The northern valleys were alive with movement, though from above they seemed calm. Jeng Minh studied the maps with Heiman and Bai Ye, his fingers tracing hidden passes and choke points.
"They believe they are free," Jeng Minh said quietly, "but the web is already drawn. Every retreat they attempt… every advance they dare… leads them into my hands."
Bai Ye nodded, a mixture of awe and tension in his voice. "Commander… this is more than strategy. This is art."
Jeng Minh allowed a faint smile. "Art is merely strategy disguised in beauty."
Over the previous weeks, Jeng Minh had orchestrated a subtle encirclement:
Scouts and hidden contingents were positioned on ridges and riverbanks, invisible to the Phoenix.
False supply caches and abandoned camps created the illusion of weak points, drawing enemy forces into controlled zones.
The Elite Guard moved silently through hidden valleys, cutting off escape routes and creating lines of communication for rapid redeployment.
"Tomorrow," Jeng Minh said, "they will believe opportunity lies before them… but it is only a corridor to their undoing."
The Phoenix commander was clever, but Jeng Minh's subtle psychological warfare had begun to take its toll:
Intercepted messages hinted at betrayal within their ranks, sowing distrust among officers.
Feints and staged skirmishes made the enemy overestimate Jeng Minh's strength.
Every minor setback was exaggerated, every advantage subtly amplified, feeding a growing paranoia.
"They hesitate," Bai Ye whispered, watching the northern scouts' reports. "Even with open paths, they doubt every step."
Jeng Minh's eyes glimmered. "Doubt is more deadly than any blade."
At dawn, the trap sprang to life:
Hidden contingents closed silently, cutting off the Phoenix's access to key passes and villages.
Elite Guard units struck from unexpected angles, creating panic and confusion among the enemy's forward units.
Reinforcements, previously hidden, appeared on ridges above, sealing escape routes.
The Phoenix forces, now realizing the magnitude of their miscalculation, attempted to regroup—but every maneuver was anticipated and countered.
"He thinks he can adapt," Jeng Minh murmured. "Let him. Every choice has already been charted."
By midday, the northern Phoenix forces were surrounded, trapped between cliffs, rivers, and Jeng Minh's relentless contingents. Their morale fractured, officers arguing, soldiers fleeing, and the commander's brilliance rendered impotent against the invisible architecture of strategy.
Captures were taken, supplies seized, and the surviving units forced to surrender under conditions dictated by Jeng Minh.
Bai Ye exhaled, a mixture of relief and respect. "Commander… the Phoenix… is finished."
Jeng Minh surveyed the battlefield calmly. "Finished? No… they have merely learned the cost of challenging a mind that sees beyond the battlefield."
Even as victory settled, Jeng Minh focused on securing the northern territories:
Forts were reinforced, supply lines secured, and villages pacified.
Loyal governors were appointed to maintain stability, while the Elite Guard continued to root out hidden threats.
Rumors of the Phoenix's defeat were carefully controlled, ensuring respect for his authority without inspiring overconfidence.
"Control is not a moment," Jeng Minh reminded Bai Ye. "It is a process. And today, the northern process begins."
The wind swept across the ridges, carrying whispers of retreating banners and shattered ambitions. Jeng Minh stood tall, unwavering, knowing that the north was secure—and that the next phase of his campaign would require equal precision, patience, and foresight.