The moon hung high in the sky. Lydia Lien was still sitting atop the mountain ridge, leaning against a stone, quietly waiting—as if she herself did not know exactly what she was waiting for. Or perhaps, more accurately, she was waiting for a soul.
As a child, she often heard the elders say that after death, a person’s soul would return to their loved ones, look at them one last time, and then depart.
Thinking back, it had already been fifteen years. Fifteen years ago, after saving Henry Lien, Lydia brought him to the main clan of the Lien Tribe. From then on, Henry became the fifteen-year-old Lydia’s loyal companion. No matter what Lydia asked, Henry would carry it out to the letter, and the understanding between them grew ever deeper.
During the war between the Wynn Domain and the Sage Domain, when her strategy was opposed by her own clansmen and colleagues, Henry Lien quietly went ahead and executed her battle plan. In the end, they won the war.
Lydia Lien knew all too well what war truly was. She had prepared herself completely; even if she died on this land, she would not regret it. This was a war for her tribe, and even more so, a war launched so that the Wynn Domain would know no more conflict.
Tears began to flow uncontrollably again. Lydia wiped them away over and over, but the tears kept streaming out like a spring.
The moment she heard of Henry Lien’s death, something inside Lydia seemed to shatter. She kept asking the messenger over and over what Henry’s final moments had been like.
It was not until she could no longer bear the rage, when she began to lose control, that her loyal generals held her down. Only after a long while did she finally calm down.
All the generals in the tribe knew how important Henry Lien was to her, so none of them offered any comfort. They simply watched Lydia in silence. When she climbed the mountain, the generals remained waiting halfway up, hoping she would calm down.
It was not easy for a woman to rise to the position of Grand Commander. She had suffered many humiliations along the way, but Henry Lien had always stayed by her side. No matter how dangerous things became, she finally overcame it all.
"Sis, I think you're perfect for this position. Most of the time, you're tougher than any of us men."
Finally, Lydia Lien stood up. She tidied her hair and glanced north once more.
"Send the order: my troops are to march at full speed. We must arrive before dusk tomorrow."
"Alright, everyone get some rest. At sunrise tomorrow, we attack. Do not give the enemy any chance to catch their breath."
Bella Liang gave the order, and the generals began to disperse. Gus Bull’s hand had already been treated, but the pain was still intense—a large chunk of flesh had been cut away. For now, he couldn’t even grip a gun, and whether his hand could be saved was still uncertain.
"I’ve nearly recovered. Tomorrow, I’ll lead my generals into battle."
Cyrus Sage spoke, and Gus Bull smiled and shook his head.
"Don’t go too hard, Commander Cyrus. Just look at what happened to Cheng Qiang."
Gus Bull half-jokingly raised his injured hand. Cyrus Sage could only smile helplessly and shake his head.
"We’ve lost a capable general."
With those words, the smiles vanished from everyone’s faces. The deployment of troops, coordination between the army and reserves—Henry Lien had managed it all single-handedly. In this war, he did everything he could to support the front lines.
"Tomorrow, that woman might reach the battlefield."
Gus Bull muttered.
Bella Liang nodded.
"The soldiers are doing well. We’ve completely gained the upper hand in today’s battle. All we need is one final push tomorrow and the enemy will be finished. It’s the last day."
The hut was still thick with the smell of alcohol. Generals lay sprawled everywhere. A cold breeze swept through. Joseph Qiao, clutching his aching forehead, woke abruptly. All kinds of worries rushed in. Judging by the moonlight outside, he’d been asleep a long time. Now the moon was sinking in the west—dawn was not far off.
"Shh, don’t disturb them. Let them rest well."
James Grant made a quiet gesture to Joseph Qiao, signaling him not to shout. The two of them stepped outside and found a makeshift hut, where they sat down together.
"General Grant, dawn means battle. If we don’t wake the generals and set up effective tactics, the enemy will..."
"What do you think of the mountains on both sides of the main road?"
Joseph Qiao looked at James Grant with suspicion, deeply puzzled.
"No, if you want to use the surrounding mountains as high ground for defense—if I were the enemy commander, I’d have my soldiers surround this area and break down the mountains one by one."
James Grant nodded.
"General Qiao, I don’t mean to defend the mountains—I mean to use them."
Joseph Qiao looked at James Grant, confused by his words. Given the current situation, using the mountains for defense seemed impossible. The enemy would never take those mountain paths. If they did, they’d strike straight at Ji Capital, and the remaining troops on both sides of the road would be split apart.
James Grant stood up, walked to the window, and looked out at the moonlit night, smiling.
"Don’t you think the moonlight is beautiful tonight?"
Joseph Qiao glanced at him, then gave a helpless smile.
"It is beautiful. Just tell me, General Grant, what are you planning?"
The smile vanished from James Grant’s face. He stared coldly at Joseph Qiao.
"Do you really think we have a chance tomorrow? Look at those men, drunk and sprawled out—they’re a perfect reflection of this war. You saw it at the banquet, didn’t you? Boastful talk everywhere. They still haven’t realized what’s happening. They want to leave everything to you, or to Yuna Ji and her trusted generals, living in the illusion that we’re strong enough to win. With soldiers and an army like this, what chance do we really have?"
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"Are you suggesting a retreat?"
In an instant, Joseph Qiao understood what James Grant intended.
"No."
"I know it’s impossible. If we fall back to Grant City, all that awaits us is death. The enemy won’t launch a full-scale attack; they’ll besiege Grant City, keep up the pressure, and wait for an opening. As soon as we relax, they’ll storm the city all at once."
Everything James Grant said matched Joseph Qiao’s own thoughts. He knew that if they retreated now, the enemy’s main force would head straight for Grant City. What James Grant meant was to withdraw from the forests, harass the enemy’s advance from both sides, and buy time for the main force to retreat to Grant City.
Joseph Qiao couldn’t accept this proposal; it would only give the enemy a direct path to Grant City.
"If we just retreat, the enemy won’t show us any mercy. Small-scale harassment won’t cause real damage—they won’t even feel it."
James Grant nodded.
"I know. But you know what tomorrow’s clash will mean, General Qiao."
Joseph Qiao’s face darkened. There was still some time before dawn—enough for the troops to move. Some cavalry could remain on the main road; if the enemy didn’t advance, they wouldn’t notice the retreat. With added harassment, their own forces could head north. It would take an extra day, but they could still reach Grant City ahead of the enemy.
"If there’s another direct clash tomorrow, what do you think will happen? You’ve already lost twenty thousand cavalry, and half of my cavalry are gone too. If we go head-to-head again, nearly thirty thousand cavalry here will lose more than half, and the remaining six thousand soldiers—after today, we’ll be lucky to have thirty thousand left in total."
James Grant paused, then continued.
"Right now we still have nearly a hundred thousand soldiers, plus thirty thousand at your northern prairie outpost, and fifty thousand guarding the border of Grant Territory. In reality, we have just under two hundred thousand troops. Think carefully—is this really the time to fight the enemy to the death?"
Joseph Qiao thought quietly, then murmured.
"Don’t you still have your Jiang Territory..."
Suddenly, Joseph Qiao’s expression changed. He looked at James Grant, his face complex.
"They’re not coming? The soldiers from Jiang Territory?"
James Grant nodded without hiding anything.