"Do not go south."
Ren Hao's voice echoed through the cold village square.
"That place is no longer home."
The villagers stared at him as if they had misheard.
For a long moment no one spoke. Then whispers began spreading among them.
Abandon their homeland?
Even if it had already fallen into enemy hands, even if the empire had abandoned them… the idea still struck their hearts like a blade.
Yet another thought quickly followed.
If they remained here forever, what future awaited them?
The centaur raiders had not appeared for the past ten days.
But what about tomorrow?
Or the day after?
Ren Hao stepped forward again and spoke calmly.
"Do not be afraid."
"I have brought weapons."
He gestured toward the carts.
"And I brought people from Frostwall Province—people who refused to kneel before the noble families."
His gaze turned toward the elders.
"You elders know this village better than anyone."
"The centaur tribes slaughtered many of our people."
"Empty houses remain."
"Empty farmland remains."
"Let the newcomers live here."
He pointed toward the refugees standing behind him.
"Winter has arrived."
"A lone wolf dies."
"A pack survives."
"Only by standing together will we have a future."
The villagers fell silent.
They knew Ren Hao was right.
They had no other choice.
The refugees who had returned with him already accepted him as their leader.
Among the villagers themselves, Ren Hao was also the strongest.
Ever since awakening the **Dragon Vein**, he had become something more than human.
A man carrying the blood of a dragon.
More importantly…
He had personally killed centaur warriors.
None of the others had such experience.
After a long discussion among themselves, the elders finally stepped forward.
In their hands they carried a carefully wrapped wooden plaque.
The wood was dark and cracked.
Dried blood stained its surface.
It had clearly been shattered by a sharp blade long ago, then roughly glued back together with resin.
An old elder spoke slowly.
"Our settlement once belonged to **Shanwu County**, within the **Ashen Frontier**, under the rule of the Crimson Sun Empire."
He lifted the plaque.
"This token represents authority over all lands within ten li."
"Many nearby villages were destroyed during the chaos."
"We do not know how many still survive."
"This region was once the grazing ground for the prefect's warhorses."
"Most of those horses were white."
"Therefore this place was named…"
He raised the plaque.
"**White Horse Pavilion**."
The elder's voice grew heavier.
"The former Pavilion Chief was killed by centaur raiders years ago."
"The imperial army abandoned this land soon after."
"No new official was ever appointed."
"So we buried the broken token of authority in the fields."
He looked at Ren Hao.
"While you were in Iron Gate City…"
"We dug it out."
"We repaired it."
"And we all agreed on one thing."
"If we cannot return south…"
"If we must survive here…"
"Then you will become our new **Pavilion Chief**."
Ren Hao accepted the plaque without hesitation.
No one else could command these people.
No one else dared take responsibility.
He slipped the broken plaque into his belt.
Then he gave his first order.
"All young men and women, step forward!"
"Come collect your weapons!"
"Open the granary."
"Feed the brothers who returned from Frostwall Province."
"Let them rest tonight."
The quiet village instantly exploded into activity.
Weapons were distributed under Ren Hao's direction.
First he selected **forty hunters and herdsmen** with sharp eyes.
These became the **archer unit**.
The bows he had purchased were light-draw hunting bows, easy to use.
Each archer received twenty arrows.
Some also carried knives, hatchets, or wooden clubs for close combat.
Next came **forty young villagers** armed with shields and hand-axes.
They formed the **front line**, responsible for blocking arrows.
Behind them stood **forty warriors carrying long halberds**.
Their role was to strike enemies and hook away shields.
The third line consisted of **forty of the strongest villagers**, armed with long spears nearly three meters in length.
Their job was simple.
Kill.
The final rank contained **forty older men and women** wielding massive formation pikes nearly five meters long.
They did not need complicated techniques.
They only needed to hold the line.
Daggers and hatchets were tucked into belts everywhere as backup weapons.
Within hours the foundation of a proper infantry formation had appeared.
Shield line.
Halberd line.
Spear line.
Pike line.
Archers behind.
Five warriors working together formed the smallest combat unit.
A **squad**.
By nightfall the small village of barely three hundred people now possessed **two hundred soldiers**.
Only three riders existed in the entire force.
Ren Hao.
Valerian Stormrider.
Captain **Yuna Frostmane**.
Ren Hao quickly organized the fighters according to imperial military structure.
Five soldiers formed a squad.
Two squads formed a platoon.
Five platoons formed a company.
Two companies formed a battalion.
After several contests of strength, the most capable warriors were chosen as leaders.
The two battalion commanders became **Ren Hao** himself and **Valerian Stormrider**.
With weapons in their hands and neighbors standing beside them, the villagers' fear slowly faded.
They were no longer helpless prey.
The elders soon began assigning houses.
Then several sheep captured from the centaur pens were slaughtered.
A great pot of mutton stew was prepared.
The refugees who had gone weeks without meat devoured the food like starving wolves.
During the feast Ren Hao stood and raised his voice.
"Brothers."
"These hard days will not last forever."
"We only need to endure until next February."
"When that time comes…"
"I will lead you toward a better future."
His voice was calm.
But his words carried unbreakable certainty.
The villagers responded immediately.
"Yes, Pavilion Chief!"
"We will follow you!"
"Just give the order!"
Ren Hao nodded.
"Then tomorrow we begin training."
"The wheat has already been harvested."
"We have no other work."
"If we want to survive this winter…"
"We must rely on ourselves."
The villagers shouted their agreement.
After the feast houses were assigned.
However the empty homes were still too few.
Many people squeezed together in the same buildings.
Ren Hao's own house became crowded with several guests.
Captain **Yuna Frostmane** entered first.
Behind her came the bound centaur shaman **Dugu Yan**.
The tall centaur women nearly filled the entire room.
Near the stove sat **Orin Moonveil** and his daughter **Aurelia Moonveil**, warming themselves beside the fire.
Orin whispered gently to his daughter.
"Look carefully, Chan'er."
"That man with the strange eyes."
"He saved us in Iron Gate City."
"He gave us horses."
"He led us safely all the way here."
Aurelia peeked nervously at Ren Hao.
"I… I remember him…"
Her voice trembled slightly.
Ren Hao's eyes were unsettling.
His strange double pupils made the darkness of his irises almost swallow the whites completely.
Only four golden points of light shone inside them.
In dim light they looked like tiny stars drifting through darkness.
"Thank him properly," Orin said softly.
"He is our benefactor."
"If something happens to me…"
"You must listen to him from now on."
The little girl hesitated.
Then she stepped forward timidly and bowed.
"Th-thank you… uncle…"
Before Ren Hao could respond she hurried back into her father's arms.
Ren Hao sighed.
"Stop speaking about death in front of the child."
"Why do you keep saying such things?"
Orin smiled bitterly.
"I know my own body."
"When I was younger… I lived too wildly."
"My health is ruined."
"Reaching thirty years old is already more than I expected."
Ren Hao froze.
"You're only thirty?!"
The man looked closer to fifty.
Orin simply laughed quietly and said nothing more.