I smothered my instinctive protest, the violent urge to make Wugang suffer. I had never felt any true satisfaction in killing before, but I could have slain him now without hesitation, relishing the Sky-fire crackling over his face, twisting with the bone-deep torment I knew so well. Yet it would yield just a futile relief, a bandage to a festering wound without its cure.

My eyes searched for Shuxiao where she lay on the ground, alert though quiet, her eyes ringed in purple like they were bruised. There was no real choice here; the stakes were too high. We were outnumbered, weakened, vulnerable. Even if we escaped with the dragons’ aid … I could not bear the burden of the lives lost in the Celestial Kingdom and beyond. Even that of the emperor, even if it were not for Liwei.

I had lost. No, I reminded myself. It was not over. And if winning meant countless innocents would perish—that was no victory.

“Call off your soldiers and leave this place. You will let us go safely and not give chase,” I said slowly.

“For now,” Wugang agreed. “A day’s respite.”

“Forever,” I demanded. “We want nothing more to do with you.”

“I will never agree to that,” he said with resolute finality.

“Why not?” I ground out. “What more do you want of us?”

He said nothing, merely looking at me with those pale eyes. He would not relent, nor would he tell us more.

“A week,” I countered. Another idea dawned, small recompense though it was. “You will also leave the Eastern Sea in peace. You will not hold this encounter against them.”

“Very well. Their offense has been repaid in blood. I will not demand more unless they move against me.” Wugang’s head tipped toward the sun. “Are we in accord?”

“How do I know you will keep your word?” A lesson I had learned from the Celestial Empress.

“I swear this upon the honor of my parents. The ones who gave me life, whom I cherish though they are long gone.” He pressed a fist to his chest. “If I break this oath, may their spirits never find peace, may they haunt me for eternity.”

I believed him. How I hated this, but Wugang’s death would not bring back those lost, and at least we had salvaged a temporary reprieve. As Wenzhi’s sword lifted from his neck and his binds vanished, Wugang strode to the safety of his soldiers. They surrounded him at once, their heads cocked for his command, their guandao clutched tight. For a moment, I feared treachery—except there was still a sliver of honor in him despite his mockery of the virtue. As clouds swooped down to the beach, he leapt upon one, his army taking flight after him.