Heavy felt walls kept the winter at bay, though the canvas groaned under the weight of the evening freeze settling over the camp. Inside, the tent was dense with heat and the sharp, ancient smells of life on the march: burning cedar, damp wool, leather oil, and the sizzle of mutton fat dripping into a central iron brazier.
A dozen captains and unit leaders sat cross-legged on thick sheepskin rugs spread over the frozen earth. The glow of the coals carved deep shadows across weathered faces—men and women hardened by seasons of campaign, their heavy cloaks unclasped at the shoulder to let in the warmth. Hot steam rose from brass cups filled with boiled tea and fermented mare's milk, passed hand to hand in quiet, disciplined rhythm.
At the center of the ring, a hide map of the surrounding territory lay stretched flat on a low wooden board. No one shouted. The atmosphere was charged with the quiet, focused gravity of veteran commanders, their voices dropping into low hums over the crackle of the embers as they studied the routes marked in charcoal. Outside, the night air was turning to iron; inside, surrounded by smoke and low fire, the heart of the army was plotting its next move.
Using a long wooden pointer, Chinua traced the carved boundary of the territory, sliding the tip downward until it tapped heavily against the hide.
"The Nuaza River splits this portion of Payapasa, which now belongs to Hmagol. Per His Majesty's decree, our southern campaign will commence within the year," Chinua said, her voice cutting through the heavy air with unquestioned authority. Every eye in the tent locked onto the map where her pointer rested. "As you all know, I hold a deep, personal hatred for the Zasra Army. I need not remind anyone here why."
Silence fell over the captains. No one needed a reminder. Everyone knew how Zasra had backed the exiled prince Dzhambul to stir chaos in the capital, how they orchestrated the murder of the late king, and how they dispatched assassins to Taegye—where three of Chinua's most loyal captains laid down their lives to ensure her survival.
"The first stronghold we will wrest from the Zasra Kingdom is Tailin City," Chinua continued, bringing the tip of the stick to a hard stop over the marked fortress. "Once Tailin falls, this entire region comes under our banner—and as planned, this piece of land will be ceded to Umusa."
She lowered the stick, resting its base on the frozen ground, and swept her gaze across the veteran leaders sitting around the brazier. "Are there any questions?"
A female unit leader raised her hand slightly. "Chinua, I do not understand the strategy behind handing Tailin City over to Umusa."
"To eliminate our shared border with the Zasra Kingdom," Chinua replied plainly. "Umusa becomes our buffer."
"And what if Umusa turns on us?" another unit leader asked, leaning forward. "What stops them from turning their sights northward?"
"The commander's concern is valid," Bilguun chimed in, nodding slowly. "We maintain good relations with the Musian King for now, but what happens when ambition takes hold and they decide our southern settlements belong to them?"
Hye leaned over, retrieved the wooden pointer from the map, and tapped three distinct points in smooth succession: the sovereign territories of Buyant, Zhongqiu, and Noncho.
"Because we have already secured a pact with these three kingdoms," Hye said, lifting his chin. "If the Musians ever dare to launch an invasion, they will find themselves caught between our forces and three allied fronts. King Hakim will not risk total encirclement—not if he knows how to read a map."
"The Musians won't move," Zhi added smoothly, taking a sip from his bowl as the steam rose around his face. "Unless our southern territories fall to Tanggolia first. King Hakim is smart enough to know that Tailin is a trap wrapped in silk... but it is a gift he cannot afford to refuse."
A heavy silence fell over the tent as the captains and unit leaders digested Hye and Zhi's explanation. The true brilliance of their general and king's political maneuver became clear—Tailin was not a reward, but a golden chain tethering Umusa to their defense line.
"So," a unit leader spoke up, breaking the quiet. "Who has Chinua chosen to command this campaign?"
"History proves that the future always belongs to the young; therefore, the primary command is still being weighed," Chinua replied smoothly. "This campaign is not yet official. I share this strategy tonight so each of you may prepare your units for what is coming before the year turns."
She paused, letting her words settle before continuing.
"In five days, Captain Möndör and his unit will ride south to secure and transport the supply trains granted by our allies in Buyant, Zhongqiu, and Noncho." Her sharp eyes swept across the seated commanders. "If there is nothing further to raise, the council is dismissed." Her gaze shifted toward the rear of the tent. "Möndör, remain."
When the heavy felt entrance flap fell shut, only four remained in the warm, smoke-filled air: Chinua, Hye, Khunbish, and Möndör.
Chinua turned to face the young captain. "To the rest of the army, your assignment is merely a supply run. But as we discussed in secret, your primary objective is to survey and map the fastest strike route straight into Tailin."
"I understand, Chinua," Möndör replied smoothly.
"I refrained from announcing it during the council, but I have already chosen who will spearhead the Tailin Campaign," she said.
"Whom have you chosen?" Möndör asked, his deep voice rumbling low.
"Zhi and you," Chinua said directly. "Zhi knows the southern terrain better than anyone under my command. You are young and eager for glory and pairing you with my second-in-command is the greatest advantage I can grant you." She reached out, tapping his shoulder with firm approval. "The future is yours to claim, Möndör. You have never failed a task I gave you—there is no one more suited to tear down Tailin's gates."
Möndör bowed his head in a measured nod. "I will not fail you."
"Safe travels," Chinua offered a rare, slight smile. "Oh—and see to it that my advisor returns in one piece."
Möndör's eyes snapped toward Hye in open surprise. "Sir Hye is riding with us?"
"What, do you take issue with my company, kid?" Hye asked, arching an eyebrow.
"No, sir," Möndör stammered, looking down. "I merely—"
"Relax," Hye chuckled, cutting him off with a wave of his hand. "I won't be complaining from the cushions of a supply wagon this time. I'll be in the saddle right alongside your men."
Möndör let out a quiet breath of relief. "I will notify my unit at once." He bowed sharply and stepped out into the freezing night.
When the heavy entrance flap fell shut, leaving only Chinua, Hye, and Khunbish in the warm, smoke-filled air, Hye lowered his wooden pointer and turned his full attention toward Chinua.
"Although we have finalized our strategy here, King Es Ke will not sit idly by after losing two of his major cities," Hye said, his brow furrowed with genuine concern.
"He wouldn't dare charge at us right now," Chinua replied smoothly, her tone cold and completely unbothered. "Before he could even march his armies toward our lines, he would first have to cut through his own starving citizens—the very people he locked out in the cold. Besides, even if the King hungers for revenge, his ministers will never allow it."
She turned her gaze directly to Hye.
"You don't need to worry about the northern front," she continued. "The day you set off for the south, Khunbish, Timicin, and I will ride directly to Ntsua-Ntu." Her eyes flickered toward the dancing flames of the hearth as a sharp sneer touched her lips. "I am eager to see if those silk-draped ministers in Ntsua-Ntu truly serve the court and its people... or merely their own pockets."
"If we are going to wage a prolonged war," Hye pressed, his expression grave, "we will need the full, unwavering support of the imperial court."
"Which is precisely why I am going to Ntsua-Ntu myself," Chinua declared, her voice laced with absolute conviction.
Chinua then turned back to Hye, her eyebrows twitching with subtle amusement as she lightened the mood. "You see that earlier? Your high-maintenance lifestyle is making my field officers nervous."
"Say another word," Hye warned, leveling the long wooden pointer straight at her chest, "and I'm commandeering your golden carriage for the ride south."
Just then, the heavy leather door flap swung open, and Yongyee walked in, his long, heavy strides bringing him to a halt before Chinua's desk.
"I am here," Yongyee said quietly.
Chinua looked up, a faint, polite smile touching her lips. "Sit, Captain."
Yongyee glanced from Chinua to Hye, and finally over to Khunbish. A spark of frustration burned beneath his weathered face. "Is that title even valid in your army?" he demanded, his voice tight. "There is no need to mock me with a rank from a fallen city."
"I am not mocking you," Chinua replied smoothly, holding his gaze without flinching. "You said it yourself on the riverbank—you and your men are willing to serve under my banner."
"My men and I made that pledge," Yongyee said, his eyes narrowing. "Yet the Hmagol Eastern General still keeps us locked inside prisoner quarters like common captives. I understand how war works—there is no freedom or merit until a deed is done."
Chinua chuckled softly, and Hye let out a low laugh beside her.
"And that deed is walking straight toward you, Captain Yongyee," Hye said with a calm smile, lifting his teacup to take a slow, deliberate sip.
Yongyee frowned, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"It means you and your three hundred men will march south and take Tailin for us under General Zhi," Chinua declared, her tone leaving no room for doubt. "This will not only give you hope, but also offer hope to those who are still unwilling to surrender to Hmagol. If you wish for those captives to share the same dream and hope as you, now is the time. It is also the moment for me to prove to you that I, Chinua of Hmagol, do not go back on my promise."
Yongyee froze, staring at her in sheer disbelief. "You... you are actually going to arm us? You would hand weapons back to defeated enemies?"
Chinua leaned forward, her sharp, dark eyes locking onto his with absolute authority.
"Trust is earned, Captain," Chinua said, her voice dropping into a hard, unwavering quiet. "So do not waste the single chance I am giving you."