A strange, heavy silence filled the entire shack. No one spoke. They only stared at the half-crazed Stanley Tang, who pointed at them with trembling fingers, his face twisted in grief and fury, shouting as tears streamed down his cheeks.
"Our Northern Tribes held back the Grant Family for your sake, bought you precious time to enter their territory. Have you all forgotten? Was it all for nothing? My clansmen—they are living, breathing people! They have wives, sons, daughters, fathers and mothers waiting for them to return to the North, to celebrate the coming spring together. And now, there is nothing left."
Lydia Lien sat back down, her face pale and troubled, but said nothing. Cyrus Sage rose, walked over, and smiled gently.
"Don’t worry. You still have ten thousand soldiers left, don’t you? They’re just scattered. They should..."
Stanley Tang immediately shoved Cyrus Sage away, laughing manically.
"After that massacre, my tribal soldiers were scattered to the winds. Three days later, the sandstorms began. They fled with nothing, and on these prairies, once you lose your way, there’s only death. I’ve visited so many northern tribes over these days, but few of my soldiers ever returned. When I came here, there were barely three hundred left. Now, there are just over five hundred, without horses, forced to shelter in other tribes’ camps. Ha..."
Bella Liang felt a pang of guilt inside, his conscience gnawing at him. The northern tribes had wanted to reap the benefits without risk, especially after the great victory at the central pass. Their movements were slow, and some even claimed to be lost, refusing to advance toward the front lines in the central prairie.
Though it was their own fault, after the northern tribes betrayed the Grant Family and started the war, they did help Wynn and Sage Domains greatly—gathering troops, transporting supplies. All of this took a lot of time.
The Grant Family was powerful then, and destroying the northern tribes wouldn’t have been difficult. But those tribes, hidden in the forests and mountains, had natural advantages, and the Grant Family dared not attack recklessly. Even if they won, their military strength would be severely weakened.
It was precisely because the northern tribes held them back that the Grant Family had to swallow their anger and prepare for war, watching as Wynn and Sage Domain armies poured into the north, opening roads, moving supplies, learning the terrain.
Back then, it was said that Edward Grant, the eldest son, always pushed for an attack, but in the end the Grant Family and other tribes refused. There was too much at stake to start a war rashly. While the Grant Family hesitated, Wynn and Sage Domains launched a massive spring offensive, quickly devouring a third of Grant territory and seizing the southern grain fields and some central pastures.
"Heh, you’ll regret this. If you’d sent your armies and killed Yuna Ji back then, the Grant Family would have been finished. She’s not human—not human at all..."
Stanley Tang sobbed and staggered out, leaving the room heavy with tension.
"It looks like the northern tribes are finished. Even cavalry won’t help now. Just get them moving toward the center as fast as possible. Send word—dispatch liaison soldiers and make sure the northern tribes move out immediately."
Gus Bull spoke, and no one objected. In just over a week, more than twenty thousand people had been slaughtered. The horror of it made everyone present uneasy.
"Normally, it wouldn’t come to this. Either you take them back as slaves, or you let them go."
Bella Liang commented. Even Lydia Lien, who usually saw soldiers as expendable, now showed a flicker of emotion in her eyes, deeply shaken.
"It’s late. Rest for now, everyone. Maybe tomorrow will bring better weather."
Cyrus Sage spoke and stood up, but his smile was stiff. In his mind, a vague image of a young girl appeared. He’d never met Yuna Ji, only heard stories of the battle at the central pass. The enemy’s morale was shattered by Sophie Grant’s death, and the overwhelming pressure of their armies. No one could ignore it. But Yuna Ji’s reckless charge had forced the enemy to retreat from the front.
"Maybe I’m just overthinking it. After all, she’s not even sixteen yet."
As he left the shack, Cyrus Sage muttered under his breath.
In the steaming wooden tub, Yuna Ji lounged comfortably, Lucille Xing to her left and Lona Long to her right. All three wore relaxed, happy expressions.
Outside, Sebastian Zhao stood guard.
"The water’s nice, isn’t it? A lot of people have gone to bathe in the river."
"If you dare peek at me, I’ll gouge your eyes out when I get out."
Lucille Xing snapped. Sebastian Zhao leaned against the shack’s wooden pillar, laughing heartily.
"Tomorrow’s supposed to be good weather, and the wind’s died down. The night sky is beautiful. Besides, I wouldn’t do something so boring—though I’d like to see, too."
Water splashed. Suddenly, the shack door swung open and Lucille Xing stepped out, wrapped in a long tiger skin. Her hair hung loose and wet, but she was captivated by the night’s beauty. Tonight, the stars were especially bright, glittering across the sky.
"Back then, we’d watch the stars like this with Sister Sophie Grant. Do you remember?"
Sebastian Zhao nodded.
"That was the first year after Joseph Qiao’s liberation, wasn’t it? Edward Grant, that fool, challenged me to a duel as soon as I arrived in Grant City. It was Sister Sophie Grant who stopped him—she knew Edward was no match for me."
Sebastian Zhao spoke, his nose tingling with emotion. He rubbed his nose, while Lucille Xing crouched beside him, laughing.
"Even though he was such a fool, I still blame myself deeply for not seeing him one last time."
Lucille Xing placed a hand gently on the back of Sebastian Zhao’s head, patting softly as she whispered.
"Don’t say that—Yuna’s still here!"
Yuna Ji, soaking in the bath, heard everything clearly, but her face showed no emotion. Lona Long smiled, watching Yuna Ji, who was now a resolute warrior—not the playful girl she once was.
"My big brother was a fool, even in death!"
Yuna Ji muttered. She’d heard from the surviving soldiers that Edward Grant could have escaped, but Lucille Xing hadn’t arrived from the left pass, and the enemy already controlled the central road. He should have left, but he turned back.
"As my second brother used to say, big brother’s impulsiveness always caused trouble. And it proved true—he was the tribe’s leader, yet insisted on showing off and left this heavy burden to me."
"Yuna..."
Lona Long watched Yuna Grant’s face in silence. Tears dripped steadily into the basin, yet her expression remained resolute and cold, unchanged.
Lona hadn’t expected Yuna Grant, who had turned herself into a bloodthirsty monster, to cry. She reached out, wanting to comfort Yuna, but was pushed away.
Yuna Grant stood up, tears still streaming down her face, but her voice was chilling as she spoke.
"I don’t cry. I don’t feel pain. The one who’s crying is just that other self. Leave me alone for a while."
Lona finished dressing behind her, nodded, and left. She called for Sebastian Zhao and Lucille Xing, leaving Yuna Grant sitting silently on the bed, water still dripping from her hair.
"Don’t let me cry in front of others, Yuna."
"No, I was just thinking about my brothers. It hurts inside..."
For an instant, Yuna Grant’s face was overwhelmed with sorrow, but it quickly turned ice-cold again.
"Crying solves nothing. If tears could win this war, I’d cry myself dry. But now I am the ruler of the Grant Domain. A king has no tears. If you understand, bury those sad memories—they’ll only distract me in battle."
"I understand. I won’t dwell on these sorrows anymore."
A strange smile appeared on Yuna Grant’s face.
"Good. Leave it to me. If you want to cry or laugh, wait until every enemy is dead. Then I’ll sleep, and everything will be yours—and those nine others."
At dawn, the soldiers—rested and well-fed—began moving again. Before sunrise, Sebastian Zhao and Lona Long led a group of energetic troops away, continuing the search for northern tribes.
The troops had assembled. At the entrance of the shelters, soldiers and generals waited respectfully for Yuna Grant and Lucille Xing.
When the two appeared, Yuna Grant scanned the crowd and issued her orders.
"Move at a steady pace. Sentries on watch must report back regularly—any sign of enemy movement."
The cavalry began to move out, heading northwest across the plains.
The sun began to set. In the Wynn Domain’s camp, soldiers rested after enduring the torment of the sandstorm. The nearby river was still muddy, and many fetched water, filtering out sand with numb hands.
Bella Liang looked pale. Every commander and general present wore a look of shock. Some messengers who’d left at midnight had returned, reporting two northern tribal camps massacred—corpses everywhere, birds and beasts feasting on the dead.
As the soldiers described the carnage, several retched repeatedly. No human could do such things.
Rumors now spread among the troops that the enemy would slaughter every survivor after victory. The stories grew wilder—some said the defeated were killed in unspeakably cruel ways, their blood drunk and flesh eaten.
"Send my orders: Strictly forbid discussion of these matters. Severe punishment for violators."
Gus Bull shouted immediately, his eyes full of worry as he looked at the soldiers outside. Bella Liang stood by the door.
"In war, nothing disrupts the troops more than fear."