The winter morning sun warmed the snow-covered mountains and forests, enveloping Grant City in a shimmering blanket of white. The western gate was bustling with activity—soldiers, reserve troops, and heavily laden cattle and horses, all led by people, steadily entered the city.
Outside the city, recruitment was underway. In a large harvested field to the left of the gate, many people stood in line, waiting for food distribution and housing arrangements.
All males aged twelve and above were required to join the military, though there were many women present as well—there was no restriction by gender.
Several generals were busy assigning new recruits to their quarters, preparing them for training that would begin at noon. The recruitment had continued for five days, and nearly thirty thousand had been enlisted.
Most were residents of Grant Territory, but many had lost their tribal homelands. With the enemy’s army pressing in, they had no choice but to retreat to Grant City. Many faces showed confusion and uncertainty.
Yet one thing united them all—they had heard of the two major victories led by Yuna Ji, and this gave them a sliver of confidence.
"Princess Yuna has returned."
A loud shout rose up, and those entering the gate turned their heads to look down the main road. Yuna Ji rode in slowly on horseback, and cheers erupted from the crowd.
It had been months since her last return, yet Grant City remained unchanged. Calmly, Yuna Ji entered the city amid the cheers, while Joseph Qiao and the others behind her mounted their horses and got to work.
"Yusheng, things are looking good—almost thirty thousand now."
Just past the recruitment office, a general beamed and said, Joseph Qiao nodded.
"We need to start training as soon as possible. As I mentioned before, the formation of several units will begin first thing tomorrow morning."
"Yusheng, the enemy must be in despair by now, don't you think?"
Joseph Qiao forced a stiff smile.
"Maybe."
The situation was far from optimistic. Everything depended on the enemy's choices come spring, but no matter what, they could not afford to lose the first battle.
"Find me some people who know the routes around Grant City. The soldiers need to familiarize themselves with the area this winter."
Inside a spacious wooden lodge, several pale-faced people sat in silence. Lydia Lien sat to one side, with Lian Huo standing behind her. Beside them, Gu Niu watched Lydia Lien with a grave expression.
At the head of the lodge sat Mark Zou, his complexion pale and sickly. He had only just returned from the southern granaries that morning and had just eaten. Days of fear and cold had left him tormented, and upon his return, something completely unexpected awaited him.
Though weak, Mark Zou's face was filled with fury. The Zou Clan had lost 150,000 people in this campaign—at the southern granaries, more died of hunger and cold than in battle. For the Zou Clan, it was a devastating loss.
"What exactly do you mean, Uncle?"
"Mark Zou, I mean exactly what I said."
In an instant, Mark Zou was so angry he pounded his chest and stomped his feet. He wanted to stand, but his whole body trembled.
"You are no longer fit to lead the Zou Clan. It's time for you to step down as chieftain and focus on your recovery."
Mark Zou glanced at Lydia Lien in the corner. He knew full well it was because of that woman. Seeing the cold smile at the corner of Lydia Lien's mouth, Mark Zou realized the five elders of the clan had unanimously decided to remove him as chieftain.
It was all decided while he was away from the clan—they had held their own discussions. The truth was undeniable: under his command, nearly half the troops had been lost in the war.
"Commander Lydia Lien, I am willing to follow your orders, I..."
"This is your clan's internal matter. I'm only here for the supplies."
Mark Zou stared blankly at Lydia Lien, his chest tightening with pain. He had indeed suffered a crushing defeat—most of his generals were dead, men he had cultivated for years in the Zou Clan, all loyal to him. Nearly thirty generals perished at the southern granaries; only a handful returned with him.
His cousin would now assume the powers of chieftain. Mark Zou glared fiercely at his uncle, Ned Zou. His father had warned him to beware of his uncle, so for years he kept military power to himself, leaving internal affairs to Ned Zou.
But now, all the generals who managed the troops were gone—few remained who could speak for him.
"There has never been such a precedent. I am the chieftain of the Zou Clan, now and always."
Mark Zou shouted in agitation, but Ned Zou just shook his head.
"Do you not hear the curses of the entire clan? Mark Zou, this defeat was caused by your arrogance. Your generals were useless—they couldn't even guard the prisoners. In the end, Grant Family cavalry wiped them out, so many died. Being chieftain is not an excuse. Your reckless behavior has gone far enough."
Ned Zou sneered as he stood up. Mark Zou looked miserably at Lydia Lien. He had tried to curry favor with Lydia, promising that after subduing Grant Territory, the Zou Clan would become a subordinate tribe to the Lien Clan, though he had his own hidden motives.
Though he claimed he would follow the Wynn Domain generals' orders, in truth, his own generals never respected them. In the south, Wynn generals repeatedly urged to strengthen defenses and prevent enemy ambushes.
But Mark Zou's generals ignored all of it. When he went south, a trusted Wynn general—one of Lydia Lien's confidants—approached him, but Mark Zou refused, claiming he was busy with the autumn harvest.
In the end, the enemy cavalry did charge out from the southern forests. It was too late. During those days hiding in the woods, Mark Zou realized he was not fit to lead troops, and neither were his generals—none were truly capable.
Mark Zou even remembered long ago, when Joseph Qiao visited Zou City, supposedly to assess the Zou Clan's military strength. Joseph stayed just over a day, discussed the war briefly with Mark Zou's generals, and then left without another word.
At the time, Mark Zou saw the utter contempt in Joseph Qiao's eyes and was so furious he wanted to kill him then and there.
"Give me one more chance, Commander Lydia Lien."
Mark Zou looked sadly at Lydia Lien. At this moment, Lydia stood up, took a sip of hot water, and smiled.
"Save those words for my general after you die."
As soon as Lydia Lien finished speaking, soldiers entered and dragged Mark Zou to his feet. Weakly, he looked at Lydia Lien, knowing this was her revenge. The dead general had been Lydia's confidant. Now, regret was useless. Seeing Ned Zou's gleeful smile, Mark Zou broke down in tears.
Gu Niu sighed silently, then spoke.
"Just a farce, nothing more."
"Commander Lydia Lien, Commander Gu Niu, thank you. From now on, the Zou Clan will fully cooperate with Wynn Domain, as long as..."
"Spare me the pleasantries."
Lydia Lien replied indifferently, then glanced around at the cheerful faces.
"I hope you remember—if anything like this happens again, you will have only yourselves to blame."
With that, Lydia Lien left the lodge. The sound of crying echoed—Mark Zou was being taken away by the soldiers. He would be kept under house arrest, spending the rest of his life confined, never to leave.
"Hmph, such a bunch of trash. I really can't understand how they ever rose to such high positions in Grant Territory. Looks like the Grant Family has lost its touch."
Back inside, Lydia Lien muttered, while Lian Huo shook his head helplessly.
"I heard that in the past, during the wars in Grant Territory, the Zou Clan contributed greatly. That’s how they earned this land."
"A tribe that is outwardly kind but full of intrigue inside will never last. You agree, don’t you?"
As Lydia Lien spoke, she looked at Lian Huo, who nodded.
"Sis, don’t worry. Even though you’re not the heir, everyone in our clan supports you—even Jie does."
"Maybe. My elder brother isn’t talented, but he’s certainly resentful about it."
Lian Huo gazed thoughtfully at Lydia Lien, then shook his head.
"No, Sis. When we left, Jie said I should do everything to help you. He even told me to bring out the clan’s best soldiers and generals."
Lydia Lien burst out laughing, then stood up.
"Every second spent in this place is unbearable. When the war ends, let’s wipe out these trash once and for all."
Lian Huo nodded.
Terry Mao quietly watched the Jiang Territory soldiers waiting for him across the river. He led more than a hundred people slowly across the bridge.
"Ah, you must be General Terry Mao. Please, come in."
A Jiang Territory general spoke. Terry Mao nodded, glancing back at Grant Territory. His expression grew serious. This trip to Jiang Territory, he had to persuade James Grant—there was no other way. James Grant now commanded most of the army and had King Jiang’s trust. If he could convince him, Jiang Territory would send troops.
"By the way, General Terry Mao, may I ask—how many soldiers are left in Grant Territory?"
Terry Mao smiled and replied.
"More than two hundred thousand, I’d say."