Flocks of birds soared overhead as the thunder of hooves echoed along the main road. On both sides, the mountain slopes were lined with soldiers armed with bows and arrows. Generals on horseback rode up and down the flanks, shouting for everyone not to panic and to keep moving forward.
Gus Bull stood quietly atop a nearby mountain ridge, observing the distant enemy. As expected, it was the enemy cavalry, and not just in one place—both flanks had been spotted with enemy cavalry units, five in total.
The small wave of attacks launched by the enemy earlier had already been repelled by his troops. The enemy made no further moves, instead circling the main force as if searching for a chance to strike.
At moments like this, the greatest fear was that the marching main force would fall into chaos if the enemy suddenly attacked. In that case, even without an enemy assault, a deadly stampede could erupt among their own ranks.
With the enemy so close, the soldiers could not remain indifferent. Despite the generals constantly issuing orders on both sides, the troops were visibly unsettled.
This had been the situation since yesterday. The enemy had seized the opportunity to launch a surprise attack, nearly causing the rear units to break apart. Fortunately, Gus Bull led the cavalry to halt the enemy's charge in time. Now, to ensure the main force could reach the plains ahead by tomorrow, nearly twenty thousand more men had been assigned to guard the flanks, occupying the mountain slopes and defending from above.
"Has the enemy made any move yet?"
Standing at the front of the narrow path, Joseph Qiao stared grimly at the distant slopes. The reply he received was that the enemy was marching as usual, not thrown into confusion by the imminent ambush. In fact, the enemy's flank defenders had already formed up, waiting for them to strike.
Joseph Qiao was still weighing his options. If they launched a raid now, they might disrupt the enemy's formation, but the cost would likely be devastating. All thirty thousand cavalry he had brought could end up buried here. The enemy's main force lay ahead, and because of the terrain, they couldn't charge through in an instant—only the narrow mountain paths offered a way forward.
By tomorrow, the enemy would reach the plains—a place that would decide the fate of the Grant Domain. For them, losing even a single battle was unacceptable; they could not afford such a reckless gamble.
"All units, retreat."
In the end, Joseph Qiao gave the order to retreat. The cavalry still played a crucial role on the battlefield, tasked with breaking through and dividing the enemy formations from the flanks. If they were lost here prematurely, the outcome would be certain.
"Why retreat? Qiao, we could wait for an opportunity—catch the enemy off guard for a moment and split their main force apart."
Phoenix Yu spoke with some frustration, but Joseph Qiao shook his head firmly.
"Pass down the order: the entire army is to withdraw to camp and rest for a day. Prepare for tomorrow's decisive battle."
"Report to Commander Gus Bull: the enemy has retreated."
Gus Bull plopped down, lifting his head and letting out a long sigh of relief. The greatest fear had been a direct, forceful enemy charge—while they might have annihilated the enemy, their own advance would have been completely stalled. If all went well, the first wave reaching the plains tomorrow could launch an attack, spreading out and charging straight ahead—the simplest and most brutal tactic.
"He who kills will be killed."
Gus Bull muttered under his breath. The enemy's decision to abandon a direct assault on the main force at the last moment was a wise one. They had their own difficulties, just as the enemy did.
Far down the main road, the troops quickened their pace, marching faster now. It was a race against time with the enemy. As soon as they arrived, the first wave would organize an attack—there was no time to lose. Gus Bull felt anxious, but he understood that his true responsibility was the safety of the main force.
"Pass down the order: search the surrounding forests. If you spot any sign of the enemy, immediately set off smoke signals."
On the mountain slopes, soldiers stood in broad daylight, each holding a torch—an absolute necessity. If they spotted the enemy, they could instantly ignite nearby vegetation, and the rising smoke would reveal the enemy's position. Gus Bull would then lead the cavalry to seize both sides of the main road and begin setting up defenses.
Joseph Qiao felt deeply frustrated; the number of usable troops was pitifully small. The cavalry formed the core of their tactical system and could not attack recklessly. Right now, there were only about 160,000 soldiers in total, with another 50,000 stationed on the northwestern border. He had repeated this many times—if Grant Domain advanced, only 20,000 would remain, and the other 30,000 would have to rush to the front lines.
"Qiao doesn't seem to be in a good mood. Drop it."
Terry Mao stopped Phoenix Yu, who was about to go argue with Joseph Qiao.
"Just watching the enemy advance and doing nothing—isn't that just waiting to die?"
"But if we attack, all our troops today could be wiped out."
Terry Mao said helplessly, but Phoenix Yu just shook her head.
"Even so, the enemy is in the same position. Their main force would suffer heavy losses and might not be able to threaten us. As long as we can chew through this tough bone, when our forces advance, the enemy will have to find a way to respond..."
"Then what about after that?"
Phoenix Yu fell silent.
"If there's no present, how can there be a future?"
The enemy still had at least 400,000 troops that hadn't moved yet—a problem they would have to face in the coming months. For now, though, the enemy only had a little over 100,000, comparable to their own numbers.
All along the way, many generals debated whether to launch a surprise attack and how to defend against the enemy tomorrow.
Joseph Qiao gazed anxiously at the distant sky. Before leaving, Yuna had told him to make his own judgment—he had come here to see the enemy's intentions firsthand. Now he understood: the enemy was advancing recklessly, seeking a quick decision. With superior numbers, they intended to crush them in one blow. Even if they could hold out for a short time, within a week, they might lose half their forces. When the enemy's main force advanced, it would all be over.
Now all they could do was pray that tomorrow's battle—and the flanking raids—would yield miraculous results. According to the current plan, a frontal engagement would require at least 15,000 cavalry on each flank to strike the enemy's sides once the fighting started, while a smaller cavalry force would support the infantry in a direct charge.
"Life or death—all depends on tomorrow."
Joseph Qiao snapped his riding whip and galloped away.
"What do you mean by that, exactly?"
James Grant glared angrily at Nathan Shea. He had only just left Jiang Capital a day before, and Nathan had already caught up with him. The two stood alone in the forest, Nathan's face twisted in a sinister grin.
"Just what it sounds like, James Grant. You're not planning to defy orders, are you?"
Nathan Shea produced a pale yellow stone engraved with a large 'Jiang' character—the king's command token. It was customarily carried by generals to deliver orders and ensure they were followed.
James Grant clenched his fists, glaring at Nathan Shea. Rage surged within him. The war had reached this point, and yet King Jiang was ordering him to let the Grant Family lose some troops before offering serious support. As for how to cover it up, he was left to figure that out himself.
"If you disobey, I can't guarantee what will happen. General Grant, you'd better watch yourself. I'll be keeping a close eye on you—every move you make. After all, King Jiang ordered me to supervise the battle. How you handle things is up to you; I won't interfere."
Distrust. The word flashed through James Grant's mind—this was proof that King Jiang didn't trust him at all. If he really trusted him with the war, he would never have sent Nathan Shea.
"What's the problem, Grant? What's so difficult about this? Just kill him."
A cold voice came from the woods—it was Tan Tian. He walked over step by step, but James Grant shook his head.
"It's precisely because I can't do anything about him that I'm so angry, Master."
To stand by and watch the Grant Family lose a battle—after so many years on the battlefield, he couldn't do it. The internal struggle was tearing him apart. It was nearly dusk, and tonight they would reach the front lines.
"What's wrong, General Grant? You don't look well. Is something the matter?"
Aaron Lin watched James Grant emerge from the woods. Instinctively, he disliked the approaching general, Nathan Shea, whose very presence radiated a sinister energy. Both he and Mason Mao agreed on this; whenever Nathan appeared, it was never good news—he always acted arrogant and overbearing.
"It's nothing. Let's keep moving."
James Grant's expression softened. He mounted his warhorse and ordered the entire army to move quickly—they had to reach the front before the moon set in the west.
A simple defensive obstacle was already in place. Ahead lay the plains, with an enormous crossroads nearly a hundred meters wide. Two rows of wooden spikes had been erected, and behind them stood the Grant Domain's troops.
Night had fallen. Rows of cavalry entered the temporary defensive outpost, and inside a large shelter, a heated discussion was underway.
"Everyone, quiet down."
Joseph Qiao called out, and as the room quieted, he pointed to the map hanging directly opposite.
"Once the enemy arrives tomorrow, they'll definitely attack. They won't wait or give us any breathing room. So tomorrow, Terry Mao, Zhao Peng, Lu Xing, and I will lead the cavalry. We'll strike from the south, Zhao Peng, your unit from the north—but only after the main battle begins. Then, we'll rush into the enemy's center, launch a surprise attack, split the battlefield, and annihilate them."
All the generals exchanged glances. On their side, there were fewer than 10,000 cavalry in the main battle, while the enemy had at least 30,000.