level of horror.
The young Grandmaster immediately dropped to his knees and began violently heaving, throwing up his stomach contents right onto the stone.
The middleaged Grandmaster went deathly pale, his entire body shaking as he stared at the steaming pile of entrails.
In that moment, a single, terrifying thought burned itself into the minds of both these surviving Grandmasters. These two aren't human. They are absolute devils.
Without a single moment of hesitation, both men threw themselves flat onto the blood slick stone like dogs.
Desperately kowtowing and kissing the leather of Luo He's boots to pledge their absolute submission. Luo He began to slowly walk forward clap his hands.
It was a slow, measured rhythm. Light, yet appreciative taps of his palms that sliced through the horrified silence. "Good. Very good." Luo He said, his voice smooth.
It was almost melodic against the harsh mountain wind. "Another one eliminated, and that leaves just the two of you." the two Grandmaster was still on their knees.
The young Grandmaster wiped his mouth with the back of a trembling, blood-flecked hand and forced himself upright, his legs shaking like dry reeds.
Beside him, the middle-aged grandmaster stood rigid against the ground still kneeling, his breath coming in ragged and shallow gasps. Side-by-side now, the final two survivors faced their host.
"Unfortunately," Luo He continued, casually stepping closer to inspect them like live stock at a market. "I only have one single vacant spot left in my service."
"Which means only one of you gets to leave this fortress breathing, so how should we decide?" Neither man spoke. The terror was too dense, suffocating them.
"Simple, then." Luo He smiled, his eyes glinting with a dark, refined delight. "You two will fight to the death. Who ever will remain earns the right to join me."
"The other dies here." He said casually.
Without waiting for a response, Luo He turned on his heel. Jin Mulan closed the distance between them, sliding her arm around his and interlacing her fingers with his like a devoted wife.
He drew her close against his side as they strolled away from the wall. Luo He glanced over his shoulder at Fei. Fei bowed low.
Stepping up behind the two martial artists, Fei shoved them roughly forward. "Move."
As the party descended from the ramparts, a silent flock of servants emerged from the shadows.
They carried buckets, rag-cloths, and mops, immediately setting to work as fast as possible to scrub the thick slick crimson stains from the floor.
The two men were escorted into a secluded inner courtyard. A private training ground flanked by many weapon racks laden with gleaming cold iron.
Spears, countless swords, shields, and halberds. The air here smelled of oiled steel and cut stone. "Take whatever you like." He called out, lightly leaning back against a covered pavilion at the courtyard's edge.
Jin Mulan rested her cheek against his shoulder, her hand remaining very firmly wrapped in his, watching the two men with cool, entertained eyes.
"Don't hold back. You've both endured so much to get this close to victory, it would be a pity to give up now."
It was a sick game, but survival was an instinct that overrode dignity. Both men had clawed their way through mountains of corpses to reach this stage so neither was willing to die quietly now.
Both grandmasters reached for the racks. As master swordsmen, steel felt natural in their hands, but their tactical minds took over under the threat of immediate death.
The younger grandmaster snatched a long double-edged straight sword and strapped a heavy wooden tower-shield tightly to his left forearm.
The older grandmaster knew he lacked the youth's stamina, choosing instead a heavy broadsword in his primary sword hand and drawing a jagged, double-bladed dagger into his off-hand for close-quarters parrying.
They didn't hesitate. The older grandmaster lunged first, his broadsword whistling through the air in a brutal downward arc.
CLANG!
The younger grandmaster caught the blow on his shield, the impact rattling his bones, and thrust his straight sword forward in a blinding counter stroke.
Steel bit steel. Spark shower split the dim sunlight. They circled, hack and parry, stepping through the dust of the gleaming courtyard.