[Western Yan, Before Azure Dragon Stockade]
Crimson Nine and Chu Yuning had survived the "Forest of Arrows." As the smoke cleared, Yuning did not sheathe his sword. Instead, he stared coldly at the pale-faced Deputy Master, Green Snake.
"The first trial is over," Yuning said, walking toward him step by step. "Now, let's settle the debt of your betrayal."
"What... what do you think you're doing? I am the Fourth Prince's man! If you kill me, the Thirty-Seven Stockades are finished!" Green Snake shrieked, stumbling backward.
Lei Wanjun and the other veterans watched in silence. Yuning's performance in the first trial had already earned the respect of half these "wolves."
"The Fourth Prince's man?" Crimson Nine sneered from the side. Her compound bow was drawn to full mast, her sights locked onto Green Snake's throat. "In Chu family territory, mentioning another master is a capital offense."
TWANG!
Crimson Nine didn't release her string; instead, Yuning moved like lightning, his blade flashing across the air. A spray of crimson erupted from Green Snake's throat. He collapsed at the gate, eyes wide with lingering terror.
"Uncle Lei," Yuning turned, raising the wooden tablet high above his head. "The traitor is dead. The bones of the Thirty-Seven Stockades can break, but they must not rot! Whatever the next two trials are—I accept!"
Lei Wanjun burst into a thunderous laugh, a single tear escaping his one eye. "Good! Spoken like a true Chu! The second trial tests neither agility nor strength. It tests whether you recognize the souls of these three thousand brothers!"
He stepped aside to reveal the training grounds. Standing there in the swirling sand were rows upon rows of men in tattered armor, their eyes fierce as trapped beasts.
"Every one of them carries scars earned for the Chu family. Third Young General, if you can name just one hundred of them and recite their deeds, I, Lei Wanjun, will hand you this stockade with both hands!"
Three thousand veterans stood like a wall of iron. Some were missing fingers, some were scarred beyond recognition. Every gaze was a silent interrogation.
"Proceed, Third Young General," Lei Wanjun challenged.
Yuning's eyes grew hot. He didn't stay on the platform; he walked down, approaching a one-armed veteran in the front row.
"Soldier Zhang Dashan. Enlisted five years ago. In the Northern Battle, you charged the enemy lines alone to protect the retreat of your commander. Your left arm was severed by heavy infantry; the General himself bound your wounds."
Zhang Dashan gasped, his entire body trembling.
Yuning moved to the next man. "Corporal Chen Liu. Home: the banks of the Weishui River. Three years ago, to cut the East's supply lines, you led a squad into enemy territory and burned their camps. That burn scar on your lower back? You got it while saving a brother."
With every step, Yuning called a name. Deceased honors and forgotten sacrifices were rekindled one by one.
Crimson Nine watched from the rear, her voice low. "Third Brother memorized every military record and battle report into his very marrow. He doesn't love power; he truly views these men as family."
Even Xiao Zhan was moved. He had thought the stockades were a den of bandits, only to realize they were a sanctuary for forgotten heroes.
When Yuning reached the ninety-first name, the field was filled with the sound of stifled sobbing.
"Enough! Say no more!" Lei Wanjun suddenly dropped to one knee, letting out an earth-shattering roar: "Subordinate Lei Wanjun greets the Third Young General!"
"GREETINGS, THIRD YOUNG GENERAL!"
Three thousand men knelt in unison, the sound of their armor striking the ground echoing through the valley like thunder.
[The Fall of the Ghost Riders]
Suddenly, the corpse of Green Snake began to emit a strange green smoke.
"Look out! It's toxic!" Blue Five screamed, quickly tossing improvised filtration masks to the group. "That's a signal! Murong Xiao's backup is here!"
Lei Wanjun snapped upright. "The third trial is here! It's not from us—it's from the Heavens! Murong Xiao has ambushed the 'Ghost Riders' in Eagle-Fall Valley. They are Western Yan's most merciless heavy cavalry. If they break through, Azure Dragon Stockade will be reduced to ash!"
"Ghost Riders?" Xiao Zhan's eyes turned cold. "Murong Xiao's trump card. Only five hundred men, but capable of slaughtering a city of ten thousand."
Yuning looked at the three thousand veterans. Most were injured; a frontal assault against heavy cavalry was suicide.
"Third Brother, leave this to me." Crimson Nine stepped forward, her finger tapping her bracer. "Blue Five, bring out all your 'surprises.' Xiao Zhan, I need your personal guards to assist in my trap formation."
"What are you planning?" Yuning asked.
"I'm going to show Murong Xiao a 'Dimensional Strike' in Eagle-Fall Valley," Crimson Nine smirked with a wild edge.
The Ghost Riders thundered into the valley, expecting chaos. Instead, they were met with a deathly silence.
"Kill them all! Leave none alive!" the leader roared from behind his iron mask.
BOOM—!!
The first explosion didn't come from an enemy; it came from the earth beneath them. Blue Five's "Landmines"—a precise mix of phosphorus and saltpeter—erupted, flipping the heavy warhorses into the air.
Atop the cliffs, Crimson Nine and Blue Five stood side-by-side. Crimson Nine had nocked specialized incendiary arrows.
"Blue Five, light 'em up."
"Copy that!" Blue Five poured a mixture of refined alcohol and rock oil down the rock faces. Crimson Nine released three arrows at once. The narrow valley floor transformed into a hellscape of fire.
"What sorcery is this?!" the soldiers screamed. The fire clung to their armor like leeches, burning hotter even when covered in sand. To them, the two women atop the cliff were no longer mere mortals—they were the Reapers of the Red Lotus Fire.
[The Birth of the Nine Stockades]
Inside the main hall, the oil lamps flickered.
Yuning looked at the marked map. "Uncle Lei, spread the word. As of today, the Thirty-Seven Stockades no longer exist. There are only the 'Zhanchuan Nine Stockades'."
"You wish to consolidate our forces?" Lei Wanjun asked.
"No, we wish to hide them better," Crimson Nine said, tracing the map. "Thirty-seven locations are too scattered and easily picked off. We merge neighboring camps and call them 'Mutual-Aid Refugee Camps.' The Emperor wants obedient refugees, not a rival army."
"Nine stockades at nine strategic chokepoints," Xiao Zhan added. "Even if the court grows suspicious, we say they are just peasants banding together for survival. No flags, no titles. The Emperor will leave this thorn alone for the sake of border stability."
"The Nine Stockades of Zhanchuan. The Chu Command returns." Yuning handed the wooden tablet to Lei Wanjun. "Uncle Lei, you are the head of the Nine. I, the Prince, and Zhaoning must leave for Southern Tang. These nine camps are the final sparks of the Chu Army's soul. Guard them well!"
"I will guard them with my life!" Lei Wanjun knelt, his voice iron-firm.