The first snow of winter drifted quietly over the frontier as dawn approached.
Li Song had just returned from the northern ramparts three days ago, bearing fresh wounds atop older scars. Now, he rode a tired gray mule through the gates, his head bowed, fingers wrapped tightly around his longbow, "Eagle," while the blade named "Dog" hung from his back.
Tulu was warming his hands beside the fire. Upon seeing Li Song, he asked, "That narrow pass—how many bodies could it bury?"
Li Song replied, "The eastern cliff is steep. Three trenches there can trap a hundred men. If the enemy charges, we can block seventy percent of their cavalry."
Tulu nodded and turned to his deputy, Nazar. "Have the engineers dig in wooden stakes on the western ridge tonight. They must be in place before snowfall thickens."
Not far off, soldiers huddled around a map, murmuring. Raymond's forces had remained still for three days, too still. Li Song glanced at the map, now blotched in red at its edges. Arrows pointed southwest and east—Raymond was watching their supply lines.
Tulu tapped the map with a bone arrow shaft. "They want our supply wagons."
Khalid stepped into the tent. "The main convoy left Guhang Valley. Three days at most."
"If they cut the line, we'll be pinned down, even without a siege."
"Then we move first," Tulu said. "Warriors at the vanguard. Scouts in front to block their approach."
"I'll guard the camp," Khalid volunteered.
Preparations began swiftly. Under torchlight, two dozen warriors stood in formation, bows drawn, sword points glinting.
"This isn't about glory," Tulu called out from horseback. "Raymond broke our truce, butchered our men. Tonight—we take blood for blood."
He raised his blade, slicing through the flames. Li Song stepped forward. "Dog" and "Eagle" gleamed in unison.
The moon rose through the falling snow. The warband split into three groups—Li Song and Nazar took the western slope, guarding the flank.
Snow muffled the world. Li Song slung his bow and gripped "Dog," moving low and quiet through pine and ice.
"What did you use last time?" Nazar whispered.
"Shoulder-break thrust."
"Too loud for night fighting," Nazar muttered. "Keep it silent."
They crouched at a cliff edge. The slope was still. Hoofprints scattered like bait.
"There's someone here," Li Song murmured.
Nazar tossed a red-dusted stone downslope. No reaction.
"Real threats don't stand in the open."
Just then, a blood-soaked scout galloped into view. "The enemy… they've gone around… attacking from the rear—" Then collapsed, dead.
Tulu arrived, his gaze iron-hard. "They bet we'll stay on the road."
He snapped his cloak back. "We're retaking the ridge. Now."
They marched through the storm. The ridge path twisted and narrowed. Arrows faltered in the wind, but the troops pressed on, slipping into position beneath midnight sky.
Nazar signaled from the ridge. "The path's blocked. Three shield lines. Patrols are active."
Tulu ordered: "Five stay. Ten flank right. Li Song and I go through the front."
Snow crunched. Arrows trembled in their bows.
A signal flickered from the right—sentries down.
"Charge!" Tulu shouted.
He led with a blow called "Sweeping the Snow," breaking the first shield wall. Li Song followed, "Dog" flashing through the dark, cutting down an unaware soldier.
More emerged, but the path was too narrow. Their ranks tangled.
"Eagle!" Li Song called.
Two arrows pierced the line, screaming into the front guard. Tulu seized the gap and vaulted into the camp, slicing through the confusion.
A gold-armored cavalryman rode from the back, halberd swinging like thunder. Li Song was knocked backward. He slid under the snow, struck the horse's legs—down it went.
Tulu finished it in one blow.
Chaos reigned. The enemy sounded for reinforcements, but the ridge was too narrow.
The warband stormed deeper. Fires spread. Resistance broke.
Tulu called, "Cut them off!"
Li Song and three men rushed to the valley, ambushed three more fleeing soldiers.
By dawn, the ridge was theirs.
Snow still fell. Blood still steamed. The camp breathed victory.
But then—a runner.
"General! Captain Bai Yu's son is here. Sent to gain combat experience."
Tulu frowned. "At his age?"
The boy waited at the sentry post, clad in light armor, pale-faced but standing tall.
"Bai Jia Yin reporting," he saluted.
"What can you do?" Tulu asked coldly.
"Archery, riding, formation drills. Three months with scouts."
"Good. You'll follow Li Song. Survive three days—we'll talk about rank."
Li Song studied him. Young—but something sharp in his gaze.
Moments later, word came: two hundred Raymond cavalry had broken through and attacked the Salt Spring Station.
If it fell, the entire eastern front would collapse.
Tulu raised the banner: "Li Song, Bai Jia Yin—you scout. The rest, march light and strike fast."
They rode into the trees. Bai Jia Yin spotted broken pine branches.
"Scouts ahead," he whispered.
They climbed a hill. Fire burned below. Enemy troops had encircled the outpost.
Li Song and Bai Jia Yin led the flank assault. One slashed with "Dog," the other shot from horseback. Tulu burst through the rear gate with "Thunderbolt Shattering the Wall."
The enemy scattered.
Then—one rider remained. A black-clad commander, hoisting a banner.
"That's Iron Banner Herman!" Bai Jia Yin exclaimed.
"Kill him. Break the line," Tulu ordered.
The three of them charged. Blades clashed on snow.
Herman struck fiercely. Bai Jia Yin crippled his horse with an arrow. Li Song cut his shoulder. Tulu's blade finished it.
The enemy fled.
Water secured. Camp held.
Tulu stood by the scorched ridge, staring into the storm. "They'll come again. And we'll be ready."