The ride back to Shen City was quieter than the march out.
The wind no longer carried urgency.
It carried the smell of iron and smoke.
Behind them, the western plains held fresh graves.
They had won.
But victory was never clean.
At the city gates, people had already gathered.
Word had traveled faster than horses.
When the cavalry appeared on the horizon, a murmur spread through the crowd.
They were returning.
Alive.
As Qin Wang Shan rode through the gates, he did not raise his hand in triumph.
He did not smile.
He dismounted immediately.
"Report the injured first," he ordered.
Physicians rushed forward.
Wounded soldiers were carried inside.
Some walked on their own.
Some did not.
The people watched in silence.
This was no glorious parade.
It was the reality of protection.
Commander Han approached quietly.
"Casualties are fewer than expected," he reported. "The elite unit performed well."
Qin Wang Shan nodded.
But his gaze rested on a stretcher being carried past.
One young soldier—barely more than a boy.
Still breathing.
Barely.
Training had reduced losses.
But not erased them.
War always demanded payment.
Later that night, Qin Wang Shan visited the infirmary.
Oil lamps burned low.
The air smelled of medicine and blood.
He stopped beside the injured soldier's bed.
The boy's hand trembled weakly.
"Your Highness…" the soldier whispered.
"You fought well," Qin Wang Shan replied softly.
The boy managed a faint smile.
"I didn't run."
"No," the prince said quietly. "You stood."
And that was enough.
Outside the city, patrols were doubled.
Messengers were sent to nearby villages.
Shen City would not appear weak again.
Yet Qin Wang Shan understood something deeper.
This attack had not been random.
The enemy had been organized.
Disciplined.
Testing strength.
Someone had pushed them forward.
From a distant plain, the surviving nomadic warriors regrouped under their leader.
The man removed his helmet slowly.
"This city…" he muttered.
"They are no longer prey."
A subordinate asked carefully, "Do we attack again?"
The leader shook his head.
"Not without stronger backing."
His gaze turned eastward.
Toward lands controlled by imperial influence.
This conflict was no longer simple.
Back in Shen City, Qin Wang Shan stood upon the walls once more.
The stars shone coldly overhead.
Commander Han joined him.
"We proved ourselves," Han said.
"Yes," Qin Wang Shan replied.
"But proving strength invites stronger enemies."
Han was silent.
The prince's eyes hardened.
"Good."
If enemies were coming—
He would be ready.