Trickling streams parted across the land, and where the plains were once blanketed in white, hints of green now emerged. Ice melted, life revived, and the bitter cold had faded away. From the forest, the sound of hooves echoed.
A strong horse burst out from the forest road, ridden by the petite Yuna Grant. More and more cavalry surged from the woods, gathering on the plain. The horses lowered their heads to graze on the fresh shoots and drank from the newly formed streams.
The troops were still assembling. This time, only cavalry had been mobilized—nearly forty thousand riders. This was the last fighting force of the Grant Family, their target the enemy stronghold ahead of the central woods.
The generals gathered together, preparing for a brief rest before a swift assault. Their goal was to catch the enemy off guard; with such a large force, it would be difficult for the enemy to move south quickly.
"Listen up, everyone. Once we reach the stronghold, assess the situation. If it's already abandoned, Phoenix Yu and I will lead ten thousand cavalry in pursuit; the rest will head straight for the central pass."
The last southern campaign was won against overwhelming odds by instilling these lessons, victory born of accumulated fundamentals.
These were lessons taught to him by his father since childhood. Now, Joseph Grant finally understood his father's intent. Yuna Grant seemed to be in good spirits, her usually cold and stern face much softened.
The soldiers were fully assembled, each carrying a month's worth of rations. Grain was scarce, just a small sack, but there was plenty of meat—lightweight, air-dried by the prairie climate, easy to carry in bulk.
Now, the soldiers were filled with hope for this war, no longer plagued by the anxiety and unease that haunted them before winter. Especially under the influence of the veterans, many of the new recruits were itching for battle.
"All troops, advance nonstop to the central stronghold. Kill every enemy you encounter!"
With a loud cry from Yuna Grant, she snapped her whip and her warhorse surged forward, the cavalry behind her following suit.
Three days later, a large number of soldiers still remained inside the stronghold. Many horses were overloaded, forcing soldiers to carry their own rations and supplies as they slowly began to move.
Bella Liang kept urging the soldiers to move quickly, her eyes anxiously scanning the west. The air felt restless—she knew the enemy would seize this opportunity. Even with a direct confrontation, the soldiers, worn down by a bitter winter, were exhausted. If battle broke out, the losses would be devastating.
Just three days ago, the weather had begun to warm. The first to advance were the soldiers still in decent shape, tasked with attacking Zou City—they had already set out ahead of the others.
The remaining horses and large numbers of infantry could only march south on foot, a journey of at least seven days. Many soldiers had suffered too long from hunger and cold; their bodies were in poor condition. Only the warmer southern lands offered any hope for rest and recovery—by autumn, they could fight again.
At that moment, Lydia Lien rode over, leading nearly five thousand cavalry. Their mission was to hold off the enemy's main force and buy time for the soldiers' retreat.
"This is just like last year's battle at the central pass, isn't it?"
Lydia Lien joked, but Bella Liang frowned and sighed helplessly. The heavens hadn't favored them; fate had turned away. Over five thousand soldiers had died over the winter—some from illness, some from the cold. Bella glanced at the deep trench outside the stronghold, where corpses still floated silently in the icy water, her heart heavy with grief.
"Looks like we won't be able to move everyone out today."
Bella Liang surveyed the situation and spoke, "There are still a lot of supplies inside the stronghold. We'll need horses to haul them out."
"Send out more cavalry, so the soldiers can leave faster."
Lydia Lien stared silently toward the west.
"Pass the order: have the soldiers head straight into the central woods."
"What do you mean by that?"
Lydia Lien gave Bella Liang a cold look, then ordered the remaining cavalry and some soldiers to gather on the west side of the stronghold.
"The forest should be warmer than the plains. The enemy surely started moving before we did—it's been three days already. Where do you think they are now?"
Bella Liang's face suddenly turned fearful. He looked west and his eyes widened in alarm.
"Everyone, prepare for battle."
"Disaster always strikes when you least expect it, huh."
There were still over a hundred thousand people inside the stronghold, but in the distance, countless black dots appeared—at least several tens of thousands. Though far away, if they charged, the soldiers still cleaning up around the stronghold would be in grave danger.
Bella Liang immediately grabbed her spear. Lydia Lien had already led the cavalry to charge. The only option now was to use the cavalry to buy time, letting the soldiers inside the stronghold arm themselves and throw up makeshift defenses. Much of the trench had been filled in, and empty spots were covered with planks. The stronghold had no real defenses left.
They drew closer. Bella Liang saw the vanguard: nine long banners—crimson, pink, black, blue, purple, white, orange, gold, and red—leading the way.
This cavalry force was no joke. Lydia Lien's expression grew grim as she suddenly wheeled her horse around.
"Run. Head for the forest—run as far as you can."
Bella Liang stared at Lydia Lien in shock, eyes wide.
"What exactly are you trying to do?"
"Look for yourself. The enemy has at least thirty or forty thousand cavalry. And here? We have less than ten thousand soldiers, most of them reserves. Do you really think we stand a chance?"
"But..."
"If you want to go, go alone. This is a war with no certainty, no chance of victory."
"All troops, move toward the forested area."
Lydia Lien shouted again. The soldiers who were still preparing defenses sprang into action, dropping their supplies and running.
"We miscalculated this time."
Lydia Lien ground her teeth as she spoke, while Lien Huo beside her sighed helplessly.
"Sis, that's war. You can't anticipate every step. The forest is warmer than the plains—you only thought of that this morning, right? Let's run, sis."
Before him, a green-clad figure appeared. Yuna Grant showed no mercy to any enemy, even those who tried to surrender knew there was no way out.
Yuna Grant raised her spear. Instantly, the nine generals carrying banners split off, and the troops behind them divided into nine groups, charging the stronghold. They were getting closer—the enemy seemed to have lost their will to fight and began to flee.
Joseph Grant breathed a sigh of relief. The enemy was smart—they'd already moved their main force, leaving only reserves behind. He'd expected a difficult battle with such a large-scale mobilization. If the enemy had used the stronghold for cover and fought with cavalry and infantry, both sides would have suffered heavy casualties.
But now, the enemy had lost their chance to attack Grant City this year. The prairie cold was even harsher than Joseph Grant had imagined. On their way here, they found thousands of people hauling supplies—all frozen to death out on the plains.
"Lona Long, Sebastian Zhao, Terry Mao—pursuit is up to you."
Joseph Grant shouted. The three on the left led their cavalry around the stronghold, racing north at top speed.
The outcome of the first clash was already decided—no fierce resistance. Joseph Grant charged into the stronghold, his spear piercing an enemy who was raising a bow. All around, the enemy cried and fled in terror.
Before him, a green-clad figure appeared. Yuna Grant showed no mercy to any enemy, even those who tried to surrender knew there was no way out.
"What are you doing?"
Some new recruits stopped, stunned as the veterans slaughtered kneeling, begging enemies—no pity, no hesitation. It was a massacre, relentless and one-sided. Even those who tried to flee were trampled and killed beneath the iron hooves of the cavalry.
A wave of madness swept across the battlefield. Soon, even the new recruits joined the bloodshed, their eyes vacant and lifeless, moving like puppets—mindlessly, mechanically, killing on command. The order to kill every enemy was carried out with chilling obedience.
"No, Commander Liang—you can't go back."
Bella Liang gripped her spear so tightly it groaned in her hands. She stared at the carnage behind her—hell unleashed on earth.
"What are they, really? Can you even call them human anymore?"
Bella Liang roared in fury as her soldiers fell one after another, while the defenseless reserves were slaughtered by the enemy.
A chorus of horse screams rang out. Bella Liang raised her spear and charged, with generals and cavalry following close behind.
"That idiot actually lost his head at a time like this, turning back!"
Lydia Lien suddenly halted, wheeled her horse, and led her cavalry back into the fray.
Bella Liang's mind went blank, her blood boiling—she couldn't take it anymore. Seeing the enemy's atrocities up close, her rage exploded.
With a loud crack, Bella Liang roared and swung her spear, felling two enemy pursuers from their horses.
"Caught a big fish—die here!"
With a clang, Bella Liang's spear was suddenly knocked aside by a muscular young man's own spear. Their eyes met—Bella Liang snapped back to her senses. The young man before her was like a fearsome beast, his gaze fixed on her, radiating intimidation.