The northern wind carried the fading echoes of the Phoenix Army's retreat—disciplined, honorable, but undeniably defeated. The pass lay quiet now, ridges still glowing with the dying gold of sunset, as if nature itself were acknowledging who now commanded these lands.
Jeng Minh descended from the cliff with Bai Ye and his elite guard at his back. The battlefield was untouched by the chaos of a typical victory—no reckless pursuits, no needless slaughter. Every element of the battle had been shaped, predicted, controlled.
And now, the true work began.
The commanders of the three nearest northern towns arrived before nightfall, summoned by Jeng Minh's riders the moment the Phoenix retreat began. They entered the command tent with stiff backs and guarded expressions. These were men who had bent to Zhou Chen's rule but never fully trusted him… and certainly did not understand the mind of the man now inhabiting that body.
They expected a conqueror basking in triumph. They found instead a warlord calmly reviewing supply ledgers and fortress maps.
"Gentlemen," Jeng Minh began without looking up, "the northern pass is secure. That means trade routes, migration paths, and military movements all flow through us now. If your towns are unstable, my victory here means nothing."
The silence was brittle.
Governor Huo cleared his throat. "My lord, with respect… the Phoenix may return. Their commander is proud. We should reinforce the pass before—"
"We already have," Jeng Minh interrupted, lifting his gaze. "You simply haven't noticed."
Bai Ye unrolled a map, revealing new supply caches, stealth lookout posts, and hidden fallback lines already being established. Gasps circled the tent.
"You planned this… before the battle even began?" another governor murmured.
Jeng Minh did not answer. His silence was answer enough.
Not all northern lords welcomed his victory. Two minor warlords—Luo Shan and Gu Tiexin—sent polite but pointed messages questioning the legitimacy of his control over the pass.
Jeng Minh invited them to a "discussion."
He chose a neutral hillside overlooking the very path the Phoenix forces had used to escape. It was symbolic—subtle, but sharp. When the two warlords arrived, they were escorted past lines of disciplined northern soldiers, each formation tighter and more precise than anything Zhou Chen had fielded before.
The message was clear:
The north is no longer a land of scattered blades.
It is a single spear, unified and sharp.
Over tea, Luo Shan tested him first.
"Lord Zhou," he said carefully, "you've expanded rapidly. Some fear that… haste leads to cracks."
Jeng Minh smiled, calm and unreadable. "Cracks appear only in structures built without foresight."
Gu Tiexin frowned. "And you expect loyalty from every northern lord without question?"
"No," Jeng Minh replied simply. "I expect intelligence."
The two warlords exchanged glances. Beneath the diplomatic tone, the warning was unmistakable:
The north will remain unified—and you will not be the ones to fracture it.
By the time the meeting ended, neither dared challenge him again.
While diplomacy tightened the political knots, Bai Ye coordinated the logistical ones.
Caravans began delivering new supplies to the northern pass.
Engineers fortified the cliffside trails with layered traps Jeng Minh designed himself.
Patrols doubled, rotating in unpredictable schedules to prevent espionage.
"Commander," Bai Ye said one evening as they reviewed reports, "with each day, your influence grows. The soldiers speak of you not only as a warrior—but as one who sees the battlefield before it exists."
Jeng Minh's expression remained calm, but his eyes glimmered with something sharper than pride.
"It's not enough to win battles," he said softly. "We must win minds."
Within days, the story had spread across the north:
Zhou Chen trapped the Phoenix Army without shedding unnecessary blood.
He read the enemy like a scroll.
He knows your moves before you make them.
Rumors exaggerated, twisted, glorified—but every tale strengthened his aura.
Fear to some.
Admiration to others.
Inevitability to all.
On the final night before returning to the central fortress, Jeng Minh stood alone at the ridgeline. The pass stretched before him, silent and vast. This was no longer contested land. It was a gateway—one that belonged to him alone.
He felt the weight of the continent shifting.
The Phoenix had retreated, their pride bruised.
Northern lords submitted, their ambitions tempered.
His name was no longer confined to a single region. It traveled now—like the cold wind—swift and unstoppable.
Bai Ye approached quietly. "Commander… the north is yours."
Jeng Minh's voice was calm, steady, but edged with purpose:
"No. The north is secure.
Now we claim the future."
And with that, the next phase of his conquest began.