At dawn, the gates of brine Station still bore melting snow.
Li Song had barely returned before being summoned to the war tent. Tu Lu stood grim-faced over a blood-stained map.
"Fourth outpost has gone silent. Two scouts missing."
Khalid's brow furrowed. "They're testing us—or sensing weakness on our eastern line."
"This isn't a test," Li Song rasped. "It's the kill before the feast."
Tu Lu gave a single nod. "Then we rest no more."
He pointed to a ravine.
"Old Qilian Mine. If we strike there, we turn the ambush on them."
"Or walk straight into it," Bai said.
"Find out," Tu Lu replied.
Bai Jia Yin rose and left with five men.
Thirty miles west, the wind cut through trees and stone.
Hoofprints scattered in the snow. Bai dismounted, eyes narrowing at a red thread tied to a pine branch. He flicked it. A trap.
Then a hawk's cry split the air.
"Scatter!" he shouted.
Arrows rained from above.
Behind cover, he fired three shots. The cries of wounded enemies faded—but cavalry thundered in.
"Archers bait. Cavalry kills," he muttered. "They were waiting."
"Orders?" the deputy asked.
"Follow the shaded slope—west. They won't expect retreat from there."
They broke through the line. Bai took an arrow to the arm but pushed on, snow masking their escape into the valley.
Meanwhile, Tu Lu and Li Song patrolled the eastern flank.
At Huangya Ridge, wind tore across the sand.
"Smell that?" Tu Lu asked.
"Horses," Li Song said.
"Positions!"
Minutes later, Raymond's scouts charged downhill.
"Eagle formation—open!" Tu Lu roared.
Arrows sliced the air. Riders fell. Tu Lu clashed with their captain mid-charge—one stroke, and the enemy horse lost its head.
Li Song broke through two riders. The enemy fell apart quickly.
"Distraction," Tu Lu muttered, eyes narrowing toward the north.
Dust clouds darkened the horizon—Raymond's main force was advancing.
They returned to Salt Spring Camp, rallying scouts and dispatching pigeons to the rear.
Bai Jia Yin had returned. Pale. Silent. Arm wrapped in rough cloth.
"Where are your men?" Tu Lu asked.
"Two wounded, left behind. Two covering the retreat—status unknown."
Tu Lu was quiet.
Li Song walked beside Bai.
"That was a risky call."
"Someone had to live to report it."
That night, the tent stayed lit.
"Raymond favors diagonal charges—fire shields on the eastern ridge."
"Set decoy posts west of the springs."
"Hold Bai Jia Yin in reserve—until the scout line stabilizes."
Plans were finalized by dawn. But the enemy had already moved.
A scout burst into camp, coated in dust.
"East Ridge has fallen!"
"How?" Tu Lu snapped.
"False flags from the South Ridge. They bypassed our decoy and struck the real post. East Ridge is gone."
"Who commanded it?"
"Gu Qian."
"He's brave," Li Song said. "But under-equipped."
Tu Lu slammed the table.
"Mount up. We retake it tonight!"
"I'll go," Bai said.
"You're wounded."
"Then I'll die standing."
"Scouts will follow the main force," Tu Lu said.
Li Song gripped his sword as wind whipped dust outside the camp.
Defense had never won the frontier.
At midnight, the army moved in three columns—one frontal assault, one flanking through the west slope, and one disguised as Raymond's own, led by Tu Lu.
Li Song and Bai Jia Yin moved through snow, cutting enemy signal lines, slipping past sentries.
The enemy camp was in shift—tired guards, low flames.
"Now," Li Song whispered.
Bai 's arrow ignited a tent.
"Thunderbolt Break!" Tu Lu roared.
His blade dropped three enemy officers in one blow. Troops surged into the breach.
Steel clashed. Dog-tooth blades ripped through armor. Eagle bows loosed three at a time.
Then iron hooves thundered in. A golden-armored general charged.
"Tali!" Bai shouted.
Tu Lu met him. Thirty strikes. Stalemate.
Li Song lunged—crippling the horse. Tu Lu seized the moment and ended it.
The ridge was theirs again. Enemy supplies torched. Towers pulled down.
By fourth watch, Raymond's forces had crumbled.
Bai sat in silence, watching dawn rise.
"This ridge is finally ours."
But the sun had barely risen when Raymond answered.
Six hundred cavalry. Ten fire-launchers. All aimed at the west.
Tu Lu stood at the gate, watching dust roll in.
"Tali's death stung."
"They want blood before the holiday," Li Song said. "They'll take ours if we let them."
"Then let's shatter their vow," Tu Lu replied.
Troops took positions. Morale surged.
Li Song led the Dogs to the right flank. Bai, still wounded, refused to stay behind.
"You're overextending," Li Song said.
"I'm breathing. That's all that matters."
At noon, enemy cavalry surged forward.
Their red-marked armor glinted beneath the sun—symbols of blood oaths.
"Fireball cannons—now!"
Explosions rocked the valley. The enemy twisted their line—same maneuver as the day before.
"They're copying," Li Song muttered. "But this isn't Tali."
He led a hundred through the flank. Arrows tore into the enemy's right wing.
Then—through the chaos—a young rider in black pierced the center.
"That's no old general," Bai whispered. "That's Aisuren's son."
Tu Lu's eyes darkened. "The New Blade…"
"Seventeen. Fast. Precise," Khalid added. "He's known for cutting down our messengers."
Already, two had fallen to him.
"Li Song!" Tu Lu shouted. "With me—now!"
"Yes!"
They charged.
Steel clashed. Hooves roared. The sky filled with sand and smoke.
The real battle had just begun.