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Yan Kong forcefully sheathed his dagger, the sound of metal clashing echoing in the cramped palanquin. He sat back in his seat, anger etched on his face, arms crossed over his chest, his gaze cutting like a blade towards Feng Huo, his chest still heaving with rage.
Feng Huo, however, remained calm. He raised a hand to lightly touch the thin line of blood on his neck where the dagger had once been poised. A hint of amusement flickered in his eyes as he lowered his hand, appearing as if the confrontation had never occurred.
"The total loss of soldiers stands at one hundred and six," Feng Huo began slowly, his tone measured and devoid of emotion, as if reporting a set of cold statistics. "The loss of equipment is less than one percent, and the overall combat effectiveness remains largely unaffected." He paused, fixing his gaze on Yan Kong with a smile that was neither here nor there. "For an elite unit, such losses are indeed painful, but they must be accepted; this is the price of war."
Yan Kong's brow furrowed tighter, his fists clenched tightly as he struggled to suppress the anger threatening to erupt again.
Observing Yan Kong's reaction, Feng Huo's smile faded slightly, and his tone grew more serious. "The most important thing is not those cold numbers, but morale, Yan Kong. Do you see how they look at you? Their eyes hold not just respect but trust. They believe you can lead them to survive, that you can break through any enemy's defenses and find hope in dire situations. This trust is more precious than any equipment."
Yan Kong raised his eyes to meet Feng Huo's gaze; there was still a chill in his expression, but something deep within him seemed to stir.
"This loss feels more like a blood sacrifice to them," Feng Huo continued, his voice laced with a cold rationality. "The fallen soldiers exchanged their blood and lives for the morale of the entire unit and your reputation. I will bear this burden alone because it was I who made this decision from the start; I am the commander of this team."
His gaze deepened with a weighty seriousness that was impossible to ignore. "So you may hate me, Yan Kong. Hate me for being cold, cruel, and indifferent to human life. But do not doubt that these sacrifices are made to achieve a greater victory."
A brief silence fell over the palanquin, broken only by the steady sound of footsteps outside. Yan Kong's hands slowly relaxed from their tight grip on his knees. He turned to look out the window at the soldiers regaining order outside, feeling a tumult of emotions within him—anger mingled with an unwilling understanding.
As the procession slowed down, commands and orders echoed ahead while the Fog City Soldiers began to orderly retreat to their designated encampment. Inside the palanquin, Yan Kong observed through the window as soldiers bustled about outside. The setting sun was gradually swallowed by the mountains, casting a soft orange glow across the horizon as if painting a gentle afterglow over the war-torn land.
Soldiers moved back and forth within designated areas; some carried tents while others set up lights. Teams established temporary defenses around the camp's perimeter. Their movements were practiced and harmonious; even after a fierce battle, they quickly immersed themselves in preparations for what lay ahead. Flames began to flicker in the camp, starkly contrasting against the darkening sky.
Yan Kong surveyed it all with a thoughtful expression on his face. His hand rested lightly on the hilt of his dagger as he leaned slightly forward, scrutinizing the soldiers' actions. Although he never considered himself a qualified leader, this scene of organized activity brought him an unnoticeable sense of stability.
Suddenly, Feng Huo's hand landed on Yan Kong's knee—light yet commanding attention. Yan Kong glanced down at him; Feng Huo wore that signature smile and said softly, "Let’s go; it’s time to head down." His tone was casual yet carried an undercurrent that suggested this was not merely a suggestion but an order that could not be refused.
Yan Kong frowned slightly and hesitated for a moment before gathering his thoughts and rising to follow Feng Huo out of the palanquin. Nightfall quietly descended as Wu Jing's soldiers illuminated the camp with flickering flames that danced alongside the cold glint of blades—hinting at more storms and bloodshed yet to come.
Inside the camp, lights blazed brightly as soldiers busily organized their gear, weapons, and supplies. Each face bore signs of post-battle fatigue yet moved swiftly and skillfully without pause. They were acutely aware of the next challenge looming ahead and did not allow themselves a moment's rest.
Feng Huo and Yan Kong walked side by side through the camp. Along their path, soldiers noticed them and immediately halted their tasks, standing straight with respect as they greeted them: "Lord Fenghuo! Lord Yan Kong!" Their voices were filled with reverence tinged with nervousness.
Feng Huo simply waved his hand lightly, a consistent faint smile on his face. "There's no need to be so formal; go ahead and attend to your duties." His voice, though gentle, carried an undeniable authority that snapped the soldiers back to attention, refocusing them on their tasks.
Yan Kong remained silent, his gaze fixed straight ahead, occasionally glancing at the soldiers who greeted him. His expression was stern, and a hint of fatigue lingered in his eyes. Yet, the innate intimidation he exuded compelled every soldier to hasten their movements after a brief encounter with his gaze.
The two men made their way through the camp and arrived at the Command Tent located in the central area. A few guards stood outside the tent; upon seeing Feng Huo and Yan Kong approach, they quickly opened the entrance, their eyes filled with reverence.
Stepping inside the tent, the dim yellow light illuminated every detail of the space. The interior was simply yet efficiently arranged; a long table in the center was covered with tactical maps and documents, while several portable analysis terminals flickered with streams of data. The aide sat in a nearby chair, intently focused on the screen before him. The smart glasses perched on his nose projected data sets, and the virtual interface displayed constantly shifting graphs and text, indicating he was engaged in meticulous analysis.
Hearing the commotion at the entrance, the aide quickly looked up. Upon seeing Feng Huo and Yan Kong enter, he immediately stood up and gave a slight bow. "Lord Feng Huo, Lord Yan Kong." His tone was respectful, and his movements were brisk, clearly indicating he had been prepared for their arrival.
Feng Huo nodded slightly, casually brushing aside his coat as he approached the long table. His gaze swept over the documents and maps before he turned to the aide. "How is the data analysis coming along?" His tone remained nonchalant, but an invisible pressure instantly thickened the atmosphere within the tent.
Yan Kong stood to one side, arms crossed over his chest, coldly surveying everything inside the tent. He had little interest in the data or tactical plans but maintained an ever-watchful vigilance as he quietly awaited further instructions.
The aide adjusted his smart glasses and spoke in a calm and measured tone as if delivering an unremarkable report. "According to reports from our scouts, Commander Yang Chuan's forces are not as numerous as we previously estimated. Today's raid resulted in significant losses for their Flame Cavalry, which has directly affected their morale. Interestingly enough, their commander seems to have abandoned further action, opting instead to hold onto their currently seized frontline and plan for reinforcements from Yang Chuan."
Feng Huo took a seat at the center of the tent, hands clasped together as he lightly tapped his index finger against the table, producing a subtle yet rhythmic sound. His gaze lowered as if he were concentrating on the maps and documents before him; however, a hint of amusement flickered across his face. His smile lacked any warmth and resembled that of someone enjoying an intriguing chess match—particularly fascinated by Commander Yang Chuan's choices.
"Hold onto the frontline and wait for reinforcements?" Feng Huo repeated softly with a trace of mockery in his tone. He lifted his head slightly, shifting his gaze toward the aide with an increasingly pronounced smile at the corners of his mouth. "What a clever yet conservative choice. Unfortunately... in such circumstances, conservatism is precisely what is least needed."
Yan Kong stood nearby, listening to Feng Huo's words with a slight furrow in his brow. He glanced down at the map on the table, arms still crossed as he coldly fixed his gaze on Feng Huo. "So what do you mean? Attack or wait?" His voice was low and tinged with impatience.
Feng Huo chuckled softly without providing a direct answer. Instead, he traced a circle on the map with his fingertip as if marking something significant. "Commander Yang Chuan is someone who fears losing," he said, raising his eyes with an air of undeniable confidence. "And those who fear losing will often cling to that insignificant advantage while sacrificing greater possibilities. What do you think? Should we give him a little surprise?"
He cast his gaze over the documents on the table once more, then turned to his aide, his tone calm yet laced with a hidden sharpness. "Notify the frontline troops to prepare our elite forces. It’s time for us to make our next move in this game."
Upon hearing Feng Huo's command, the aide nodded quickly, his face devoid of any unnecessary expression. He adjusted his uniform and hurried out of the tent. As the flap lifted and fell back into place, a gust of cold wind swept in, causing the light inside to flicker slightly.
Feng Huo withdrew his gaze and turned to Yan Kong, who stood nearby. A faint smile played on his lips as he spoke lightly, yet with an edge of provocation. "So, what do you think, Yan Kong? What’s the best way to attack?"
Yan Kong furrowed his brow, casting a cold glance at Feng Huo but not responding immediately. He lowered his eyes to the Display Device on the table, where a three-dimensional terrain map of Yang Chuan's frontline was displayed. The frontline resembled a ferocious beast, firmly occupying a natural high ground, the entire landscape clear at a glance.
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