As the walls of Shi Bei rose in the distance, Nian Zu mopped the sweat from his brow and stirred with the eager impatience of a man one-fifth his age.

Though many of his soldiers had visions of taking the city within a single day, he knew such an outcome was more than unlikely considering the Enemy was not known to retreat or surrender so easily. Even if they did, such a victory would come at a great cost to the Imperial Army, but he still enjoyed the mental exercise that came from parsing through such a possibility regardless, like working on a puzzle that was supposed to be unsolvable and trying to come up with a working solution. It wasn’t just for personal enjoyment however, as this served as much needed practice for the campaign ahead. For the first time in decades, he was out of his element, thrust into an unfamiliar role which filled him with a heady sense of thrill and trepidation. Throughout his long and lengthy career as an Officer of the Northern Imperial Army, Nian Zu never once led or took part in an offensive operation against a foe, whether it be Defiled, rebel, or otherwise. He’d never even personally led a bandit or beast hunt, as he understandably avoided taking part in such excursions early on in his career, because doing so would have been akin to handing his enemies a knife with which to kill him.

That being said, defending against overwhelming numbers was his forte, the means through which he made his name, and now the roles were reversed while the disparity in numbers remained more or less the same. This was a fresh challenge to take on which brought with it a rush of excitement alongside the unfamiliar fear of failure, and Nian Zu savoured it as best he could, for this was a rare treat for a man his age. Shi Bei would be his inaugural offensive campaign, and at a hundred and one years of age, he was not so keen to add a black mark to his otherwise unblemished record of achievements.

Slow and steady, that was the backbone of the plan, but he needed more than the broad strokes if he wanted this to succeed. The details fell into place even as he rode ever closer to his destination, scanning the surroundings with the naked eye and Scrying both to get a good read on the terrain. It would be mid-afternoon by the time the army arrived at the staging grounds he’d picked out, a wide, ridged dune facing the northern walls which sat more or less level with the City itself. Even though there was an elevated plateau to the east which would give him the high ground and force the Enemy to march uphill to assault them, staging his army there would be a mistake. There were too many smaller dunes surrounding that position, affording the Enemy ample cover on the approach and limiting his crossbows’ fields of fire, while positioning his army along the western or southern walls would leave his flanks too open to reinforcing Defiled. Yes, now that he’d seen the lay of the land with his own eyes and reaffirmed what the scouts had relayed to him, he was convinced he’d made the right decision and could confidently deploy his troops in the formation laid out by Imperial Military Advisor, Liu Xuande.

To call the man a genius was selling his talents short, for the Imperial Scion had an affinity with massed warfare that not even the greatest Generals of this time could match. While his martial skills were lacking, not even Shuai Jiao dared protest when the Legate bestowed this newly conceived rank upon Liu Xuande and placed him so high in the chain of command, for there was no denying his talents. His treatise somewhat arrogantly titled ‘The Art of War’ was an eye-opening experience which Nian Zu made mandatory for all his Officers to read, for the Military Advisor had taken the complex intricacies of massed warfare and condensed it all into thirteen easily digestible chapters. Weapons, strategies, formations, and disciplinary efforts, The Art of War covered it all in simple and succinct details that any commander could easily put to good use, and Nian Zu was no exception. Gone were the days when the army marched ahead of the supplies, for though it slowed the army down as a whole, it was better to proceed at the speed of their slowest unit than to waste time and manpower backtracking to defend their beleaguered supply lines. As The Art of War pointed out, hungry soldiers would not fight, meaning an army without provisions was already lost, so what point was there in having them arrive at the battlegrounds early without their supplies already in hand?

Then there was the matter of different priorities, for in the past, Generals of great fame and renown all placed heavy emphasis on an army’s strength, speed, and coordination, but in Military Advisor Liu’s eyes, the most important factors of all were information and timing. With enough information and proper preparation, victory was all but inevitable, but revealing one’s hand too early or too late could render all that effort wasted as the Enemy pivoted to take a different approach. The influence of information and timing didn’t end in the preparatory stages either, because the right information in the midst of battle could allow a competent Commander to better tip the scales of balance in his favour. It could be something as simple as reinforcing or withdrawing from an area about to be overrun or guiding a unit around the enemy flanks to strike at a soft and vulnerable target, or complex as Hongji’s multifaceted defence of the Central Citadel wherein he coordinated the movements of his guerrilla units to strike where the enemy was weak and retreat from where they were strong. Simple enough to understand, but not so easy to pull off, as any experienced Commander could tell you, yet Liu Xuande managed to somehow boil down the concept into a handful of clear and concise points.

Move like the wind, as fast as circumstances would allow and without strict adherence to direction. This meant to make haste without rushing, and to avoid fixating on a single route for the sake of the route itself. There was no need to fear deviating from one’s planned path so long as there was good reason for it, or put another way, an able commander was one who knew how to adapt to changing conditions.

Consolidate your soldiers like trees in the forest. Moving in neat and orderly ranks might look nice, but was hardly always practical in the field, but that didn’t mean you should simply allow your soldiers to march as they pleased. On the field of battle, overeager soldiers advancing ahead of everyone else were even worse than cowardly troops lagging behind, because brave soldiers were a precious resource to be guarded and developed. Thus, the comparison to a forest, for while natural forests did not grow in neat rows, they still retained the quality of density and compactness, so soldiers should learn from this as well. Neat was nice, but compact better, for a united body of soldiers would arrive on the battlefield together.

On the offence, strike like fire, fierce and unchecked. Half-measures secured half a victory, which was also half a defeat, so when the right opportunity presented itself, a commander should hold nothing back. Hammering a gap in the enemy lines only translated into an advantage once those lines were overrun, so better to commit too many forces to ensure a favourable outcome rather than to risk your flanking force getting bogged down in a long battle of attrition as combatants from both sides flocked to reinforce their position.

On the defence, remain immovable as a mountain. This pertained not simply to holding a defensive position, but also warned against transitioning too quickly from defence to offence, for many a battle had been won or lost by luring soldiers away from their allies and defensible positions without the proper support. Though an opportunity for bloodshed could be lost, it was more important to preserve the overall integrity of an army’s battle lines than to pursue minor gains with unacceptable risks.

Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, denying as much information to your foes as possible, and when you move, do so with the speed of lightning. Again, it seemed obvious when reading it, but upon reflection, Nian Zu realized just how often he neglected to do just this. Take for example the battle in which he revealed Baatar’s prowess for all the Northern Wall to see, and more importantly, showed off his new protege to DuYi. It felt like a lifetime ago when they met on the Wall so DuYi could warn him about the Enemy’s ability to communicate over long distances, but rather than immerse himself in memories of the man he loved, Nian Zu picked apart all the errors in his battle plan that day. Seeing the Enemy massed before their gates, he’d ordered Baatar out on an offensive cavalry push, one meant to sweep aside the chaff to give the soldiers on the wall a moment to breathe and redress their ranks. While the move ultimately proved to be a rousing success, looking back on it with fresh eyes filled him with dread and disbelief, for there were so many things that could have gone wrong. Before ordering the charge, he’d committed his cavalry to lining up at the gates, with no infantry to support them whatsoever. Mostly to keep the area clear and unobstructed, but any fool with eyes and the ability to Scry would have seen the offensive charge coming well in advance, which the Enemy did. Were it not for Baatar’s phenomenal coordination and ability to direct his Warriors to target the Enemy during transition, the entire cavalry force might well have been lost, trapped by the Enemy’s maneuvers and worn down through attrition. Granted, Nian Zu had known of Baatar’s skills going in and foresaw everything playing out exactly as it had, but he could have massively reduced the risk involved by simply rallying his cavalry a little further back from the gates before sallying forth. By arranging them to appear like a rapid reinforcement unit moving into a better position to react, he would have obfuscated his true intent and denied the Enemy commander the chance to prepare his strategy to deal with Baatar’s all too obvious counter-attack.

So simple and succinct, yet full of much needed wisdom and insight, The Art of War was an invaluable resource for commanders the Empire over, and Nian Zu was eager to put his newfangled knowledge to good use, the first of which was to never move faster than circumstances allowed. After thirty days sitting idle in Meng Sha and seven days of marching through dust and sweat to reach Shi Bei, Nian Zu’s soldiers were ready and raring to draw first blood with the Enemy forces, but he kept them on a tight rein and did not let them march any faster than half-pace. Though the Imperial Army was technically on the offensive, everyone would all do well to remember that they were still grossly outnumbered. As he drew closer to his destination, Nian Zu spotted the Enemy defenders lining the walls of Shi Bei, and they made for a formidable force indeed.

Most prominent of all were the dark-armoured forms of the so-called Chosen, the disciplined Defiled elites standing stock still upon the battlements. No doubt they were suffering from the desert heat even this late in the year, yet not a single one shifted or fidgeted for as long as Nian Zu watched. This was more than mere discipline, but inhuman focus as they conserved their energy for the battle to come. It was still jarring to see so much restraint from an established foe notorious for their lack of self-control, but he knew it could only partially be attributed to training and indoctrination, as he’d seen the Chosen break ranks in battle before. No, the reason for their strict discipline now was primarily due to the presence of the misshapen forms scattered throughout their ranks, the armoured Half-Demons who served as commanders and punitive officers both. According to the intelligence gathered by spies and scouts alike, most of these forsaken conglomerations of man and Demon hailed from the Mataram Clan itself, the end result of seemingly hundreds, if not thousands of years of clandestine research and experimentation. In the wake of the Mataram Clan’s betrayal, Imperial Scholars uncovered a possible link between the progenitor of the current Mataram Royal line and Zhen Shi himself, meaning these traitors had hidden their dark intents in plain sight and no one ever thought to look all that closely.

Small wonder the West fell so quickly, and Nian Zu shuddered at the thought of how close the North came to suffering a similar fate. If the Enemy had succeeded in seizing control of Sanshu and silencing all witnesses to the act, then they could have gone ahead with their plan to have Yo Ling feign death and defeat at the hands of the Golden Highlands Coalition, leaving Nian Zu and the rest of the province none the wiser to the fact that they had an entire city of wolves lurking in their midst.

Thankfully, the Chosen in Shi Bei were limited to a hundred and fifty thousand strong, while there were less than two-hundred Half-Demon abominations in total. Unfortunately, the defending Defiled forces still numbered in the millions, the majority of which were deranged Defiled. Untrained and undisciplined Defiled who waved their weapons and shouted up a storm long before the Imperials could even hope to hear them. While Imperial doctrine favoured quality over quantity, in enough numbers, quantity had a quality all of its own. Most of the Defiled were clad in the local style of head wraps, veils, and long, loose garments that covered them from head to toe to protect them from the blowing sand and sweltering heat of the Western days, while also offering adequate protection against the near freezing nights. After almost two years of fighting, it was difficult to tell if these Defiled were tribal invaders or maddened locals who lost sight of the Mother’s light, and though Nian Zu prayed it was the former, in his heart, he knew many of the Defiled he saw today were once his comrades and countrymen.

Difficult to fault them for their lack of faith and hope, because enduring two years under Enemy rule was no easy matter, but with the Legate’s current indisposition, all Nian Zu could do now was free these poor souls from the mortal coil and beseech the Mother Above to have mercy on their souls. Though the Legate still clung to lofty ideals and believed most of these apostates could be brought back into the light, Nian Zu had his reservations regarding the boy’s idealistic dreams and feared Rain was in for a rude awakening indeed. Even if his secretive ability to Cleanse was widely accepted without doubt, any and all Western survivors would still suffer from the stigma of having possibly been tainted for years, if not decades to come. Prejudice and discrimination would be the least of their worries, for even though the Bloody Confessor was dead and Demonized, there would always be others willing to take up his divisive cause for more reasons than faith. Say what you will about Goujian’s abhorrent ideals and lacking conviction, but he never abused his power for personal gain. The same could not be said for the dozen or so opportunists seeking to fill the void he’d left behind, all of whom were vying to stand out from the rest while simultaneously benefit themselves in the process.

Yuzhen and the other Marshals were already hard at work stomping out these aspiring demagogues at the Legate’s instruction, with clandestine help from spymaster MuYang and his fanatic associates, but like cockroaches, there were always more rabble-rousers hiding in the shadows nearby. Traditionally, the Disciplinary Corps was responsible for these sorts of affairs, but their efforts had fallen off of late, ostensibly because their workload had increased under ‘the new Legate’s rule’, but most likely because they wanted little Rain to look bad. Regardless of the reason, this was a matter more for the Magistrates of the Empire, as the Imperial Army was not in the habit of enforcing the law. That might change soon enough if the Legate were to move forward with his vision of liberating the West, so Nian Zu had been paying special attention to these affairs over the last few months.

This was the sort of issue that could wait until after Shi Bei was retaken however, so Nian Zu turned his mind back to the task at hand. Slowly but surely, his army marched ever forwards until they arrived at the staging grounds he’d picked out in advance, at which point he left Military Advisor Liu to oversee the camp formation with help from the Junior Officers while he called a meeting with his highest echelons of command. The Three Hunting Strategies said that in order to defeat the Enemy, one must know the Enemy, but the Art of War emphasized that one must also know thyself, meaning one must understand one’s own limits as well as the limits of those serving under them in order to achieve victory over the Enemy. In this facet, Nian Zu fell woefully short, for rather than the Northern Warriors he’d trained and served beside throughout his long and lengthy career, the bulk of his army hailed from Central instead. Better if it were Shuai Jiao or even fast rising Chen Hongji commanding the forces here, but given the circumstances, Akanai’s division of manpower was almost perfect save for one minor detail. Were he himself in charge, Nian Zu would have given Akanai command of Central’s soldiers while he took command of the Southern forces himself. While his skills were more suited to the siege here in Shi Bei and the Southern Warriors of more use intercepting the reinforcing Defiled forces in the field, he could not help but feel like Akanai was doing herself a disservice by taking command of the patriarchal minded men of the South, which was putting it nicely.

Then again, for all he knew, that was exactly the reason why Akanai took command of the Southern forces herself, to show them how far a woman could go if given command of an army, but somehow, Nian Zu didn’t think she would change many Southern mindsets, if any at all.

Regardless of his thoughts on the matter, it was far too late to change things now. Greeting his Officers as they filtered into the tent, he inwardly railed against Central’s strict adherence to protocol even here out in the field, with Officers entering one by one in order of lowest to highest rank. First sorted by official rank of course, followed by social if necessary, and over the past month and a bit, more than one argument had broken out regarding the perceived pecking order among them. On several occasions, Nian Zu had noticed his Officers entering in a new order, yet none could deny that his second most prominent Major was none other than the Sanguine Whirlwind Du Min Yan, whose battlefield contributions and marriage to the Legate was superseded only by the outstanding talents of the Painted Dancer, Ishin Ken-Shibu. Nian Zu had no complaints regarding the young man’s competence, both in tactical command and prowess on the battlefield, having already earmarked the young family patriarch for great things ahead.

That being said, talented as Ken-Shibu might be, there was no doubt in Nian Zu’s mind that the young man would not have been the last Major to enter if Ryo Da’in still held the same rank. Were it up to him, he’d place the eldest Ryo Scion at the top of his Lieutenant Colonels as well, for thus far, she demonstrated an exceptional ability to parse his orders and knew exactly when to ask the right questions and when to still her tongue, a skill many of these Central Officers had yet to learn. Given another decade or two, Nian Zu was confident she would easily replicate her father’s meteoric rise to Colonel General, if not surpass it, yet for some reason, Da’in was not afforded the same respect as her male peers. It seemed Central shared at least some of the worst traits of Southern beliefs, in that women were inferior to their male counterparts due to physical differences alone, for despite her current achievements and future potential, she was among the first of his Lieutenant Colonels to enter the tent, outranking only those ‘lowly’ Officers without wealthy families or powerful factions to back them.

If only Central had more of those diamonds in the rough, but Nian Zu supposed finding one Chen Hongji in this generation was already more than enough. More to the point, having already proven herself to be something of a prideful firebrand, he was surprised to see young Da’in simply accept her low place in the pecking order without complaint, no doubt due to the political pressure her family faced in the wake of her father’s death. May he rest in the arms of the Mother Above, but it was not Nian Zu’s place to step in to assist the Ryo’s, especially after their baffling decision to throw their lot in with Shuai Jiao instead of working with the Legate to oppose the ambitious Commander General. All other factors aside, Nian Zu knew the quality of the Legate and Shuai Jiao both, and this alone was enough to fix him firmly to young Rain’s side if ever given the choice. Shuai Jiao was a snake and a hypocrite, a man who pretended to be different from the rest of Central’s nobles yet behaved in the exact same manner so long as he could get away with it, which somehow made him worse than the vermin who owned up to their behaviour.

What’s more, the Commander General had yet to provide the Ryo’s with any discernible benefit as far as anyone could see. Young Geom-Chi and Seoyoon were also serving under Nian Zu, but neither one warranted an invitation to this meeting as they were both still Senior Captains yet. Not a rank to sneer at for children their age, but the war and young Rain’s meteoric rise had radically skewed expectations to the point where he had to remind himself of that fact almost daily. Of course, it was possible the Ryo’s allied with Shuai Jiao not for mutual benefit but were pressured or even blackmailed into compliance, but that hardly seemed likely considering Jeong Hyo Lynn’s incredible skills. Nian Zu had only seen the Sword Saint draw her blades once, and only for a short while, but even that much was enough to convince him to never face her in single combat himself.

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No, if they should ever find themselves at odds, his only chance would be to strike her down from afar, preferably while she wasn’t looking. If they were to exchange blows in close combat, Nian Zu wagered he’d last all of ten moves before losing a limb, and maybe fifteen before she took his head, for he saw no way in which he could defend against her dizzying flurry of blows.

The rest of the pecking order came as no surprise, but Nian Zu was almost beside himself with impatience by the time Du Min Gyu settled in at his side while the Sword Saint made her way in last. Promoting the woman to Lieutenant General had been a grave mistake, for she was a duellist first and a mother second, with ‘Military Officer’ sitting somewhere close to the bottom of her admittedly remarkable skill-set. At least she knew not to reach beyond the bounds of her limited knowledge and left most of the military planning to others, but Nian Zu needed a little more support than her silence from his supposed second-in-command. Truth be told, even though he was also a Lieutenant General, Du Min Gyu was not much better when it came to matters of tactical command, but at least Nian Zu had the Imperial Military Advisor to make up for their failings. Another sign of Akanai’s nigh flawless distribution of manpower, though he would have liked to have Baatar, Chen Hongji, Han BoHai, or even Jia Yang here to help him. Hell, he’d even accept help from Rang Min at this point, because despite all his faults, no one could fault the former Situ Patriarch for lacking intelligence and foresight. In matters of tactics and schemes, Rang Min might well be second only to young Rain and the Military Advisor himself, as evidenced by the massive success he found under Yuzhen’s employ hunting down Enemy spies, smugglers, and assassins these past few months.

Too effective really, leading some to suspect Rang Min was playing both sides and hoping to come out on top, but Nian Zu knew better. Say what you will about the man, but Rang Min was no traitor to the Empire, for he loved both Clan and Society too much to ever even entertain the notion of defection.

With his Officers all gathered, Nian Zu could finally begin his meeting, during which he outlined his plan for the siege. “The Military Advisor has deployed our catapults here,” he began, gesturing at the map laid out before him and ignoring the frowns in response to his breach in protocol by jumping right to the point. As if he was going to waste precious seconds on social niceties here in this oppressive heat with so many people gathered in one place, and already he could feel himself growing faint. The area he indicated was a forward ridge, the peak of a sand dune that dropped off into a sheer, nigh-impassible cliff that overlooked Shi Bei to the west below. Anyone seeking to scale those cliffs and attack the catapults situated atop them would have to go out and around to reach their position, which was deep in the centre of Nian Zu’s forces and not so easily assaulted. At first glance, he could hardly believe anyone would build a city in such an indefensible location, but having spoken to Gao Changgong before setting forth from Meng Sha, Nian Zu learned that the cliff-face had not always been there. With constant winds eroding the dunes already in place, the Western Province’s landscape was forever in flux and there was little humans could do to stop it. According to local lore, the city was the very reason why the cliff formed where it did, for the city walls blocked all easterly winds and prevented them from smoothing out the peaks any lower than they already were. A boon for Nian Zu, as it meant his catapults were well-insulated from infantry and cavalry alike. Only Peak Experts, Demons, or Half-Demons could assault their position with ease, and they would do so unsupported by the chaff they so depended on, meaning the Enemy would pay a hefty price to do so.

That wasn’t to say that Imperial victory was a foregone conclusion, for the fighting would still be bitter and bloody indeed. Perhaps the Legate had other ideas regarding how this Western offensive would go, but even if they had an unlimited number of Runic Cannons and enough Peak Experts to fire them consistently without stopping, this crusade would be an undertaking of years to come, if not decades at the very least. This of course made Akanai’s clandestine plan to take out three valuable targets in quick succession all the more unfathomable, for there was no good reason to rush things so. Mao Jianghong here in Shi Bei, Mataram Patriarch YuGan in Tian Zangli, and of course Bai Qi in Pan Si Xing, all notorious Imperial traitors with pivotal roles in the Enemy’s cause, which made it all the more difficult to kill them. And yet, Akanai set out to do just that, in the opening moves of the offensive no less, a gambit akin to Hikaru Shindo’s combination finisher in his legendary chess match against the dominant grandmaster Zhou Weiqi, a series of desperate and seemingly illogical moves from an unknown challenger that eventually forced the grandmaster to sacrifice piece after piece until he had nothing left to defend his king.

That was Akanai’s goal here, to kill all three of the aforementioned Peak Experts in quick succession, with each army responsible for a single head each. To call her bold was not doing her justice, for if Nian Zu were in command, he would have instead focused more effort on taking Shi Bei to slowly solidify their foothold in the Western Province. Ostensibly, he was able to do just that here, but he’d been ordered to place more value on killing Mao Jianghong than taking the city intact, which was not something he entirely agreed with. Taking four harbours in a single night was a phenomenal start, but capturing Shi Bei would enable the Imperial Army to draw even more focus away from the Western Wall and bring the war back to the Western Province itself. Akanai had her reasons for giving these orders of course, and she’d shared them with Nian Zu, but while he wasn’t wholly convinced of the need to go to such extremes, he couldn’t deny the potential rewards to be reaped. This was a gamble of epic proportions, one weighted in their favour of course, but one with the fate of the Western offensive on the line, not to mention possibly even the fate of the outer provinces as well. A risky proposition to undertake, but Akanai had the vision and resolve to go through with it, which was exactly why young Rain placed her in charge.

A fact which Nian Zu was entirely grateful for, because there were Living Legends, and then there were Warriors like Akanai of the Bekhai who he now knew stood head and shoulders above them all.

Though irksome to be treated like a child by a woman who didn’t look a day over thirty, Nian Zu could not argue that it was nice knowing there were taller shoulders standing ready to hold the Heavens up for him. For too long, he’d stood at the peak of humanity and bore the burden of service for those beneath him, so it was something of a relief to know that the fate of countless citizens of the Empire no longer rested solely on his actions and decisions alone. There were others like Akanai, Liu Xuande, Baatar, and yes, even young Falling Rain that Nian Zu could count on, so he focused on completing the task he’d been assigned and trusted his allies to do the same.

A good thing too, for Military Advisor Liu was a farsighted man who made ample preparations to make up for his shortcomings, having long since devised the tactics he set out to use today. Thanks to their newly mastered ability to speak and Send at the same time, Nian Zu outlined Military Advisor Liu’s plans in real time to his officers with a few helpful words from the Imperial Scion himself. Pre-constructed iron fences were strategically placed all about, simple obstacles consisting of a base and a long central rod affixed with spikes which projecting out at an upwards angle on one side and held up a canvas canopy on the other. Unsupported, even a single Defiled tribesman could easily move the spikes without aid, especially with soft sand underfoot, but the point of these fences was to provide Imperial soldiers a place to stand guard while still providing shelter from the sun and sandstorms. What’s more, with enough soldiers supporting the fence, even a full out cavalry charge would fail to move it, though Nian Zu was not all too sure if the spikes would prove the deterrent the Military Advisor believed it would be.

More impressive were the deadfall traps set up all around the base of the camp, simply contraptions of leather and iron that could be triggered by hand or tripwire to send an avalanche of heavy objects raining down on the Enemy below. While stone and water were scarce here in the west, young Rain had long ago pointed out that empty storage containers packed with sand would prove almost as effective, especially if they put in the extra effort and ‘irrigated’ the sand in the latrines first. Hardly the most glamorous of jobs, filling boxes and barrels with sand soaked in piss and shit, but there were always soldiers in need of discipline and this task would prove most effective.

While all this hubbub was going about, the Military Advisor also put his teachings regarding darkness and obfuscation to good use. The sandy, uneven terrain made it difficult to dig in and fortify their position, but it also made it impossible for the Enemy to keep track of all their comings and goings, especially with the near constant clouds of sand thrown up by periodic gusts of winds. Using this to his full advantage, the Military Advisor positioned soldiers all about the dunes to weave a tight-knit web of sentries and noise traps from which no one could navigate without being seen or detected. While Concealment and Sound Barriers could be employed to render a Wraith nigh undetectable, neither skill would do them any good if they should step on a trip wire which triggered a bell situated fifty or a hundred metres away.

Impressive as all this was, these traps and tricks were not what made the Military Advisor so formidable, but merely the garnish on the dish like the fake roses made from carved radishes so many restaurants liked to include. Pretty to look at and nice to have, but a meal they were not. Instead, the rice and meat of the Military Advisor’s skills came from the way he laid out troop formations, eschewing the neat and orderly squares of classic military doctrine for all manner of seemingly nonsensical yet highly efficient arrangements, such as the Tortoiseshell formation he employed here in Shi Bei. The units situated on the outermost layer of camp were arranged in an irregular octagon, with a battle-ready force waiting on standby at all eight cardinal directions. In the second layer of camp, the troops were arranged in a hexagon instead, with six more units on standby and ready to support the outermost layer at the drop of a hat, while also positioned so that even if the Enemy broke through in two cardinal directions, the second line of defences could easily hold long enough for additional reinforcements to form up and collapse on the assailants from all sides. Then, at the core of the camp was the command centre and the catapults themselves, which would have a clear line of sight to fire at or over the walls of Shi Bei below and wreak havoc on the Enemy defenders, with the double benefit of allowing Nian Zu and his Famed Fifty to guard the valuable weapons of war as well.

And to top it all off? The Military Advisor even managed to position the Irregulars and gave them specific lanes of fire in order to minimize the chances of an errant bolt getting caught in the wind and hitting a friendly target instead. The end result was a multi-layered and multi-faceted deployment plan that covered all angles defensively while relying solely on their war machines to mount an effective assault. Hardly sporting to sit outside the walls and lob stone after stone at the inhabitants within, but even if Nian Zu were to link up with Akanai and Baatar’s forces both, they would still lack the numbers to take Shi Bei in a direct assault. Thus, it made sense to use the natural terrain to force the Enemy to come to them, where they would have no choice but to march uphill under a hail of bolts and stones before coming blade to blade with some of the finest Warriors Central had to offer.

Or at least he hoped they were among the finest, but having only taken the measure of their commanding Officers, Nian Zu was not entirely confident this was true.

The meeting did not take too long, as Nian Zu only needed to ensure that his Officers understood their responsibilities and how to react when holding one of the fourteen critical points of the formation. Were it not for that, Nian Zu might not even have needed to call this meeting, but it was always good to test the mettle of the Officers under his command. Ishin Ken-Shibu grasped the key points the quickest, and while young Da’in asked many questions, the way she phrased them showed that she understood the concept well enough, but was only asking to be sure. Competent, yet lacking in confidence, a flaw Nian Zu never would have expected in the domineering Sword Princess Ryo Da’in. Several other Officers made inquiries designed to either curry favour, make themselves seem important, or bring up unrelated issues they believed needed to be rectified, such as lacklustre neighbours or an ‘untenable’ camping grounds, but Nian Zu responded with the same lack of tolerance each and every time. This sort of back and forth was expected from a Central Commander, but Nian Zu was of stubborn Northern stock through and through, so he refused to engage in their political squabbles.

As he neared the end of his patience, the Sword Saint spoke publicly for the first time in days. “When do you expect the offensive to begin?”

A question which gave away just how inept she truly was, for no commander would pick a set time for an assault. While he could have given her a general time frame, he felt it better to educate her instead, though to do so without sounding condescending or patronizing would be a tall task indeed. “When the time is right,” he replied, nodding with pursed lips as if he too was troubled by the issue. “I see two complications before us. The Art of War tells us that ‘the quality of decision is like the well-timed swoop of a falcon which enables it to strike and destroy its victim’, but the right time has yet to arrive. Our troops are eager and their courage indefatigable, but even the greatest Warriors among us need time to rest after seven days of hard marching through inhospitable terrain.” Resting both fists against the table, Nian Zu glanced about the room and met the eyes of as many Officers as he could to gauge the measure of their courage. Though more than one seemed nervous about the prospect of battle and relieved that they would have time to rest, their anxiety was tempered with eager desire to cross blades with the Enemy below. “To this end, ensure your soldiers do just that, with special attention paid to the measures outlined beforehand. Water is to be conserved, but not by the soldiers themselves, who must finish every drop of water given to them at the proper intervals. Avoid staying out in the sun for too long, for even Martial Warriors are not immune to heat-stroke or sun-blindness, and above all else, remain vigilant and on guard against Wraith attacks so that we will be ready to seize the opportunity when the timing presents itself.”

Pausing to let his words sink in, Nian Zu rifled through his papers and pulled out a sheet bearing the likeness of a man, one he’d studied far too often of late. A handsome fellow with a strong jaw, sculpted nose, and noble bearing, the lines around his eyes spoke of wisdom beyond his thirty odd years of age. Everyone present had seen the drawing at least once before, but Nian Zu showed it to them once again to engrave the likeness in their minds. “The second dilemma we face is one presented by the Three Hunting Strategies, namely ‘know the enemy’, yet we know little of the Enemy commander. Mao Jianghong, former Guard Captain of Sanshu turned traitor to the Empire. As a young man, he lost his family to a bandit attack, one which he later discovered had been ordered by the Merchant Council of Sanshu to safeguard their financial interests, interests the Mao family threatened to ruin with their refusal to join the Council. Rather than immediately act on this information, Jianghong bided his time and dedicated years of his life to rising through the ranks to become Guard Captain instead. This tells us our foe has patience, intelligence, and talent aplenty, yet his actions since defecting from the Empire have shown him to be a threat comparable to Bai Qi himself.”

A few scoffs of derision and disbelief followed Nian Zu’s bold statement, but he was gratified to see Jeong Hyo Lynn nod in agreement. They knew full well the power a Marshal could wield given enough wealth and connections, and Mao Jianghong had served in this same capacity for the entirety of the Enemy forces, which marked him as a man comparable to Rang Min himself. The lessons learned in trade and diplomacy could easily be translated over to the battlefield and vice versa as well, but most importantly of all, Nian Zu could not gauge the skills of a man he’d never seen in combat, especially when all his information was two years out of date.

Though others might think he’d drawn the easiest foe of the lot, Nian Zu believed that killing Mao Jianghong would prove no less of a challenge than taking Bai Qi’s head, for though the latter was a fearsome foe with polearm in hand, Mao Jianghong was unlikely to accept a duel from Nian Zu or the Sword Saint, or even emerge to fight in battle himself, meaning that if they wanted to claim his head, they would have to wade through a sea of Defiled corpses to take it.

And so, Nian Zu dismissed his Officers and settled in to find the right timing for his first attack, one that did not arrive on that first day. Night fell and morning found him looking out over the walls again, scanning the Enemy deployment for signs of change and weaknesses to exploit, but alas, there was no bounty to be had. As he said to his Officers, the right time had yet to arrive, and he knew this in a way he could not entirely explain. In fact, before reading The Art of War, he never conscientiously understood the value of proper timing, so he only recently discovered how vital it’d been in his rise to glory. As a young man, he found fame thanks to his Shooting Star, a simplistic ability in which he threw his mace at his opponents and killed them before they could close the gap. This skill saw him through many a duel, and for a time, his detractors had laughed at him and claimed that he would soon meet his end, for his foes only needed to block, dodge, or parry his Shooting Star in order to claim Nian Zu’s head.

And yet his head remained firmly attached for months, then years before his opponents switched to less direct tactics, but he never stopped to wonder why. What his critics claimed was entirely true, yet no one who stood out to challenge him was able to stop his Shooting Star, and now, decades later, Nian Zu finally understood why. It wasn’t because he threw his mace too quickly for his foes to react, or that the strength behind the blow was too powerful for anyone to block, but rather Nian Zu’s innate sense of impeccable timing. He knew exactly where and when to throw his mace to ensure his opponent could not block or avoid it, but he could not explain exactly how he knew this in words. It was an ineffable sense of movement and reaction that somehow enabled him to easily discern the best time to act, like when his opponent was retreating and unable to counter or over-extended and incapable of blocking. It could happen in the opening seconds of a duel, after a cautious testing of his opponents skills, or as a last resort after a frantic back and forth exchange, but the timing always revealed itself without fail, even when his opponent was a powerful Divinity like Zhu Chanzui. He just knew when to throw his mace so that his attack would land true, an intuitive premonition of knowing yet not knowing he could not teach or even describe.

Unlike young Rain however, Nian Zu was not one to let his lack of understanding stand in the way of using this skill to his advantage. The timing would arrive soon enough, but he knew that this battle was not the only factor to keep in mind. There was also Akanai’s army to take into account, as well as Baatar’s strike force to boot, meaning it was possible Nian Zu felt the timing was not right because he knew his allies were not yet in place. How he knew this, he could not say, for he had only limited contact with Akanai these past few days and no contact with Baatar whatsoever, and yet he trusted his instincts without fail.

One day, then two, and finally a third passed, and still Nian Zu’s army sat idle outside the walls of Shi Bei, ignoring the Enemy’s attempts to bait them out of position and responding to the true threats with the bare minimum of force required. As the sun rose on the fourth morning however, he strode out of his tent to take in the sights, and found what he saw most pleasing to the eye as his gut stirred and heart soared with certainty. “Hear me,” he projected, his voice booming out over the camp and echoing all the way to Shi Bei and beyond. “This is Colonel General Nian Zu of the North, ordering all soldiers to standby. Irregulars, ready the catapults and commence firing on my mark.” Thirty odd seconds passed in complete and utter silence save for the howl of the wind and the puttering of boots in the sand. Upon receiving confirmation that all catapults were readied, he allowed himself a grin and said, “Loose death upon the Enemy.”

The catapults creaked and thumped as they delivered their heavy payloads, and the keening whistle of doom cut cleanly through the raging winds before coming to an abrupt halt with a crash. Perhaps it was his imagination, but Nian Zu could almost hear the screams of the dead and dying rising up in distance as the Enemy forces came alive like a rattled wasps nest, with some overeager tribals already making their way uphill to cross blades. Thinking to stir them up even further, he saw fit to add his own attack into the mix. His mace in hand, he casually tossed it high into the air and felt it disappear into the Heavens above, invisible to the naked eye yet so obvious to his senses he could track its trajectory with both eyes closed. Chi thrummed within its metallic frame as the Shooting Star built up speed, altitude, and power, the last of which he directed and Amplified with proper timing and determined intent. After three seconds of fighting against gravity, the weapon reached its peak height, and just as its momentum was spent, he gave it a little Guidance to bring the mace hurtling back down to the earth below.

The Enemy sensed it coming, or at least those sensitive enough to the workings of Chi as he poured everything his Core had to offer into this one, singular attack. Only a few ever awakened this sense, something Rain simply called his Spiritual Sense, yet another ability Nian Zu possessed yet never noticed beforehand. Knowing the Enemy saw their death coming filled him with a sense of pride and satisfaction, one which redoubled as the Shooting Star crashed into the eastern wall of Shi Bei with a deafening explosion that rocked him back on his feet. For long seconds, the sand quaked beneath his boots and he feared he’d overdone it, that his attack would bring down the sand dune beneath him and consign hundreds, if not thousands of Imperial troops to their deaths, but the dunes of the West were hardier than they appeared. When the dust finally settled, Nian Zu rubbed the sand out of his eyes and laid eyes upon the destruction he’d wrought, a sight which filled him with such glee even as he recoiled in horror at the devastation he’d caused.

Prior to today, the most destructive blow he’d delivered was the one which toppled his manor at the Northern Wall and slew his Wraith and Demonic assailants, one which resulted in a crater measuring no more than twenty metres across at most. Never before had he unleashed a blow so powerful, and he’d never been able to match it again, for reasons unknown until he read young Rain’s primer. More specifically the section regarding the link between Chi, Heavenly Energy, and souls, which made it clear how he delivered so devastating an attack against his foes while teetering on the brink of death.

Simply put, Nian Zu had poured his very soul into that attack, one he believed would be his final send off before sinking deep into the Mother’s warm embrace.

This attack however, was different. He only survived unleashing such devastation at the Northern Wall thanks to the Medical Saint’s peerless prowess, but this time, Nian Zu’s attack was not driven by instinct, Insight, or desperation. No, this was the result of pairing his signature attack with the lessons gleaned from Rain’s explanation of the Mountain Collapsing Stomp, and the outcome was satisfying indeed. Emanating from the epicentre of his Shooting Star was a crater no less than a thirty-five metres across, with bloodied bodies and broken rubble strewn across the smooth surface of the pit where the eastern wall once stood, and for all of a second, Defiled and Imperial alike stopped in their tracks to take in the devastation Nian Zu unleashed.

Then, without warning, cheers broke the silence that had fallen over the battlefield as the Imperial forces chanted his name and celebrated what Nian Zu had accomplished here today, a feat which would truly cement his place in the annals of history forevermore. The time to act had finally come, and though the Enemy would put all their efforts into killing him now that they knew what he could accomplish, he knew that so long as no new variables were introduced here in Shi Bei, then victory was as good as in his grasp.

For he was Colonel General Situ Nian Zu, no longer simply the Guardian of the North, but the Guardian of the Empire itself.

Chapter Meme