The northern ridges were restless. Reports filtered in: the Phoenix remnants, bruised but unbroken, had begun regrouping in hidden valleys. Smaller warlords, emboldened by rumors of the West's turmoil, tested patrols along supply lines.
Jeng Minh stood in the fortress command hall, reviewing the intelligence. His calm demeanor betrayed nothing, but his mind worked like a finely tuned instrument.
"They believe we are overextended," Bai Ye said, frowning. "They may strike before we are fully prepared."
Jeng Minh's gaze was sharp. "Let them strike. Every move they make reveals their priorities, their strengths… their weaknesses."
The first sign of action came from northern scouts: a small Phoenix detachment had raided a supply caravan, retreating before reinforcements could arrive. The strike was precise, coordinated, but not devastating.
"Observation," Jeng Minh said. "Not panic. They are testing us, probing for weaknesses."
Heiman, ever practical, added, "Commander… they may attempt a larger attack if ignored. Waiting could be dangerous."
Jeng Minh nodded. "Then we prepare… and we turn their strength into vulnerability."
The northern territories were reinforced, but not in a conventional manner:
Supply routes were doubled and hidden in less obvious paths, ensuring that disruption would have minimal effect.
Frontier forts were subtly rearmed, with contingents placed where they could strike the enemy unexpectedly rather than hold static lines.
Scouts and Elite Guard units moved like ghosts, reporting every movement, planting false trails, and creating the illusion of overwhelming force.
"Let them see us as a mountain," Jeng Minh said. "Immovable… but sharp enough to cut."
Understanding the Phoenix commander's temperament, Jeng Minh played a subtle game of mind.
Rumors of betrayals among minor Phoenix officers were circulated, causing internal distrust.
False reports of overwhelming reinforcements were leaked through agents and captured messages.
Skirmishes were carefully staged to exaggerate the enemy's perception of Jeng Minh's intelligence network.
Bai Ye watched the reports pile up. "Commander… they hesitate, even when we do nothing. Your presence alone bends them."
Jeng Minh allowed a faint smile. "The mind fears what it cannot predict. Let them doubt themselves… and victory becomes inevitable."
While managing the northern response, Jeng Minh also reviewed the loyalty of local governors and minor warlords. Any hesitation or second-guessing would be addressed swiftly, blending diplomacy and intimidation.
Governors were summoned for counsel, given responsibility over fortifications, and subtly reminded that failure would not be tolerated.
Elite Guard units conducted silent inspections, rewarding diligence and rooting out weakness.
"Order is maintained not only by fear," Jeng Minh explained, "but by clarity. Each man knows his role… and the consequences of stepping beyond it."
As the sun set over the northern ridges, the Phoenix remnants paused, wary. Their movements became tentative, their scouts hesitant, and their attacks sporadic.
Jeng Minh, standing atop a cliff overlooking the valley, spoke quietly to Bai Ye. "They test us… but they already walk where we can see every step. Soon, they will discover that each move they make is orchestrated… against themselves."
The wind whispered through the ridges, carrying a faint echo of distant drums. The northern response had begun—but in Jeng Minh's hands, it was no longer a threat. It was an instrument.