On the morning grasslands, the cold wind swept through, accompanied by frequent sneezes. In some places, the withered grass was already covered in frost, and the temperature kept dropping. For the soldiers on guard, especially at dawn, it was a nightmare.
More and more soldiers showed varying degrees of frostbite, their hands and feet swollen. Though they tried to ward off the cold with campfires, the front was warm but the north remained icy. No matter what they did, the chill was unbearable.
As if waiting for something, the soldiers watched the eastern sky at first light, silently hoping for the sun to rise quickly. At least the clouds that had shrouded the camp for days had finally dispersed—it would be a clear day.
Ben Liang was up early. Over the past few days, his eyes had recovered a lot. After some exercise, he ordered the soldiers to drill—this was the best way to fight off the cold.
Many soldiers actually seemed relieved when they heard about the drills; if there was morning training, it usually meant there would be no attack.
Shouts echoed across the grasslands as Ben Liang patrolled the camp on horseback. He spotted some soldiers gathered around the fire, talking animatedly in hushed voices. Dismounting, he walked behind the shed.
“Hey, you didn’t see it, did you? I rushed back last night—the scene was awful, not something a human could do. Corpses everywhere, the ground stained dark red, guts and eyeballs, severed hands and feet scattered all around. I even had nightmares when I got back.”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“I saw it too, at the edge of the woods—those bodies hanging up, it was terrifying. I ran back as soon as I saw it. I don’t want to die.”
In an instant, Ben Liang strode over angrily, while one of the soldiers was still boasting loudly.
“Anyway, I don’t want to go to the battlefield anymore. We’re the ones charging ahead, and I’ve lost so many brothers and friends at the pass. Besides, the enemy’s stronghold is so hard to take. Haven’t we already achieved our goal? Once we move our people here and take over the pastures and granaries, no one will go hungry. The enemy won’t dare attack rashly, so by then...”
The talking soldier pinched the one next to him. He felt a chill down his spine and slowly turned around. Instantly, all the soldiers stood up in a line.
“Go drill. Now.”
Ben Liang shouted angrily. The soldiers immediately dispersed. He had wanted to execute those who spoke demoralizing words, but he was powerless. News of the Grant Family’s soldiers slaughtering enemies was everywhere these days. Fear was spreading silently, and at an unstoppable pace.
The only solution was to capture the stronghold ahead.
Watching the flickering firelight, Ben Liang rubbed his hands together. Ever since hearing Stanley Tang’s roar that night, he’d felt uneasy. These soldiers were human too. For the sake of the interests of the Wynn Domain and Sage Domain, they went to war—no one wanted to see war.
When he was very young, Ben Liang had heard a saying: 'Better to be a slave in times of peace than a man in chaotic times.'
In his youth, he joined the war to win glory for his clan. Back then, he believed a man should earn honor on the battlefield, to be admired by future generations. But now, he no longer thought that way. Every night, he dreamed the enemy would surrender or give up—anything to end the war sooner.
Staring at the animal skeleton by the campfire, stripped bare of flesh, Ben Liang muttered to himself.
“In the end, all war leaves behind is bones. Nothing else.”