The smell of scorched earth still hung in the air, but a new death had already descended upon the Northern Frontier camp.
Chu Hongying stood on the snow-covered slope at the edge of the camp, looking down at A'gula's cold corpse. The uniquely patterned arrow had pierced his throat with lethal precision. The blood around the wound had frozen into dark red crystals, glinting eerily in the dawn light. This Northern Di general, who might have become a key to unraveling the situation, along with the secrets and possibilities he represented, had been utterly extinguished before dawn.
"A single, clean kill," Gu Changfeng remarked, his usual smile absent as he crouched by the body for a closer look. "This isn't a battlefield technique. It's a professional assassination."
Chu Hongying remained silent. Her gaze traveled beyond A'gula's body to the distant, snow-blanketed mountain ranges.
"He struggled before he died," Lu Wanning said softly, her fingers tracing uneven marks in the snow. "But strangely, there are no signs of a fight nearby. It's as if he willingly approached his killer."
Zhao Dashan ran up, panting. "General, we've checked. The patrols last night reported nothing unusual. This arrow... it's as if it fell from the sky."
Chu Hongying slowly knelt and pried an object from A'gula's tightly clenched fist—a wolf-tooth token stained with blood, intricately carved with patterns strikingly similar to those on the arrow fletching.
"This is... the highest-level pass token of the Wolfclaw Battalion," Shen Yuzhu's voice came from behind her. He had approached unnoticed, his voice still weak but carrying a note of urgency. "No more than three people hold such a token."
Chu Hongying's heart jolted. She remembered the golden needle she had seen at Shen Yuzhu's neck, the strange cold poison ravaging his body, the evidence catalog with the notation 'Forbidden object from the Inner Palace.' All the scattered clues suddenly connected, threaded together by an invisible string.
"Pass the order," she said, rising to her feet, her composure restored. "Say we found the body of a Northern Di spy and buried it on the spot. Drills proceed as usual today. No discussion."
The others acknowledged the command and dispersed, leaving only Shen Yuzhu behind. The cold wind whipped his white robes. His handsome face was unusually grave.
"General Chu, do you know," he asked quietly, "why the Wolfclaw Battalion brands its death warriors on the back of the neck?"
Chu Hongying shook her head, waiting for him to continue.
"Because it's the place most easily reached by a comrade's blade," Shen Yuzhu's tone was terrifyingly calm. "In the Wolfclaw Battalion, everyone is both the knife and the meat on the chopping block. When you lose your value, your closest brother-in-arms becomes your executioner."
The chill in his words cut deeper than the Northern Frontier's wind and snow. Chu Hongying suddenly understood that Shen Yuzhu's every probe and concealment was merely an act of survival under these brutal rules.
"A'gula was once Helian Sha's most trusted lieutenant," Shen Yuzhu continued. "His death means the purges have begun within the Wolfclaw Battalion. And to accomplish this so silently, right outside our heavily guarded camp..."
"...Means there is a hidden piece among us, far deeper than we imagined," General Chu finished his sentence, her gaze sharp as a blade.
Their eyes met, recognizing the same vigilance in each other. In that moment, they were no longer the probing General and the strategist, but allies struggling within the same web of conspiracy.
Just then, the rapid beat of hooves approached. A messenger dismounted swiftly, holding aloft a sealed dispatch.
"General Chu! An urgent message! The Northern Di army is on the move, their vanguard has reached the Black River!"
Chu Hongying unrolled the letter, her pupils constricting. It not only reported the military movement but also contained shocking news—Helian Sha had been assassinated in his camp yesterday and was gravely injured, unconscious.
Everything fell into place. A'gula's death, Helian Sha's assassination, the unusual mobilization of the Northern Di army... It was as if an invisible hand was simultaneously stirring the chessboards of both the Northern Di and the Northern Frontier.
She turned to issue orders, but saw Shen Yuzhu sway, nearly collapsing. Chu Hongying instinctively reached out to steady him, her palm feeling the faint but frantic pulse beneath his icy wrist.
"Are you alright?" The question escaped her lips before she even registered the concern in her own voice.
Shen Yuzhu struggled to stand straight, a bitter smile twisting his pale face. "It seems someone doesn't want me to see the full picture of this game."
Before his words faded, an eerie flute melody drifted from the distance. The notes rose and fell in a strange, unsettling rhythm, sending a palpitation through everyone present.
Lu Wanning's face paled. "That's... the Southern Frontier's Death-Urging Flute! Its tune is designed to activate specific poison marks. Those who hear it will have latent toxins within them awakened, leading to certain death within three days!"
As the flute sound grew closer, the warhorses in the camp grew restless, and the soldiers began showing signs of distress. General Chu gripped the Lie Feng spear tightly, her eyes scanning the snowy plains until she finally spotted a faint, dark figure on a distant ridge.
The figure stood alone in the wind and snow, a bone flute at its lips emitting the deadly notes.
"Protect the General!" Zhao Dashan shouted, leading the personal guards to form a protective circle around her.
But General Chu pushed through them and took a step forward. She recognized that figure—it was the leader of the Brocade Guard she had encountered in the Snow Wolf Valley ice cavern.
"General Chu, I trust you've been well since we last met?" The distant voice carried clearly to every ear, revealing profound inner strength. "Do you like this greeting gift?"
Before General Chu could respond, Shen Yuzhu grunted beside her, spewing a mouthful of black blood that splattered stark against the snow. The wolf-head brand on the back of his neck began to glow with a sinister red light under the influence of the flute, like a awakened venomous snake starting to devour his life force.
"So that's it..." Shen Yuzhu lifted his head with difficulty amidst the agony, his eyes holding a resolve she had never seen before. "They don't want my life... but to find your weakness through me."
The flute music grew more urgent. The snow on the plain began to tremble strangely. Under the astonished gazes of all, figures in white robes burst from the snow like phantoms clawing their way out of the underworld, swiftly surrounding the Northern Frontier camp. The patterns on their white robes were identical to those on the arrow and the token.
General Chu surveyed her surroundings, finally seeing the true nature of this game—from the meeting in Snow Wolf Valley, to the camp fire, to today's ambush, all the traps had been set long ago, waiting for her to walk into them step by step.
The Lie Feng spear hummed in her hand, as if sensing its master's boiling battle intent. She turned to look at the barely-standing Shen Yuzhu, her voice ringing out clearly across the field:
"Tell your former masters—"
"My weakness—Chu Hongying's weakness—has never been about protecting another."
"It is that those who dare harm someone I care about will pay the price."
With these words, her spear shot out like a dragon, aimed directly at the source of the flute music on the distant ridge.
Before the echoes of her challenge faded, the distant dark figure smiled faintly. The bone flute's pitch suddenly sharpened, and the snowy plain began to split open, a deep, bottomless fissure tearing through the ground—