As dawn broke, painting the eastern sky in hues of rose and gold, the ancient military camp emerged from the pre-dawn mist. Its weathered stone walls, etched with the stories of forgotten battles, stood as silent sentinels against the approaching light. High above, on a lone, sturdy mast, the camp's flag, tattered but proud, billowed and snapped in the morning breeze. Each unfurling of its fabric seemed to mimic the majestic eagles that now began to circle overhead, their calls echoing through the quiet valley as other morning creatures stirred and soared into the vast expanse of the awakening sky. Just beyond, the first whispers of smoke curled from the chimneys of the small village, promising warmth and life after the long, cool night.
Perched atop the small hill, Khenbish, Zhi, and Haitao paused on horseback, their gaze sweeping across the distant Namsu Village. A gentle morning breeze brushed against their faces as they slowly guided their horses down the slope, thousands of soldiers falling in behind them, a silent tide descending upon the waking settlement.
The first sounds carried on the morning air weren't human voices, but the familiar lowing of farm animals blending with the soft thud of the Hmagol soldiers' footsteps. As the army drew nearer, villagers began to emerge from their homes, drawn by the unusual commotion. With each silent step the Hmagol soldiers took past their thresholds, a stark realization settled over the village: war was no longer a distant threat, but an imminent reality.
Haitao led his nine thousand seven hundred soldiers through Namsu Village, noting how the villagers began to emerge, their gazes following the troops. A heartwarming sight met his eyes: some already stood outside, offering bowls of steaming mare's milk to the passing soldiers. This deep-rooted tradition of hospitality among the Hmagol people was what had compelled Haitao to abandon Tanggolia. He had grasped early on that while the great Tanggolia Kingdom was undeniably vast and rich, its populace often fixated on their own prosperity, and its generals frequently abandoned their soldiers to their fate.
"We don't see this type of welcoming in Tanggolia?" Zhi's voice cut through Haitao's thoughts, making him turn.
Haitao offered a quick smile, then sighed. "No, we don't," he said, the smile fading slightly. "The only welcome we'll get there are the bitter stares of parents, wives, sons, and daughters. Sometimes... I wonder if they curse us for leading their sons to their deaths."
"Is this why you abandoned Tanggolia?" Zhi asked.
"Yes, in a way," Haitao replied, meeting Zhi's gaze. "What about you? What were your reasons for leaving?"
Zhi scoffed, the lingering sting of betrayal evident in his voice. "Perhaps the same as yours, and a little more. But if I had to choose again, I wouldn't obey an inhuman command. For me..." He sighed, glancing back at the soldiers trailing behind them before returning his focus to Haitao. "A true winner shows their strength on the battlefield, not through some inhuman act against vulnerable children, women, and the elderly."
Haitao smiled and nodded slowly.
"This is why I choose to follow Chinua," Zhi continued. "At least I know that even if I disobey her, only I will die for my own actions, not my entire family." He glanced at Haitao. "To be honest, I don't regret it... I don't regret selling my life to Chinua. She's done more for me and my family in the three years I've served under her than Xin Ziyuan ever did in my ten years serving him."
Their short conversation ceased as they approached the military gate of the Northeastern Military Camp of Hmagol. Haitao and his soldiers halted their horses before the heavily guarded entrance. Soldiers at the gate, recognizing Haitao, quickly rushed forward to take his horse's reins, helping him dismount.
"Welcome, Captain Haitao," one soldier said with a noticeable sadness.
"How is General Batzorig?" Haitao asked, his voice tinged with worry.
The soldier replied, "General Batzorig was badly wounded, but his wound is slowly healing. Captain, I didn't realize you were the Eastern General."
Haitao chuckled, patting the young soldier on the back. "I'm not the Eastern General. I'm still a captain. The Eastern General hasn't arrived yet. She and some of her men are surveying Namsu Village. They should be here shortly." He walked toward the gate, then turned back to face the guards. "Oh, by the way, soldiers, if a person named Chinua arrives, that's the Eastern General who has come to replace General Batzorig."
As the rosy hues of dawn bled across the horizon, Chinua felt a cold breeze sweep past her face, finding herself curled in a fetal position beside Khunbish. She opened her eyes to see Hye already awake, sitting by the remnants of their small campfire. Getting up, she stretched her arms as another gust of cold wind rushed by. She gently pulled her blanket over Khunbish, then walked over and sat opposite Hye.
"You're certainly an early bird," she said with a yawn.
Hye chuckled, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Now I understand what Muunokhoi meant when he said, 'Khunbish and Khenbish guard you like a husband guarding his wife.'" He chuckled again.
Chinua brushed off the teasing with a blush. "We're used to it. Rules are hard not to follow, and loyalty is even harder to break."
Hye chuckled, shaking his head. "Khunbish once told me that his loyalty to you doesn't enslave him, because he gave it willingly. Ah... I feel sorry for Noor, who poured her heart out for Khunbish."
Chinua sighed, turning slightly to look at Khunbish. "Someone like Khunbish is hard to get through. Once he's made up his mind, it's impossible to change it. That's why I told Chief Behrouz early on to talk Noor into changing her target."
Chinua and Hye's laughter echoed, rousing Khunbish.
Hye shook his head. "I guess we were a bit loud. Since you're awake, let's head to Namsu Village. If we go now, we should still make it for breakfast."
Khunbish quickly folded his blanket and secured his backpack. The trio fastened their belongings onto their horses and rode down the rocky mountain, making their way toward the small dirt path leading to Namsu Village.
An hour later, Chinua, Hye, and Khunbish arrived on the small hill overlooking Namsu Village. From their vantage point, they noticed horse hoofprints had already paved the way down, leaving divots that would surely collect water if it rained. The trio slowly guided their horses into the village.
As they encountered the villagers along the way, a sobering thought struck Chinua: if war broke out, where would these people hide? The mountains offered a temporary refuge, but nothing more.
"What are you thinking?" Hye asked, realizing Chinua had been quiet for some time.
Chinua turned to him, a worried note in her voice. "I was thinking, if war breaks out, where are these people going to hide? Namsan City is two days from here."
Hye smiled. "True... why didn't I think of that back then?"
"Oh," Chinua teased sarcastically, giggling, "are there things the bright mind of Hye didn't think of?"
Hye scoffed playfully. "He isn't God, is he?"
As the trio approached the military camp gate, ten guards rushed forward, circling their horses with weapons drawn, a clear warning against any sudden moves. The trio understood the strictness; it stemmed from the recent assassination attempt on Batzorig's life.
"Who are you?" one of the soldiers demanded, his hand gripping his sword hilt, eyes wary as they scrutinized Chinua and her two companions.
"Chinua," she stated, her tone sharp and fierce.
The ten soldiers exchanged glances, seemingly expecting their new general to be the fierce-looking Khunbish. Another soldier quickly stepped forward. "Captain Haitao said that if someone named Chinua arrives with two men, she's the Eastern General here to replace General Batzorig." He looked at Chinua, uncertain whether to let her in. "Please wait, I'll send someone to get Captain Haitao's team to validate your identity."
"Go on," Chinua simply said.
"What's the hold up?" Jochi's loud voice boomed from behind Chinua and her men.
"Captain Jochi," a soldier replied, "they're with Captain Haitao, and we're waiting for someone from his team to validate their identity."
Jochi rode his horse past, glancing at Chinua, Hye, and Khunbish. "I remember you," Jochi said, his eyes fixed on Chinua. "Aren't you the soldier sent with Haitao to the south? I thought you were dead on your journey there." He turned his horse to face Chinua, Hye, and Khunbish. "Your luck might run out here."
"Pick your words carefully when you speak, captain," Khunbish glared, his voice seething with anger.
"Khunbish," Hye said with a mocking tone. "Some peasants have eyes so low they can only see their own feet. No matter how much they try to raise their heads, they can never see the sun, moon, and stars." He challenged Jochi, rolling his eyes.
"You..." Jochi grabbed his sword hilt, unsheathing it and pointing it at Hye. "Is that a challenge?"
Hye gave Jochi a mocking smile. "If I truly wanted to kill you, you wouldn't be standing today."
Jochi thrust his sword forward at Hye, but stopped short as he felt the sharp tip of a spear press against his right ribcage. He turned to see Chinua glaring at him with fiery eyes.
"You touch him and you die," Chinua stated.
Jochi laughed in amusement. "You dare to threaten me?" The corner of his left mouth curled into a sneer.
Chinua stared directly into Jochi's eyes, her tone firm. "I don't threaten."
"Jochi, put down your sword!" Batzorig shouted, walking towards the front of the military gate with Dawa, Chenghiz, and Haitao.
Jochi turned to look at Batzorig. "General... these..."
Batzorig shook his head. "Put away your sword." He slowly stepped forward and bowed gently to Chinua. "Fourth Princess, I am sorry for the misunderstanding."
"Fourth Princess?" Jochi muttered to himself, slowly withdrawing his sword from Hye's mocking smiling face.
Chinua pulled back her spear and dismounted. She walked back to Batzorig. "General," she said, "you shouldn't be up and walking."
"I am doing much better," Batzorig replied. "It's because of my age that the wound is healing much slower."
"Well, let Hye take a look at your wound when we're back in your tent," Chinua said, taking two steps past Batzorig. "Batzorig, your captains need to change the way they approach their fellow comrades. Such actions will be punished by military law in the future."
Batzorig nodded to Chinua.
The Eastern Military Camp materialized before Chinua, a sprawling collection of weathered tents and makeshift barracks nestled against the rugged landscape. Her gaze immediately fixed on the flag, a vibrant splash of color against the sky, snapping and soaring with the morning breeze. The sight stirred a deep tremor of determination within her, echoing the triumphant cries of eagles circling high above. Those powerful, wild calls fueled her resolve, whispering promises of victory and urging her onward to the daunting task of reclaiming Nue-Li City.
Yet, as her eyes truly registered the age and apparent disrepair of the old camp, a different emotion began to swell. The rough-hewn palisades and the worn canvas suggested a force that had weathered countless storms, yes, but also one that might be past its prime. The initial surge of confidence faltered, replaced by a wave of worry. How could this seasoned, yet seemingly dilapidated, camp be the foundation for such an ambitious conquest? The vastness of the task before her suddenly felt heavier, the path to Nue-Li City stretching out with unforeseen challenges.