Spring, Month of the First Moon
Year 1705 of the Shangyang Calendar
At the Tran Residence
"Catch this!"
A loud shout echoed across the training courtyard. A man in indigo martial robes, wielding a wooden greatsword, his physique broad and muscular, eyes as sharp as blades, suddenly leapt forth like a raging tiger, breaking through the encirclement of twelve young trainees.
"Let me see what you've learned from me!"
With a sweeping strike like a storm cleaving a mountain, he knocked two young men off the stage. They crashed onto straw mats, gasping for breath.
Three others charged in: one from the left, one from the right, and one leaping from the rear—an attempt to trap him. But to a former general seasoned in the art of war, such tactics were nothing but child's play.
"Fools!" he roared.
The wooden blade spun like lightning, blocking the overhead strike and sending the two others flying with a powerful kick. The one who leapt lost balance midair, crashed down hard onto stone, and began foaming at the mouth.
In mere moments, the twelve trainees lay sprawled, groaning, bruised and battered.
General Tran Uy exhaled, set down his wooden blade, and wiped sweat from his bronze-hued skin. His body gleamed under the spring sun.
From the house, a woman's voice called gently:
"Tran Uy, you've gone too far with those boys again."
Lien Nguyet stepped out from the veranda, holding their son Tran Si by the hand.
"They're not dead yet, so I held back," Tran Uy said, half-smiling, his face a mix of discipline and affection.
"He kept crying for you," she teased, glancing warmly at her husband.
"Tran Si, you're growing up—stop crying like a child." He knelt and gently ruffled his son's hair.
"Father, I want to learn swordsmanship!" the boy tugged on his sleeve.
Tran Uy chuckled. "We agreed—after your formal coming-of-age, we'll decide."
"But..."
"No buts. Have you finished your studies?"
"Yes, Father!"
Before more could be said, a maid rushed in, face pale with urgency.
"My lord! A royal dispatch!"
"Give it to me."
Tran Uy took the scroll bearing the royal jade seal, broke the wax, scanned the contents, and clenched his fist, his eyes blazing.
"Damn those traitorous dogs!"
"What is it, my love?" Lien Nguyet asked, worried.
"The Nam Luong forces have invaded again. They've crossed the Tuu River and are besieging the city of the Minh clan. Only one man escaped to request aid. His Majesty has commanded me to lead one hundred thousand troops to rescue Minh Quy."
Without delay, he went to his armory, donned his Mang Long armor, strapped on his sword Vo Luong, and mounted his warhorse O Van, a steed that had once carried him across countless battlefields.
Before departing, he stopped before his wife and child, his eyes filled with both resolve and sorrow.
"Lien Nguyet… this campaign may take my life. Please care for Tran Si."
The boy burst into tears, clutching his father's leg. Lien Nguyet, holding back her own tears, took a white silk handkerchief from her sleeve and gave it to her husband, hands trembling.
"Carry this with you—as a token of our vow."
Tran Uy tied it to his wrist and raised his hand to the rising sun.
"I swear I will return."
"I believe in you," she whispered.
The general spurred his horse forward. The sound of hooves thundered through the tranquil spring morning. His red-and-gold armor gleamed, and his fiery hair billowed in the wind. Tran Uy rode like a blazing flame, burning away the path toward war.
---
From Tran Residence to the Imperial Palace
Tran Uy galloped at full speed, slowing only upon reaching the palace gate. He dismounted, straightened his armor, and approached the main entrance.
Two palace guards, recognizing the famed general, saluted and opened the grand crimson gate. From within, Ly, a longtime palace servant, hurried forward.
"My lord, this way please. His Majesty awaits in the Great Hall."
Neither man spoke further as they strode swiftly, their steel boots echoing against the polished stone floors.
---
Within the Grand Hall
Lien Tu Anh, Emperor of Dai Lien, reigning under the era title Thai Duc, sat upon a throne crafted from ancient serpentwood. Nearing forty, the emperor bore a dignified presence—raven-black hair and ruby-red eyes, the hallmark of royal blood, radiating wisdom and strength.
Ky, a court eunuch, knocked and bowed.
"Your Majesty, General Tran has arrived."
"Let him in."
Tran Uy entered, dropped to one knee, and bowed deeply.
"Your subject, Tran Uy, pays respects to Your Majesty."
Lien Tu Anh offered a slight smile.
"Tran Uy, are you well? I trust my niece, Lien Nguyet, is too?"
"Thanks to Your Majesty, we are well. May I ask—has turmoil broken out at the frontier?"
The emperor's expression darkened.
"Yes. The city of the Minh clan is besieged by Nam Luong forces. Minh Gia, one of the Four Pillar Clans, remains trapped. We cannot abandon them.
I hereby command you to lead a relief force. Your primary objective is to extract Minh Gia. If possible, drive the enemy from our borders.
You will be provided: – 50,000 infantry,
– 20,000 cavalry,
– 10,000 mages,
- 10,000 Archers
– 200 Hoàng Long crews,and 20 Hoàng Long Grand cannons
along with full rations, arms, and support personnel. Depart without delay."
Tran Uy bowed deeply.
"I accept the command and shall give my all for the realm."
"Then go."
"I take my leave."
---
At Truong Duong Garden – Assembly Grounds
From the palace, he rode straight to the military camp at Truong Duong Uyen. Standing on a high platform, he surveyed the gathering of 100,000 troops—lines of armored men standing tall, banners snapping in the spring wind.
The Imperial Banner led the host, followed by the flags of noble houses: the Ly Clan under blue-silver clouds, the Seigokawa Clan bearing the white tiger—all united under Dai Lien's cause.
Tran Uy raised his right hand and invoked a Wind Spell to amplify his voice:
"Soldiers of Dai Lien!
Our homeland stands on the brink of peril. Will you sit idle while our people bleed and our lands burn?
The Nam Luong invaders dare tread upon our sacred soil, defiling the sacrifices of our ancestors. I, Tran Uy, call upon your strength. Let us crush these enemies, and rescue our comrades besieged within Minh City!"
A brief silence, then—
"Glory to Dai Lien!"
A thunderous cheer erupted across the field, echoing like a storm.
Under the golden spring sun, the grand army began its march—lines of cavalry, mages, war machines, and elite troops all heading through the northern gates of Truong Duong, united by a single cause:
Defend the realm. Protect the people. Destroy the enemy.