The morning sun slowly rose above the Kan Plains, its golden rays piercing the morning mist that hung over the endless battlefield. The light revealed a sight that would forever be remembered in history.
One hundred and ninety-five thousand soldiers stood facing one another.
On one side stood the overwhelming might of Zhao. One hundred and twenty thousand soldiers stretched from one horizon to the other, their countless banners fluttering in the wind like an endless sea of crimson. Spears, shields, glaives, bows, and swords reflected the sunlight, creating a wall of steel that seemed impossible to overcome.
Opposite them stood Qin.
Only seventy-five thousand men.
Every soldier understood the disparity.
Every officer knew the odds.
Many of them had written their final letters before the battle. Others had silently accepted that they would never again embrace their wives, children, parents, or siblings.
The battlefield was eerily quiet.
No one spoke.
The only sounds were the restless snorts of warhorses, the fluttering of banners, and the cold wind sweeping across the plains.
The Qin army had already formed its battle lines.
The center army, commanded by Ri Yue and Lu Shen, stood at the heart of the formation, where the headquarters banner of Qin fluttered proudly in the wind.
The right army under Mo Yun remained perfectly disciplined, their ranks silent as statues while waiting for the signal to march.
On the left wing, Bao Jun and Tian Hao had already positioned their forty thousand soldiers, carefully observing the movements of the sixty thousand Zhao soldiers opposite them.
Only one thing was missing.
Their General.
Hyou Ren had yet to take his position.
Instead, he remained at the central headquarters, standing alone upon a small rise overlooking the entire Qin army.
His officers watched silently.
None dared interrupt him.
Hyou Ren slowly closed his eyes.
He inhaled deeply.
Then, opening his eyes once more, he stepped forward.
His voice erupted across the battlefield like thunder rolling through the mountains.
Every soldier heard him.
From the foremost spearmen to the distant archers, from the left wing to the center and the right, every ear turned toward the man whose victories had carried Qin this far.
"Everything you thought had meaning..."
His words echoed across the plains.
"Every hope."
"Every dream."
"Every moment of happiness."
A heavy silence settled over the army.
"None of it matters... as you lie bleeding upon the battlefield."
"None of it changes what iron and steel do to the human body."
"We all die."
Many soldiers instinctively lowered their heads.
They knew those words were true.
No amount of courage could stop a sword.
No amount of ambition could halt an arrow.
Death came equally to peasants and nobles.
To heroes and cowards alike.
Hyou Ren allowed the silence to linger before speaking again.
"Does that make our lives meaningless?"
"Does death erase everything we have lived for?"
"Was there no meaning in the birth of every man who now rests beneath Qin's soil?"
His sharp gaze swept across the countless soldiers before him.
"What of those who fell beside us?"
"What of the brothers who bled so that we might still stand here today?"
"Were their lives meaningless?"
His voice shook the battlefield.
"No!"
"They were not!"
"They entrusted everything to us!"
"They entrusted us with their dreams!"
"They entrusted us with the future of Qin!"
"They entrusted us with the people they would never again see."
His sword slowly left its scabbard.
The polished blade caught the morning sunlight.
"The memory of our fallen lives within us."
"They are remembered because we refuse to forget them."
"The greatest among us."
"The anguished fallen."
"The warriors who marched forward knowing they would never return."
"As long as we remember them..."
"They will never truly die."
A fire began burning inside the hearts of the Qin soldiers.
The fear that had frozen their bodies slowly began to melt away.
Hyou Ren raised his sword toward the heavens.
"And today..."
"We ride toward that same fate."
"We ride knowing death walks beside us."
"But if death comes..."
"Then let our successors remember us just as we remember those who came before."
His voice became a deafening roar.
"Because my soldiers do not buckle!"
"My soldiers do not yield!"
"When the world itself stands against them..."
"My soldiers advance!"
"My soldiers scream!"
"My soldiers rage!"
For a single heartbeat...
The battlefield fell completely silent.
Then it happened.
"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"
Seventy-five thousand Qin soldiers unleashed a battle cry so overwhelming that the very earth seemed to tremble beneath their feet.
The roar echoed across the Kan Plains.
Birds took flight from distant forests.
Even the horses of Zhao became restless.
The soldiers who had moments ago feared death now raised their weapons high into the sky.
Every trace of hesitation had vanished.
Every doubt had disappeared.
Within each Qin warrior burned an inferno that no sword could extinguish.
They had accepted death.
And because they had accepted it...
They no longer feared it.
To the Zhao army, it was as though seventy-five thousand demons had appeared before them.
Even the veteran generals of Zhao narrowed their eyes as the overwhelming spirit of the Qin army washed over the battlefield.
From atop his command post, Mangoku slowly smiled.
"So... this is Hyou Ren."
Beside him, Shou Mou gripped his massive mace tighter.
"They're ready to die."
Kouson Ryuu remained silent, his sharp eyes fixed upon the distant figure who had transformed an outnumbered army with nothing more than his words.
Meanwhile, Hyou Ren sheathed his sword.
His speech had achieved exactly what he intended.
The first battle had already been won.
Not against Zhao.
Against fear itself.
Fear was the greatest enemy an army could face.
A frightened soldier hesitated.
A frightened officer made mistakes.
A frightened army collapsed long before its bodies did.
If Qin wished to survive five days against overwhelming numbers, fear had to die before the battle began.
Only then could the men standing before him fight as one.
Hyou Ren mounted his horse and began riding toward the left wing.
Forty thousand soldiers watched as their general approached.
The banners of the Hyou Army fluttered proudly in the wind.
Across the battlefield stood the Zhao left army.
Sixty thousand strong.
Mangoku.
Shou Mou.
Kouson Ryuu.
Three veteran generals.
Three armies.
Twice the number of Qin's left wing.
Hyou Ren calmly studied their formations.
"Our objective is not victory today," he said quietly to the commanders riding beside him.
"Our objective is survival."
His eyes never left the enemy.
"To survive five days against an army of this size, we must cripple their ability to break through."
He slowly drew his sword once more, pointing its tip toward the Zhao left army.
"By the end of this day..."
"One of Zhao's three generals must fall."
"If they retain all three commanders, their pressure will only increase with each passing day."
"But if one falls..."
"Their coordination will weaken."
"Their momentum will falter."
"And the five days we need to survive become possible."
The officers around him nodded.
They finally understood.
This was not merely a battle.
It was a war of endurance.
Every day survived was a victory.
Every Zhao commander slain was another day earned.
Hyou Ren lowered his sword.
The distant war drums began to thunder.
Boom!
Boom!
Boom!
Across the Kan Plains, banners surged forward.
The horns of Qin and Zhao sounded together, their echoes shaking the heavens.
Nearly two hundred thousand soldiers began their advance.
Steel would soon clash against steel.
Blood would soon soak the earth.
The Battle of Kan Plains...
Had finally begun.