Smoke billowed, thick clouds swirling in the air. In the southern granary, fierce flames roared, fanned by the wind, the fire surged like an ocean. Houses, fields, and everything that could burn had already been set ablaze.
The soldiers had already entered the western forests. Yuna Ji and the other generals stood at the edge of the woods, watching the distant inferno. Even at the forest's edge, the scorching heat in the air was palpable.
Everyone was thinking about Joseph Qiao's proposed counterattack: using the mountains surrounding Grant City in the west, the tangled, complex roads to split the enemy's main force, and then slowly wear them down.
"Joseph, when did you learn about those roads?"
Lucille Xing couldn't help but ask, puzzled. She had never heard Joseph Qiao mention that there were so many roads outside Grant City. Even after living in Grant City for many years, Lucille had no idea there were so many routes leading in.
Most of these roads were opened up after the war ended, so the Grant Family could travel quickly between tribes. At that time, food was scarce, and only the forests and lakes near Grant City had abundant supplies. The territory was still being cultivated, so convenient transportation was essential.
But as the tribes developed, many roads fell into disuse. Still, traces of them remained. Only three main roads were commonly used—the ones Lucille knew well, since she had traveled them all.
The enemy knew this too. The roads to Grant City were smooth and direct. Once the weather warmed, their entire army would surge forward, aiming to reach the fields and orchards below Grant City within three days—encircle the city, and finally take it.
This meant that within a single week, they had to mount an effective counterattack. If the enemy failed even once, their advance would be stalled. Then, by using the western terrain, the enemy would be forced to halt, and Grant City—once within reach—would become distant and unattainable.
On the grasslands near the western front, there were two strongholds. One was directly in front of the two main roads, reachable in less than half a day. These roads passed through some western tribes. The other stronghold was only a day's journey away, also very close, located above the other main road—a route that could bypass Grant City entirely.
The enemy would surely try to attack the stronghold in front of the two main roads. Joseph Qiao’s approach chilled many generals: abandon the stronghold, take everything movable, and burn it down. The enemy would lose their foothold for entering the forest. To guard against their forces at the northern stronghold, they would have to take a longer route to seize it first. If they didn’t, they would have to attack Grant City along the two main roads, but the troops in that stronghold could strike at any time. Either way, it would benefit the defenders.
The only thing to watch for was holding off the enemy’s assault in the western forests for a week.
Even if they took the northern stronghold, the enemy’s main force would be split up and unable to regroup quickly.
"Let’s go. Time to head back."
Yuna Ji turned her horse around. For a moment, a memory flashed in her mind—the first time she’d come to the southern granary with her eldest sister. Golden fields had spread before her eyes, and she’d cried out, leapt off her horse, and dashed into the fields, cheering.
"Don’t just run off like that."
Yuna Ji pressed her hand to her forehead and sneered. Lona Long glanced at her in confusion, then smiled and spoke.
"Did you remember something happy, Yuna?"
"Ah, just a little."
Smoke and fire swept through, leaving vast stretches of charred shelters—only traces remained. Bella Liang rode her horse; it was dusk before the flames finally died down. Nearly half the stronghold had been burned.
"It’s both good and bad. We took this stronghold, which can shelter three to four hundred thousand people through the winter, with minimal casualties."
"The enemy seemed intent on abandoning this stronghold from the start. We didn’t destroy many of their troops."
Gus Bull watched the soldiers entering the stronghold. On both sides and to the west, six breaches had already been made. The fighting from last night to today hadn’t been intense.
When the sixth breach was opened, the enemy began to break out and retreat, setting fire to the buildings inside. There was hardly any material left—the enemy must have prepared to evacuate early. Cyrus Sage, who had chased from the left, returned now, looking disappointed.
"The enemy really is decisive."
After Cyrus Sage returned, he remarked that the current situation was extremely favorable for them: fewer than twenty thousand soldiers were lost taking the stronghold—a very low casualty count. The enemy suffered about the same, and though they escaped, the defenders now held the last staging post for attacking Grant City, as well as a place to survive the winter.
Especially now in the south, both Wynn Domain and Sage Domain understood the situation well: the Zou Clan’s over three hundred thousand people had been utterly defeated, and southern grain was likely all gone. Yet neither side planned to send troops to help—both seemed to have accepted it. The Zou Clan’s extinction was a major advantage for them.
With fewer mouths to feed, the Zou Clan’s grain could supply Wynn Domain and Sage Domain.
These days, defeated remnants kept arriving from the south—most were dazed, desperate, and starving.
"As soon as spring comes next year, it’ll all be over in five days."
Gus Bull spoke with some regret. Bella Liang and Cyrus Sage both nodded in agreement—the consensus was clear: the Grant Family had lost its last line of defense. If they couldn’t break this stronghold by next spring, the war would be at a stalemate.
The southern raid had been a wake-up call. There were still many unknown routes in Grant Territory, and if the enemy made use of them, what had seemed like a straightforward war could become bogged down and complicated.
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"Have the soldiers hurry over—winter is just over ten days away."
Just then, a fast horse sped in from the distant gate.
"Report: The elders of the Zou Clan have agreed to provide us with grain for the winter. Grand Commander Liam Lien will personally oversee the transport."
Bella Liang showed a relieved smile.
"Looks like we don’t need to worry about grain anymore. What about the Northern Tribes? What should we do now?"
As Gus Bull spoke, Cyrus Sage glanced behind him—the Northern Tribes had gathered in the northwest, but there were only a little over thirty thousand.
"Let me go myself tonight. If they still refuse to integrate their soldiers into our deployment, then let them return home."
Cyrus Sage spoke, a hint of coldness in his eyes. Bella Liang and Gus Bull understood immediately and nodded.
Things couldn’t be simpler now. The situation was extremely favorable for Wynn Domain and Sage Domain. The Northern Tribes and Zou Clan, who had been waiting to divide Grant Territory, now had no strength left to negotiate. All thanks to the enemy’s decisive and wise strategy—start by picking off the weak.
"Let’s find a room to discuss. The real challenge is ahead. I don’t believe the Grant Family will just give up. They have less than one hundred thousand troops for direct confrontation, but in three months, they could train several more divisions—especially with ample supplies."
Cyrus Sage looked around and found a larger shelter. Bella Liang and Gus Bull followed. Once inside, they ordered the soldiers to guard the perimeter and let no one enter.
"First, Commander Cyrus, I want you to answer a question. Can you speak for Sage Domain?"
Cyrus Sage smiled and nodded. Instantly, Bella Liang and Gus Bull’s expressions changed—they looked surprised.
"I’ve never heard that the Sage King had a son like you."
Cyrus Sage shook his head.
"I was still young then. My eldest brother was already out of the running, so I naturally took his place. Maybe I was just lucky—as the son of a concubine, I rose to the top of power."
"Then that makes things much easier. Let’s discuss the future of Grant Territory."
Bella Liang spoke, her gaze serious as she looked at Cyrus Sage.
Snowflakes began falling early on the prairie. The white snow drifted down a week before the official start of winter, slowly turning the grasslands into a snowy expanse.
A faint sound of breathing—it had been ten days. Leonard Tang carried Stanley Tang’s corpse, walking alone toward the northwest. He’d entered the forest, and, gazing at the snow on the prairie, he sighed before smiling and speaking.
"Stanley, it’s snowing. It must be snowing in the north too. Every year at this time, everyone gathers together. Heh, do you remember? On days like these when we couldn’t go out, your uncle would tell you stories."
A painful wail sounded. A black, human-shaped shadow emerged from Stanley Tang’s body. Instantly, the evil spirit appeared on Leonard Tang’s shoulder. He pressed Stanley Tang’s soul back into the corpse, and Stanley wailed again.
"Don’t worry, Stanley. It’s painful now, but soon you’ll be free. Your uncle will find a way to save you and restore your mind."
Leonard Tang glanced back into the depths of the forest, then continued on. In a short while, he disappeared into the woods.
"Yuna’s arrived."
Lona Long looked at the stronghold ahead and said happily.
"Ah, but soon this stronghold will be gone."
Yuna Ji looked resolutely at the prairie behind her, now completely white. The enemy was preparing to spend the winter there, and anger flashed in her eyes.
"Hurry up—get inside the stronghold."