The call to march had been sounding since before dawn without cease.
The military camp resembled a giant beast awakening, stretching its limbs, arching its back, and slowly advancing across the wilderness.
At the head of the beast, a massive banner soared into the sky, visible even to the soldiers at the farthest reaches.
But this time, unlike what the soldiers were accustomed to, alongside General Chu’s great black banner flew a bright yellow one.
“Something about that banner doesn’t seem right,” A Le whispered.
She was no longer an ignorant country maid; she was a palace maid who had attended the Empress’s coronation ceremony and now managed the inner court.
She had seen the imperial processions of the Emperor and Empress—
“If it doesn’t seem right, then it’s exactly as it should be,” Xie Yanlai said beside her. “Nothing is as it should be right now. It’s a miracle we managed to gather so many theater troupes and stitch together their banners.”
Banners from the opera stage? A Le chuckled. “Will it work?”
“This is the Border Commandery, a military camp. How many here have ever seen the Empress’s phoenix banner?” Xie Yanlai replied. “The banner doesn’t matter; it’s the person who counts.”
As they spoke, the sound of hoofbeats approached from behind. Armored soldiers advanced solemnly, with Ding Dachui at the forefront, his expression grave but steady. This was not his first time serving as the Empress’s guard.
“Her Majesty the Empress arrives—” Ding Dachui bellowed, his voice trained from hunting in the mountains.
The cry echoed across the wilderness. Every soldier in the formation turned to look, watching as the commander’s grand carriage slowly approached. Seated atop it was not their familiar General Chu, but a woman.
She wore robes of unparalleled splendor, her jeweled crown gleaming like a phoenix descending from the heavens, a brilliant burst of color amidst the dark military formation.
This was the Empress.
Everyone knew the Empress had come; she had often ridden through the camp on patrols. But until now, they had only ever seen Miss Chu. Only at this moment did they truly feel the presence of the Empress.
“Western Liang has taken advantage of the turmoil in our Great Xia, the passing of the late Emperor, and the youth of our new sovereign to invade our Border Commandery and harm our people,” Chu Zhao declared, her voice clear and resonant from the commander’s carriage. “As the Empress, mother to the nation, it is my duty to protect all under heaven.”
“I, Chu Zhao, have come to the front lines in the name of the Empress of Great Xia to demand justice from Western Liang. Those who invade our land shall be slain; those who harm our people shall be slain.”
“I call upon all soldiers to join me in battle, to aid me in slaying the enemy, to defend the territory of Great Xia, and to protect its people!”
In an instant, countless soldiers roared in unison, “Slay the enemy—”
Like the roar of a ferocious beast.
Xie Yanlai raised his hand. War drums thundered, and command flags waved in all directions. The beast surged forward, charging across the land.
……
……
The royal army of the King of Xiliang advanced like a tide, endless and overwhelming, surging from all directions. Like a frenzied serpent, it tore through one line after another.
This was a battle unlike any before. Directions blurred, and the formations of vanguards, scouts, cavalry, and infantry fell into disarray.
From dawn to dusk, from dusk to dawn.
As urgent reports poured in, Chu Zhao sat in the commander’s carriage, feeling lost. Beyond rallying morale, she had no skill in command.
Though the four great generals were brave and skilled in battle, a confrontation of this scale required more than individual valor—it demanded someone to harness that valor to its fullest.
She did not know how to oversee the entire battlefield, to make her commanders as agile as her own hands and eyes. Moreover, the soldiers’ morale was beginning to waver."From the Xiliang army formation came continuous shouts—'Chu Ling is dead—'" Ding Dachui reported. "Although Deputy General Xie is holding the rear defenses, there are increasing signs of collapse at the front—"
He didn't think the soldiers were lacking in courage at all. When hunting in the mountains, if people kept shouting "The prey is escaping! The prey is escaping!" he too would panic and abandon the trap—
The more intensely focused one becomes, the more susceptible they are to panic.
What should be done?
She only regretted not having learned warfare from her father.
"Garrison General Chu Ling has arrived—"
A surge of movement accompanied this announcement from behind.
Chu Zhao froze, turning back in disbelief as A Le leaped up, crying out: "It's the General! It's the General!" Her shouts dissolved into sobs.
Chu Zhao saw him too—Zhong Changrong leading a contingent of soldiers escorting a horse. Upon the tall black steed sat an armored man who was unmistakably her father.
Though much thinner, clad in his armor with long saber in hand, Chu Ling remained as steadfast as a mountain.
Father had awakened!
Heaven had opened its eyes! Heaven had shown mercy!
Chu Zhao rushed toward her father. She knew it—Providence had brought her back to make amends.
Chu Ling gazed at his daughter with a smile, nodding: "Chu Zhao, you've done well."
Though he could see nothing, he could still sense his daughter's commanding presence.
Chu Zhao hurried forward, assisting Zhong Changrong in supporting Chu Ling onto the command chariot.
As Chu Ling took his place, the war drums shifted rhythm—powerful, resonant beats signaling the commander's arrival.
Indeed, attention converged from all directions.
Leaning against the chariot with his saber across his knees, Chu Ling addressed Chu Zhao: "Since the Empress is with the army, she must still obey this commander's orders."
Chu Zhao straightened and loudly acknowledged the command.
"Requesting the Empress to serve as this commander's guard," Chu Ling declared.
Chu Zhao affirmed again before descending from the high chariot. Ding Dachui already held her horse ready. She mounted swiftly, accepting the long saber and crossbow he offered, with A Le close behind.
Glancing back, Chu Zhao saw Chu Ling first fix his gaze forward as if seeing everything clearly, then listen to his deputies' reports before issuing orders moments later.
The war drums changed cadence once more, command flags fluttering like dancing butterflies. With each order, the scattered army reformed—chaotic yet organized, like an eagle spreading its wings to strike at a writhing serpent—
Chu Zhao turned her attention forward, raising her saber as she urged her horse ahead.
A Le, Ding Dachui, and the rest of the Empress's guard (composed of former bandits) followed closely, taking position at the vanguard of the central army to protect their commander Chu Ling.
...
...
The battle raged for three days.
During this time, Chu Zhao repeatedly led troops at command into the fiercest fighting, engaging visible Xiliang soldiers with her bow.
More than killing enemies, her role was to boost morale. Soon she'd be recalled by new orders, then take up arms again to reinforce different battle formations.
When fresh sunlight bathed the land, a long horn sounded from the Xiliang lines—like the sigh of the King of Xiliang—as the Xiliang army retreated like tidewaters.
"The Xiliang army is retreating!"
Wiping grime from her face, Chu Zhao watched A Le come bounding over like a rabbit. Victory horns already echoed across the battlefield, and exhausted soldiers seemed to find boundless strength, leaping up and shouting wildly.
But Chu Zhao didn't join the celebrations. She mounted her horse and galloped toward the central formation—to bring her father the good news, though he surely already knew.Returning to the central army formation, Chu Zhao dismounted before her horse had fully steadied itself. After running a few steps, she sensed the atmosphere was off.
The drummers were beating victory rhythms, and the flag bearers waved signals for troop withdrawal and formation regrouping. Yet the soldiers here wore solemn expressions, devoid of any celebratory clamor. Some even averted their gaze when they saw her approach.
The central army formation naturally adhered to stricter discipline, Chu Zhao thought. This was nothing unusual, perfectly normal. Ignoring her surroundings, she hurried toward the commander’s chariot and immediately spotted her father seated upright in his great chair.
“Father,” she called out, stepping forward.
Chu Ling sat with a faint smile, his gaze fixed ahead, a long blade resting across his knees.
He had already passed away peacefully.
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