Back on the city wall, Chong turned from the horror show below to Hye, who stood calmly watching the remnants of the Razaasia cavalry retreat back to their original starting point.
Chong looked at Hye—at the strategist's quiet composure, his devastating insight into logistics and anatomy, and his ruthless ability to weaponize scarcity. Suddenly, a terrible realization dawned on the General: he hadn't lost Nue-Li City to the strong, organized Hmagol army; he lost Nue-Li City to one man. And that man was now standing on his side, guiding the desperate defense of Zaoging.
Chong swallowed hard, his awe and fear blending into a potent respect. He wondered deeply what it took for Chinua to have such a brilliant, ruthless individual standing beside her—someone who could turn disadvantage into a devastating advantage, who could plan such a brilliant strategy using minimal manpower to overcome a two-thousand-strong cavalry.
Chong looked at Hye and then back at the enemy camp, his awe deepening into true respect. "What does it take to have someone like you serve your General?" he asked, his voice low but respectful, probing the mystery of Hye's allegiance.
Hye turned to look at Chong, his expression utterly neutral. "I already told you, General. I serve no one."
Chong chuckled softly, shaking his head. "It's clear that you serve under General Chinua." He sighed, the memory of his own defeat still raw. "Let me guess: the peace treaty, the white cloth, the safe passageway for surrendered enemy soldiers—was all of that your idea?"
Hye sighed and glanced at Chong, who also let out a soft sigh, acknowledging the depth of the mystery surrounding the strategist.
"Chinua and I, we are not master and slave, nor commander and soldier," Hye explained, his gaze distant, reflecting on a cherished memory. "Our relationship is beyond that. We are good friends—'soulmates' is what she calls it—who happen to share the same idea of the world."
Hye turned back to the General, a proud, sharp smile returning to his face. "To answer your question, General, for someone like me, it doesn't take much for me to be willing to bend my knees, but from others, my serving fee is something they are not willing to pay."
Chong was completely taken aback. His eyes widened, sensing an opportunity to secure this tactical genius for the Gimsong Kingdom. "And what is that?" he asked, leaning in. He knew his ideas of command were strikingly similar to Hye's, and he was willing to comply with almost any demand to change Hye's mind.
Hye didn't answer directly. He simply moved his attention back to the battlefield. After a short silence between the two men, Hye finally broke it.
"General," Hye said with a smile, his eyes still fixed in the distance. "You cannot afford the price."
Chong pressed him. "How do you know?"
Hye turned to look directly at Chong. "Because my price has been offered to you once, and you declined it."
Chong quickly thought back, searching every memory, but he couldn't recall ever crossing paths with someone like Hye.
"This old fool doesn't remember that we ever crossed paths," Chong finally admitted.
Hye gave him a knowing smile. "The offer was already declined and the Magoli soldiers have already been skinned alive. Therefore, I will not turn around and cross a bridge that was once broken and is now bound with knots." He turned and walked away, leaving Chong alone with his thoughts.
Chong stood stunned, watching Hye slowly walk away from him. In that flash, a terrible moment of his own memory surged back to him.
It was the day he had just won a fierce battle with Magoli soldiers. The rain was falling heavily, and the Magoli captives, stripped naked of their armor, their hands tied behind their backs, were forced to kneel in front of Nue-Li City. They faced the long border line that separated Nue-Li City from the Northeastern Camp of the Hmagol Kingdom—a position chosen specifically to maximize their shame and terror.
Hye, at that time barely in his early twenties, rushed out from the southern gate of Nue-Li City, heading straight toward Chong and Nta. He ran forward, shouting, "General! You promised! If you promised, you cannot go back on your word!"
Hye was stopped by two soldiers who each held his arms tightly.
"If you are a man, turn and face me!" Hye shouted, his voice raw with betrayal.
Chong turned around and looked at the young man who stared at him with detesting eyes. He took three steps toward Hye. "Son, no one in this world will be willing to accept your terms for your services," he said, gently tapping Hye's right shoulder. "I will make sure that your name is mentioned in front of His Majesty. For the rest of your life, you won't have to worry about being hungry again."
"I helped you retake Nue-Li not for fame," Hye spat through gritted teeth.
Chong, who had just reclaimed the city, didn't want to argue with Hye in front of his victorious soldiers. "Son, go back, take a bath, eat something, and we will talk about this later." He turned his back to Hye and gave his final, merciless order. "Skinned these dogs just like they did to our fellow brothers."
The Ginmiao soldiers began skinning the captured Magoli soldiers alive. As their screams of agony grew, Nta turned to Hye and said with a chilling smile, "I've never heard such pleasant sounds before."
Hye stared straight at Nta, his voice low with cold promise. "Two wrongs don't make you a more superior being. One day... I will show you what true superiority looks like."
Hye broke free from the soldiers holding him, and he slowly walked away, disappearing into the heavy rain and the mass of civilians who had come out to watch the brutal execution of the captured Magoli.
Chong stood stunned on the rampart. As the memories of Hye and the Magoli execution slowly faded, he revisited the entire fall of Nue-Li City—from the moment Hye showed up to offer them a way out, to every moment from the white cloth to his captured and imprisoned. He let out a series of hollow chuckles, shaking his head.
He laughed not at anyone else, but at his own stupidity. He had believed he was morally superior; he had believed he could cling to the old rules of war while his enemy used none. He had chosen the small pride of revenge over the strategic ruthlessness necessary for victory, and the price was his entire city.
Chong felt the heavy weight of that moment—the broken promise of mercy, the brutal execution, and Hye's furious confrontation over the sacredness of a commander's word.
That was the fee. Not gold, not power, but honor. Hye demanded the unwavering integrity of his commander, a willingness to adhere to rules that transcended military expediency. Chinua had paid it by trusting Hye's vision; Chong had failed to pay it by choosing revenge over commitment.
"Oh, fool," he murmured to himself with a shameful smile. "You had the best weapon in your hands, and yet you foolishly let it slip through your fingers." He sighed, still feeling the shame washing over him. "I was foolish enough to refuse your price... I never thought that there would be someone willing to accept your terms: no killing or torture of civilians, no stealing from civilians, and no torture of surrendered enemy soldiers." He continued laughing alone in the dark, the chilling sound lost to the wind, realizing that the man who demanded unyielding humanity was also the greatest weapon against the inhumanity of the enemy.
He shook off the self-condemnation and focused on the man who was now his only hope of defending a falling city.
The Razaasia offered no movement, no immediate reprisal for the devastating morning ambush. The battlefield remained a gruesome spectacle: the dead Razaasia soldiers lay exactly where they had fallen, scattered among the corpses of their magnificent warhorses before the city wall of Zaoging.
Tonight, the mocking celebration was gone. There was no party, no grilling, no laughter, and no drinking to taunt the defenders. The silence from the enemy camp was heavier and far more intimidating than their previous noise, suggesting cold, calculated fury rather than simple defeat.
Using the night and the Ghost Hours—the deepest, most silent part of the predawn darkness—as their best protection, a small, highly organized group of Ginmiao soldiers and civilians began to move. They sneaked out through a small, open crack in the main gate, which had been left just wide enough for a single person to pass. Working with synchronized precision, moving together like assembled ants, they began their vital, grim task.
Their objective was twofold: they meticulously retrieved the discarded weapons and armor from the fallen Razaasia, collecting every sword, shield, and quiver. More importantly, they worked silently to complete the work begun by the civilians that morning, retrieving the dead horses that the Razaasia had left as a monument to their humiliation. Every piece of usable equipment and every pound of meat was critical to their continued survival and defiance.
As the night deepened, taking its toll on the city's strained nerves, a small group of Ginmiao soldiers sat huddled slightly away from the larger clusters of men and civilians. They stared at the chunks of freshly grilled horsemeat cooking over an open fire. Their stomachs were growling nonstop, a physical ache of sustained hunger, but, disciplined from a young age, they refused to eat the meat. They left the grilled horsemeat sitting untouched in front of them, desperately trying to focus their attention elsewhere to divert their hunger.
"Hey, brothers."
The sharp, clear voice made the three soldiers look up. They saw a younger soldier looking down at them, their face still slightly grime-covered.
"If you are not going to eat it, can I have it?"
"Go ahead," one soldier said, pushing the grilled meat toward the foot of the young soldier.
"Are you one of the newcomers?" asked another soldier, eyeing the eager figure.
Sitting cross-legged on the ground, the young soldier picked up the grilled meat and began eating. "Yes, I am," she said. She purposefully took another bite. "Hmm... tastes just like beef, but with a sweeter flavor." She slowly chewed and watched the three men pointedly swallow down their saliva, their discipline warring with their desperation.
"Phia!" Konn's voice sounded, sharp and commanding. "Quickly, eat. Tonight, you and the other archers are going out with us."
Phia quickly nodded at Konn, then snatched up the grilled horsemeat and began eating, knowing this meal might be her last.
Chinua turned to look at Konn, her mouth full. "Are you doing another sneak attack on the enemy camp?"
Konn looked down at the young archer. "Yes, but this is a distraction, not a fight. This will be the most dangerous mission we have run yet. We are targeting their siege equipment."
Chinua stood up quickly, the archer's excitement barely masking the General's focus. "Captain, I am a very good archer. Please take me with you."
Konn hesitated, studying the small frame of the soldier. He was already sending his men on a suicidal distraction. Taking a young, eager volunteer seemed irresponsible, but they were short on capable hands.
"You," Konn said, his voice firm. "This is not a mission for fame. We are meant to draw fire and retreat. If you join us, you follow orders, you shoot only on my command, and you do not break rank. Understood?"
"Understood, Captain," Chinua replied, snapping a sharp salute.