"Some kings conquer with swords. Others... with the faith of the people."
The southern sky burned, but not with flames; the setting sun dyed the imperial standards a deep red, as if the horizon itself celebrated the approaching victory. The warm evening breeze stirred the flags, carrying with it the echo of drums and trumpets announcing an imminent end.
The war had lasted weeks. Loyal troops, provincial soldiers, newly armed militias... all now answered to a single voice: Suwei's. His name ran through the ranks like a chant, a mantra that gave strength and calm at the same time. The soldiers' morale depended not only on orders or rewards, but on the certainty that their consort was there, at the vanguard, guiding them with determination and heart.
