Standing a distance from the foot of Whitefang Peak, Payam stared at the vast mountain range that separated him from the land he ached to conquer. He sighed, the weight of the task heavy in his heart.
"What's with the long face, Payam?" Koorush asked, walking up beside him and handing him a cup of warm water.
Payam's voice was heavy. "I was just thinking this is the fastest way into Hmagol."
Koorush chuckled, shaking his head at the remark. "You said it yourself, this is the very reason the Kosian have never invaded Hmagol."
"I did say that," Payam conceded. He pointed to a section of the peaks. "Do you know that on the other side of that mountain range lies Pojin, the wasteland of Hmagol?"
"I know, but why on earth would you want to take Pojin?" Koorush countered. "It's a wasteland with nothing but brutal mountain terrain."
The corner of Payam's lips curved into a soft, cynical sneer. "Pojin might be difficult to invade, but if Pojin fell, Hmagol would be a kingdom without an arm. It was also the fastest route to Ntsua-Ntu."
"Even if we get across the mountains to Pojin, it won't be easy," Koorush countered. "Pojin is still guarded by Chinua's replacement, and we'll have to face the Sarlan Hill bandits. By then, Ntsua-Ntu's reinforcements will have us trapped at the foot of Whitefang Peak with no escape."
"And that was precisely why King Yija refused to attack Pojin," Payam said. "He understood that concept, which is why he's never tried—he witnessed the Paayasian's many failed attempts."
Koorush turned to him, his tone serious. "So what's your plan?"
"The plan was the same as before: we wait for news from Lixin," Payam said, a confident smile spreading across his face. "The moment Nue-Li City fell, we bypass Zoaging and march straight there. If we're pushed back, we'll surround Zoaging and force their surrender."
"What about Suina?" Koorush pressed. "If we attack Zoaging, King Menglua will likely send his army to attack us."
"King Menglua won't make such a risky move," Payam replied. "He'll reinforce his soldiers to strengthen Suina's defenses instead."
"How can you be so sure?" Koorush asked.
"Who in their right mind would allow their capital to fall just to save a smaller city?"
A Ginmiao soldier, breath ragged, tore through Nue-Li City's south gate. He ran full-tilt toward Nta, who stood with a huddle of soldiers. "Captain! Captain!" the voice cut through the air.
Nta pivoted, his gut clenching at the sight of the soldier's terror-stricken face. He didn't need to hear the words; he already knew the news was grim.
"What is it?" he snapped.
The soldier came to a halt, bowing hastily. "One of the three messengers we sent out has returned, sir."
"Get on with it!" Nta's impatience flared.
"He's been badly wounded." The soldier held out a single, fletched arrow.
Nta snatched the arrow and, with a surge of anger, broke it cleanly in two. He ground his teeth together, the word a furious hiss on his lips: "Magoli..."
After his anger had subsided, Nta walked into General Chong's study. He found Long and Xao on his way, and the three captains entered together. Inside, the old general sat at a table, his gray hair an unmistakable halo over his dark hair, poring over a map of Nue-Li City.
Chong looked up, his eyes meeting theirs. He knew that whenever his three captains, who rarely got along, arrived together, the news was never good. He pushed the map aside. "What's wrong?"
Nta placed the two halves of the broken arrow on the table. "The messengers we sent out didn't get far," he said. "The one who survived and returned had this buried in his chest."
Chong picked up the half with the arrowhead and murmured, "This means..."
Xao let out a heavy sigh. "It means Nue-Li City is surrounded. This will be a tough war to win."
Chong set the broken arrow back down. "No matter how surrounded we are, someone must get word to Zoaging. Without reinforcements, we might not survive if the Hmagol decide to wage war against us."
Xao's voice was grim. "Winter is near. If I'm right, the Magoli will attack before then, and they'll cut off our supplies by blocking the road to Zoaging."
Long sighed, anger simmering in his tone. "Our border is secure. So how the hell did the Magoli get past us without being seen?"
"It's not possible for them to cross the Golden Triangle without us noticing," Nta began, a chilling dread creeping into his voice. "Therefore..." His heart sank as the terrifying conclusion dawned on him. "They... they climbed over Whitefang Peak."
A stunned silence fell over Xao and Long as they stared at Nta, their disbelief evident on their faces.
"Impossible," Xao stammered, his voice trembling. "They say no one can climb Whitefang Peak. How could a Magoli force have gotten over without being seen?"
Chong, a veteran of countless wars, offered a different thought. "Perhaps it wasn't the Magoli."
Long's brow furrowed. "Who then, General?"
"Someone else," Chong explained calmly. "Someone trying to plant fear in us, to make us take the wrong course of action for their own benefit."
"Those who are just watching, waiting for us to fall, so they can swoop in," Nta added, the pieces clicking together.
"The Razaasia?" Long asked, his eyes wide.
"Precisely," Xao snarled, the anger returning.
Long's gaze swept over Chong and the others. "But what if it is the Magoli standing between us and Zoaging?"
"That scenario is equally possible," Chong conceded. "Therefore, we must find a way to get a message to Zoaging, no matter what."
"Right now, if word gets out that an enemy army is blocking our path to Zoaging, do you think the civilians will still be willing to leave the city?" Nta added, his voice grim.
"Evacuation is no longer an option," Xao sighed, the finality in his tone undeniable.
Chong looked at Long. "Captain Long, send a message to Mayor Dae. Evacuating the civilians is no longer an option."
Long nodded, his expression grim.
"The east and west are sealed by Whitefang Peak," Chong stated, addressing his captains. "With ten thousand Magoli at our south gate, our only way out is north. But now, an unknown enemy waits there, too." He sighed, the sound heavy with despair. "Nue-Li City's darkest hours are yet to come. In this 'dark hour' war, we can only guess at the cost in lives."
He looked past his captains out into the open training ground. "The silence before the battle is the most haunting sound of all. It's the sound of prayers whispered for salvation, of goodbyes left unspoken, and of dreams that will never come to be. It's the silence of every life—soldier and civilian alike—that will be lost for a cause that history may one day forget. In this moment, I don't feel the fire of a warrior, but the cold, heavy weight of sorrow. We fight, we die, and for what? For the terrible, tragic hope that one day, this silence will truly be broken by peace."
Hye stood alone, his hand on the reins of his horse. The wind was a sharp, cold caress against his cheek as he watched the distant, barely visible flag of Nue-Li City flutter. In two days, that quiet dance would be replaced by the horrifying chorus of war—the screams of soldiers and the helpless cries of the innocent.
"There you are," Chinua's voice came from behind him, causing Hye to let out a heavy sigh.
"Is it time for dinner?" Hye asked, his eyes still fixed on the flag fluttering in the distance.
"Yes," Chinua replied, joining him with Khunbish at her side. She followed his gaze. "The peaceful days truly are numbered."
Hye let out a short, cynical scoff. It felt absurd to be so calm while talking about the inevitable war. "Chinua," he said, his voice dropping to a low whisper.
"What's on your mind? You know you can tell me anything," she said.
"I want you to live up to the promise you made," Hye said, his voice firming as he turned his head slightly to meet her gaze. "I don't want to see civilians and surrendered soldiers inhumanely murdered in front of that wall anymore."
"I will live up to my promise," Chinua affirmed without hesitation.
"Good," Hye said. He reached into his sleeve, handed her a single white handkerchief, and then mounted his horse. The horse slowly began to walk away.
"You know!" Chinua yelled after him. "We're having roasted chicken for dinner!"
Hye waved and yelled back, "I don't like chicken that much!"
Khunbish sighed. "Chinua, are you really going to let him go like that?"
A bright, happy smile flashed across Chinua's face. She said with absolute certainty, "Even if he stands opposite me, he will not oppose me."
"He said that?" Khunbish asked.
Chinua nodded.
"And you believe it?"
Chinua watched Hye slowly disappear into the distance towards Nue-Li City. She glanced at Khunbish, sighed, and then spoke, her voice a soft, "His last words weren't a plea for help, but a promise of peace. He walked towards the enemy line, his empty hands raised high, holding a white peace cloth. He had fought side by side with countless brothers and sisters, bled in the same mud, and cursed the same war. But in this final, silent act, he chose a different path—a path that would cost him everything, even his own life. He gave his life not for victory, but for the chance that our children and the children of our enemies would never have to know the sound of a sword clashing. His sacrifice wasn't just a loss for us; it was a final, desperate prayer for a world without enemies."