The sun's dim yellow light gradually faded, and darkness was about to engulf the land.
Shadows moved across the plain as both sides silently sent out people to clear the battlefield, making preparations for tomorrow's war.
There was no talk of victory or defeat, no jubilant cheers. This was the largest direct clash between the two armies since the war began. In just one morning, nearly a hundred thousand lay dead on this plain, and the casualties would only rise with tomorrow's sunrise.
Many soldiers who had dreamed of glory in battle were now fully awakened to reality. On the slopes, along the roads, and atop the hills, they gathered in small groups around campfires, barely speaking. As the last ray of sunlight vanished, the entire force was swallowed by silence.
Today's fighting was over, yet the hellish memories of the battlefield were etched deep into their minds. A frontal assault meant death; retreat offered no escape.
Faced with the reality of war, eyes once filled with hope now dimmed. This was a stark contrast to the earlier surprise attacks.
James Grant gazed at the shell-shocked generals and gave a bitter smile. The reinforcements from Jiang Territory were still advancing slowly, likely just reaching the border. They would not arrive anytime soon.
No matter the tactics, in a direct clash, only the stronger side prevails. Inside the hastily built shelter, only Yuna Ji at the top, eyes half-closed and leaning against a wooden post, showed no trace of bitterness. Instead, a faint smile played at her lips.
James Grant felt desolate inside as he stared blankly at Yuna Ji. He couldn't explain it, but he always sensed a bottomless sadness in her. On the battlefield, it was as if he heard cries—Yuna Ji's cries—but no one else seemed to notice. Only when he saved her did he truly hear the anguish from deep within her heart.
Suddenly, James Grant stood up and looked at Joseph Qiao, who was frowning over the map, still pondering a solution. How could he avoid sacrificing the last of their troops tomorrow? Yet, no matter what Joseph Qiao thought, casualties were inevitable. If their frontline strength was lacking, the enemy would quickly overwhelm them. At that point, even a counterattack would be impossible—the only retreat left was Grant City, and once they returned, only destruction awaited them.
At that moment, everyone turned their eyes to Yuna Ji. She moved, stepping lightly outside, as if they were all waiting for her answer—hoping she would say something that could lead them to victory. Even if it was a lie, many eyes shone with desperate hope.
Suddenly, loud laughter erupted. James Grant threw his head back and laughed, drawing angry glares from several Grant Domain generals.
"What are you laughing at? What's so funny?"
Yuna Ji gave James Grant a cold look and walked out of the shelter.
"I'm going to rest."
She left behind only these words and departed, leaving the room heavy with tension.
"So that's your hope?"
James Grant spoke angrily, and immediately the generals in the room turned to him. Some of his own officers had died in today's battle, and his heart was tormented.
All through the afternoon, James Grant learned about Yuna Ji's actions from Joseph Qiao. After losing the Central Pass and having the main force wiped out, when all seemed lost, Yuna Ji stepped forward and led the Grant Domain's soldiers to several stunning victories.
"What do you mean by that, General James Grant?"
A general slammed the table and stood up.
"Believe in her, and we will win. All we need to do is follow her orders, and victory is assured—even if the enemy has several times our strength, even if they are far stronger, it doesn't matter, because we have our leader, Yuna Ji! We can entrust everything to her. Just follow orders and we'll win, right, everyone? Is that really true? Is it?"
In an instant, James Grant roared at the end, eyes wide as he glared at everyone in the room.
"Open your eyes and look closely. See her for who she really is!"
James Grant practically roared, pointing around the room at everyone.
In that moment, Joseph Qiao seemed to understand what James Grant was trying to tell them. He stared at James Grant in shock—he had only arrived last night, but now he saw the real issue.
"She's just a sixteen-year-old girl—a girl who stood up to give you hope and courage so you wouldn't be wiped out in a matter of days. And you? Not one of you even wants to respond to her? Aren't you ashamed? Doesn't it hurt? Placing all your hope on someone else... Ha, what a joke."
No one refuted James Grant's words. All the generals in the room hung their heads in silence, their faces tense.
Both Joseph Qiao and James Grant had heard the details of today's rear battle from Mason Mao. The troops were scattered and disorganized. After Yuna Ji and her group charged forward, the soldiers and generals seemed to lose their souls, unable to remain calm in such a battlefield, relying only on the survival instinct Yuna Ji had mentioned the night before.
Everyone was thinking that if they killed just one more enemy, they might survive—almost as if they were possessed.
Without a word, James Grant stepped out of the shelter, followed quickly by the generals of Jiang Territory.
At this moment, James Grant finally understood why he had never seen fear on the faces of Grant Domain's soldiers and generals, nor did they seem to know what fear was. From the moment he arrived last night and until the battle began this morning, he saw only confidence, as if victory was already assured.
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Just leave it to the leader, Yuna Ji—entrust everything to her, and we will win.
James Grant looked up, clenching his fists in agony. He started running, and as he neared Yuna Ji's quarters, he smelled herbs. Without thinking, he pulled back the linen curtain, intending to leave, but froze. Yuna Ji was lying on the bed, completely uncovered. Her shoulders and arms were covered in bruises, and her back was lined with dense wounds—there was hardly any unscarred flesh left.
After tending to Yuna Ji's wounds, Lona Long glanced at James Grant before leaving. As she passed him, she whispered a soft thank you in his ear.
James Grant nodded and walked in. Yuna Ji was covered with an animal pelt, eyes closed, still gritting her teeth. He realized she had barely spoken all day, enduring the pain in silence, yet walked out of the shelter with composure.
James Grant sat heavily at the edge of Yuna Ji's bed.
"How long are you going to keep pretending to be strong, leader of Grant Domain?"
His tone was teasing, but his eyes were serious.
Yuna Ji let out a chuckle. She turned on her side, propping her head up with her left hand, and gave James Grant a cold, mocking smile.
"And you? What are you here for?"
Suddenly, James Grant stood up and looked out at the sky beyond the shelter.
"Tomorrow, I'll lead the vanguard and attack with the soldiers. You should rest well—you can barely stand, can't you?"
"Can I entrust it to you?"
James Grant smiled and nodded.
"I'm a man, and you're a woman. Don't try to take everything on yourself. Those slender shoulders of yours—they're not meant to bear the whole weight of the Grant Domain."
Yuna Ji burst out laughing.
"So, will you help me?"
With a thud, James Grant slapped his chest.
"A woman should stand behind a man, and a man should stand in front of a woman, no matter the storm."
Returning to the shelter, James Grant felt much better. He walked in with a smile. The generals of Grant Domain looked more lively now, eating heartily.
"Someone, bring it in!"
Joseph Qiao shouted, and soon, soldiers carried in two wooden barrels.
"Don't any of you drink? Grant Domain is so well-stocked with food."
A fragrant aroma filled the air. Instantly, some generals recognized that the barrels James Grant had brought contained wine. Someone explained that making wine required too much grain, so King Ji strictly forbade wasting food on brewing.
Some tribes still secretly make a little, but wine is an extravagant luxury.
Soon, the room was filled with the scent of wine. The generals laughed and cried with joy, as if years of pent-up emotion had finally burst forth.
Joseph Qiao stared at the map, his head spinning but feeling good. He'd never tasted wine before, only heard about its magical power to ease worries. Now, after trying it, he laughed happily, as if all his troubles had vanished like smoke.
In the darkness, Lydia Lien stood atop a mountain ridge, gazing westward. Night had fallen, and some soldiers, ordered to advance quickly, pressed on by torchlight.
"Didn't I tell you already? Stop acting recklessly, Henry Lien."
In the wind, Lydia Lien let down her hair, long strands fluttering. Under the moonlight, crystal droplets fell from the sky—her tears. Her face was awash with sorrow.