The Dakan Plains stretched wide beneath the morning sun, waves of green already turning brown with the march of tens of thousands of boots. Qin banners flapped in the wind, but no one in the low ranks looked at them—they were all watching the horizon, waiting for the blood to begin.
Ren stood quietly among rows of infantrymen, sword at his side, armor loose on his shoulders. He didn't speak, didn't fidget like many others did. His calm eyes scanned the empty fields ahead.
Beside him, Shin shifted restlessly, slapping his cheeks to get focused.
"This is it," Shin muttered. "Our first war."
Ren gave a small nod, his face unreadable.
Before they could say more, a gruff officer barked down the line, separating the new recruits.
"You! You're heading to the northern column," he said, pointing at Shin. "You—central push," he added, jabbing a finger at Ren.
They shared a glance.
"Guess we're splitting up already," Shin said, forcing a grin.
"Try not to get yourself killed," Ren replied softly.
"You kidding?" Shin grinned. "I'm gonna make a name for myself here."
They broke apart with nothing more than a nod. There was no time for ceremony in war.
The field exploded into chaos within the hour. Wei forces clashed violently with the Qin lines, and everything turned into mud, steel, and screaming.
Ren was pushed forward with the tide. The moment he stepped into combat, his instincts kicked in. He didn't panic. His sword moved smoothly—too smoothly for a first-timer. He ducked, cut, sidestepped, struck. Around him, young recruits died screaming, but Ren moved through the blood with eerie stillness.
Even seasoned soldiers noticed.
"That kid…"
"He's not normal…"
The praise meant nothing. The line began to bend. Wei troops had sent a heavy shock unit right into their section, and the Qin formation started to falter.
Then, thunder.
The ground shook under a sudden cavalry charge from the Wei side—unexpected, fast, and brutal. Their horses tore through the scattered Qin ranks like lightning.
Ren turned just in time. A rider was bearing down on him, spear forward.
He raised his blade, too late to fully dodge.
Someone slammed into him from the side, and both went tumbling into the dirt.
When Ren rolled to his feet, sword at the ready, the rider was gone—galloping past in a blur of hooves.
"You alive?" came a voice beside him.
Ren looked down to see a battered soldier crouched in the mud, spear in one hand and a half-broken helmet on his head.
The man stood. "You were seconds away from becoming a red smear."
Ren nodded. "Thanks."
"I'm Kai," the man said, offering his hand. "You?"
"Ren."
Kai chuckled. "You got that look, Ren. Like this isn't your first time out here."
"It is."
"...Damn."
The cavalry wheeled around again. Ren scanned the area—high ground, a rocky ridge nearby. He pointed.
"Over there. We move, now."
Kai followed without hesitation.
They reached the rocks just as the cavalry came crashing through again. A few other scattered Qin soldiers saw them and joined up instinctively, taking refuge in the narrow space where horses couldn't reach.
Ren issued short commands. Kai covered gaps with his spear. Together, they fought off scattered footmen trying to follow the cavalry's path.
They held out until the charge passed, the battle shifting toward the far end of the plain.
Afterward, as the dust settled and medics dragged off the injured, an officer took notice of their small group.
"You five still breathing?" he grunted. "Didn't think anyone held this section."
Kai nudged Ren as they sat against a rock, breathing heavy but alive.
"You're the first guy I've followed without thinking," Kai said. "Not even sure why."
Ren looked at him, then toward the smoky horizon where the battle had just passed.
"I'm not sure either," he murmured. "But it worked."
As dusk fell over the plains, Ren sat quietly with blood-dried fingers and a sword resting across his lap. He wasn't sure what came next. But he knew he'd keep surviving. And now, he wasn't alone.