Chapter 624

Nightfall.

Like thick ink, it completely engulfed Wild Fox Ridge.

It also covered most of the shocking traces within the canyon.

Only scattered unextinguished flames flickered dimly between the charred corpses and shattered weapons.

Like a gap in Hell's gate not yet fully closed.

A cold wind swept through the valley.

It lifted ash and the stench of blood.

It also brought low, suppressed groans and occasional weeping.

That was the final struggle of those gravely wounded but not yet dead.

And the despairing soft sobs of the prisoners.

Soldiers of the Chen dynasty's border army held torches and lanterns.

They moved silently across the battlefield.

They were carrying out the most necessary, yet also most brutal, work after the war's end.

Finishing off the wounded.

Identifying the dead.

Collecting the bodies of our fallen comrades.

Escorting the prisoners in batches to the temporary camp set up inside the pass.

The air was filled with heavy gunpowder smoke, a burnt stench, and the smell of blood.

It could not be dispelled.

On Eagle View Rock.

The wind grew stronger.

Chen Wen remained standing there.

But a few more people had gathered beside him.

Shi Dun had taken off his heavy armor, wearing only the inner lining of his uniform; his face showed fatigue from the fierce battle, but his eyes were excited.

Zhang Cheng had rushed all night from Xijing, travel-worn, with a slight frown, listening to a staff officer quickly and quietly report the preliminary tallies of victory and loss.

"Preliminary count: over twenty-three thousand enemies killed in the valley, about eight thousand captured, of whom the majority are lightly or seriously wounded. Those who fled north through the pass, cut off by outer patrols or trampled in their own rout, are estimated to number several thousand."

The staff officer's voice was hoarse.

"Our side lost over two thousand seven hundred, with one thousand nine hundred seriously wounded, and many lightly wounded, though most can recover. The Iron Anvil Camp suffered the heaviest casualties, losing over three hundred veteran soldiers..."

Hearing this, Shi Dun's excitement faded; he gave a heavy snort but said nothing.

"We captured fewer than three thousand intact warhorses; most of the rest are injured or overly frightened. Arms and provisions were more than half destroyed, leaving mostly damaged goods. However... fragments of undamaged etheric crystals were found on some of the Inlaid Crystal Cavalry corpses, and have been sealed and taken away by the artisans of the Bureau of Works."

Zhang Cheng gave a slight nod.

His gaze turned to Chen Wen.

"Your Majesty, although we won this battle, the casualties are enormous. But the main force of the Northern Yuan has not been entirely annihilated in the valley. Their main camp still holds at least tens of thousands of combat-ready troops, and the elite Inlaid Crystal Cavalry and Nether Shades likely suffered losses far smaller than ordinary units. They have merely been hurt, not crippled."

"I know." Chen Wen's voice was a little hoarse.

Continuous high-intensity observation and precise Ability Granting drained him of much energy.

He pressed his fingers to his brow.

"The Northern Yuan main camp's momentum, though violently shaken when its main force was destroyed, has now steadied. Indeed, it is even more cohesive than before the battle."

He gazed toward the faint campfire glow in the northern darkness.

"That point is still there. Moreover, to my feeling... it has become more focused."

"Are they guarding against us taking advantage of victory to raid their camp?" Shi Dun asked.

"Not really." Chen Wen shook his head. "It seems more like they are... preparing for something. Or waiting for something."

He recalled what Zhao Lao Nian had mentioned: a 'secondary catalytic node' or an 'amplifier'.

What function would such a thing serve when our own main force has suffered a crushing defeat and urgently needs to replenish its strength?

To accelerate the spawning of new Inlaid Crystal Cavalry?

Or to carry out some more intense, costly ritual?

"The inner pass defenses, ballistae, and anti-cavalry mines have all been redeployed and replenished." Zhang Cheng said, "Supplies and arms are ample, morale is high. If the Northern Yuan dares to come again, we will surely make them pay dearly."

"What we want is for them to come and clash." Chen Wen said, "But not tonight. They need time to digest their defeat and reorganize. We, too, need this breather."

He paused.

"Issue the orders: reward the three armies with unlimited food and meat. For fallen officers and soldiers, give generous pensions and inscribe their names on monuments. For the wounded, spare no expense in treatment. For prisoners, keep them under strict guard, screen and interrogate them—especially those with a deep Inlaid Crystal imprint—and hand them over to the Bureau of Works and the Peace and Security Bureau to see if any useful information can be extracted."

"Yes."

Zhang Cheng assented.

He then added: 'The workshops in Xijing are operating at full capacity; a new batch of Spike Grenades and Gloomfire Glue will be ready for transport in three days. The first five thousand conscripts drafted from the various prefectures will arrive at the Northern Frontier for training within ten days.'

"Good."

Chen Wen turned his gaze to Shi Dun.

"The brothers of the Iron Anvil Camp, pull back to rest and refit. Draw elite troops from other units to replenish them, and restore combat strength as soon as possible. You, too, go get a good night's sleep."

Shi Dun opened his mouth, wanting to say he wasn't tired.

But seeing the same bloodshot eyes in Chen Wen, he swallowed his words, clasped his fists, and said, "I obey the order."

The two departed.

Only Chen Wen and two personal guards remained on the cliff top.

He once again turned his gaze northward.

But this time, he was not looking at the Northern Yuan Great Camp.

Rather, it was a direction more to the northwest.

Old Wind Pass.

Zhao Lao Nian's Cut Nest squad should have already, under the cover of the frontal battle, sneaked out from there.

Where are they now?

Have they found the coordinates of the first suspected mother nest?

He closed his eyes.

He tried to mobilize Shi Yong.

Not a wide-range scan.

But rather, following the extremely weak, barely perceptible connection between him and Zhao Lao Nian's special Star Sigil in the dark.

Moreover, before setting out, he had left on Zhao Lao Nian an extremely faint trace of his own imprint.

His perception spread.

Across the dark grassland.

Skimming over the cold wind and withered grass.

An extremely vague, intermittent sense of direction came through.

Far away.

It was moving.

But it seemed… to have encountered an obstruction.

Not the intense fluctuations of battle.

But rather a feeling like being stuck in a mire, making action sluggish and labored.

"Is this the environmental disturbance unique to the Yuneng Pollution zone?"

"Or… have we already approached the target, triggering some kind of guard or defense?"

Chen Wen did not know.

The directed transmission worm can send only one signal.

Before confirming the destruction's success, Zhao Lao Nian will not use it.

He can only wait.

Waiting for the possible rise of green smoke.

Or waiting for time to pass, with no word at all.

He withdrew his perception.

He looked inward.

On the System Interface.

That growth bar, after experiencing the catalysis of a major battle during the day, has already reached its limit.

Only the last thread remains.

Like a container already filled with water.

The water surface is level with the rim.

Only one last drop, or a slight shake, away from overflowing.

Sixty-four times the base effectiveness.

What changes will it bring?

Greater empowerment of the individual?

Longer duration?

Or… a new ability?

Chen Wen suppressed the faint anticipation and fervor in his heart.

Now is not the time.

He needs a battle with enough weight.

A battle that could let him unleash everything without reserve, and in the limits seize that breakthrough opportunity.

That opportunity may be not far in the future.

After the Northern Yuan regroups its banners and drums.

At a more critical juncture.

……

Under the same night sky.

West.

The other side of the light curtain.

False Song World.

Luo Yang.

The lights on the city walls were much denser than before.

The patrol soldiers' steps were heavier, their eyes warily gazing at the northern darkness.

There.

The direction of the Yellow River.

During the day, scattered, oddly attired and hardy scouts had appeared on the north bank, observing from afar.

Like vultures circling, waiting for the prey to die completely.

Yue Fei had not removed his armor.

He stood on the gate tower of Luoyang's north gate.

In his hand he held a secret letter, just delivered through a covert channel, its handwriting hurried.

The letter came from the Chen Dynasty.

It was written in a cipher known only to him and Chen Wen.

The contents were extremely brief.

"Bei Jing has won a great victory, annihilating tens of thousands of enemies, and holds steady for now. Focus on your situation—Yuan Feng has revealed himself; be cautious. The spark is not yet extinguished; await the moment."

Bei Jing has won a great victory.

This news eased Yue Fei's tightly furrowed brow just a little.

Chen Wen had withstood the pressure in the north, which made the burden on his shoulders seem a bit lighter.

But immediately, a deeper worry settled over his heart.

The Chen Dynasty's temporary stability meant that the balance of pressure between the two worlds had not, for the moment, tipped toward the worst outcome.

But on his own side…

He once again turned his gaze northward.

Before him lay only an impenetrable darkness.

Yet the details reported by scouts during the day, together with the last two lines of the secret letter in his hand, wove together in his mind to sketch a clear and dangerous picture.

"Yuan Feng has revealed himself."

Across the Yellow River were those fierce cavalry unlike anything seen before.

Their indifferent eyes, excellent equipment, and the extraordinary endurance and speed of their warhorses.

Moreover, the sudden intensification of collusion and coercion between the False Song court and the Jin people.

All of this pointed to a fact—the monster that Chen Wen called "Yuan," spawned by the Iron Crow Army, had bared its fangs and fixed its gaze firmly on Luoyang, on their isolated force, this "variable."

"Be cautious."

Yue Fei whispered those two words over and over.

How could he not be cautious?

The victory at Xuchang had crushed only a paper tiger of the False Song.

But what was gathering on the north bank of the Yellow River was truly a wolf capable of devouring everything.

His forces were limited, with no external reinforcements, and internal worries (the court's punitive expeditions, possible internal unrest).

The true test might come at any moment, as the ice on the Yellow River cracks.

He turned around.

To the personal troops beside him he said, his voice steady as iron:

"Pass the order to all the commanders."

"In an hour, the military governor's office will hold a council."

"Yes!"

The personal troops hurried away.

Yue Fei leaned alone on the railing.

Northward Aspiration— the night sky was black as ink.

The cold wind stirred the strands of hair on his forehead, icy and piercing.

The edges of that secret letter in his hand had become slightly creased from being gripped.

"The spark is not yet extinguished; await the moment."

These six words seemed to carry a faint warmth.

He understood Chen Wen's meaning.

He knew that perhaps a retreat existed in the future, one that was extraordinarily difficult and came at a great cost.

But before that.

He must hold this place.

He must, before this towering wave crashes down, buy enough time for the city, for the soldiers who follow him, and for that faint "spark."

Even if.

The price is blood and life.

He drew a deep breath of freezing air.

His gaze sharpened again, becoming resolute.

Just as the battle flag of Northward Aspiration snapped behind him in the night wind.