Inside a still-intact stone building that the Paayasian army had previously used as their headquarters, Chinua, Haitao, Yisü, Baterdene, and Khartsaga sat gathered around a large wooden table. Maps were laid out before them as they analyzed the layout of Kark City in painstaking detail.
"This is where Leej and his remaining men are hiding," Chinua said, her finger tracing a circle around the small, heavily fortified inner keep that was built directly into the steep mountain side.
"Although we have never been to Kark City before," Baterdene noted, leaning forward over the map. "I am certain that within any inner keep of this size, there will be plenty of rations stored away for them to survive a prolonged stay."
"Captain Baterdene is correct," Yisü agreed, crossing his arms. "But that doesn't mean their supplies are entirely unlimited. According to Zhi's latest report, there are also a large number of civilians trapped inside the keep with them."
"Therefore," Hye's smooth, commanding voice rang out from the entrance, cutting through the heavy air of the war room.
He walked leisurely into the space, flanked by Azad and the rest of the unit leads.
"Just let them stay there," Hye continued indifferently as he approached the grand table and took his rightful seat right beside Chinua. "Once their food inevitably runs out, they will have no choice but to come out on their own. All Zhi has to do is station his men outside the gates and guard the exit."
"I agree with Sir Hye on this, Chinua," Khartsaga spoke up, nodding in approval. "Instead of moving in with a full-frontal assault—which we know will be incredibly difficult since Leej's men would spot us from the higher ground—let's simply surround them. We will starve them out and force them to surrender on their own terms."
"Besides," Yisü added pragmatically, "the rest of the city still needs to be cleared and secured."
"All right," Chinua said, her gaze sweeping over the captains sharing the table with her. "I will write a letter detailing our victory to His Majesty. Captain Yisü." She turned her sharp eyes toward him. "I wish for you to personally deliver this letter to the King."
Yisü offered a confident smile. "You can leave that safely to me, General."
"This is the first victory and gain of land our people have conquered in over two hundred years," Chinua continued, her voice taking on a heavy, reverent tone. "Therefore, the Hmagol map will need to be officially revised, adding this territory to our kingdom. In this letter, I will also ask that His Majesty permanently rename this place to Behrouz City, in memory of the late chief."
A sudden, sharp rush of sadness tightened in her throat, but she pressed on. "Chief Behrouz was not just the leader of the Salran Hills; he was the ultimate protector of the Hmagol border against the Payapasa Kingdom. He stood firmly on our borderline and defended Pojin until his very last breath. This is the only way to ensure his memory lives on forever."
She paused, looking at the hardened faces of her officers. "As you all well know, our kingdom is still in the painful process of healing. Because of this, His Majesty may not be able to immediately reward you all with fine silks and overflowing gold. But as soldiers, our greatest reward has never truly been found in silk or coin. Our true reward is the peaceful sleep of our parents, and the untroubled smiles of our children."
She let the weight of her words settle over the room before finishing. "One day, when our kingdom is strong and prosperous enough, I am certain His Majesty will not forget today's triumph. He will handsomely reward everyone accordingly."
Baterdene picked up his wooden bowl of warm mare's milk and hoisted it high toward Chinua. "Well said, General!" he boomed, downing the entire contents in one massive gulp. He slammed the empty bowl back onto the table with a satisfied exhale. "Well, it's time for me to go shift guard duty with Captain Dawa and the others."
"Chinua, I will set off at first light tomorrow to deliver the letter," Yisü stated, rising from his chair.
Chinua watched in silence as Haitao, Yisü, Baterdene, Khartsaga, and the remaining captains filed out of the room. The heavy wooden door clicked shut, leaving only Chinua and Hye left behind, sitting quietly at the grand table.
"So," Chinua said softly, her eyes remaining fixed on the maps before her, not yet looking at him. "Did you finally resolve it? Have you truly left your past behind?"
Hye blinked, caught off guard. "You knew?"
"Of course," Chinua said, a faint, knowing smile playing on her lips as she finally turned her head to look at him. "Nothing escapes my eyes, Hye. Especially when it comes to my own people."
Hye let out a long, heavy sigh, the pristine mask of the unbothered strategist finally slipping away. "I just... I didn't want to disappoint you," he admitted quietly. "Besides, sooner or later, Nabi needs to be allowed to reincarnate. By keeping her trapped here..." He raised his hand, pointing a trembling finger toward the left side of his chest. "...I will only continue to lock her within that horrific nightmare. I should have let her go a long time ago. Perhaps, by now, she might have already been reborn into a wealthy family, living a peaceful, happy life."
Reaching out, he picked up Chinua's discarded bowl of mare's milk and took a long sip to steady his nerves. "Someone as innocent as her... she would definitely have a better life this time around, don't you think?" He set the half-empty bowl back onto the wood.
"Yeah," Chinua agreed softly, her eyes full of profound empathy. "I am certain of it. I bet she has already been reborn as a high minister's daughter somewhere beautiful."
"I actually wish she would be born a son this time," Hye said, a melancholic chuckle escaping his lips. "Perhaps, as a man, she could choose exactly whom she wants to marry. She wouldn't have to run away from home, and she wouldn't have to face such a tragic end." He paused, his smile softening as he looked intently at the woman sitting beside him. "Or, if she must be born a daughter again... then I hope she turns out exactly like Chinua. Trading her paintbrushes for a recurve bow, and her makeup brushes for a war spear."
Chinua turned her full attention to Hye, her expression deeply earnest. "I am sure she is incredibly proud of you, Hye. Because of your mind, millions of other girls like Nabi will be saved from this war. It is time to stop blaming yourself. It is time to let Nabi drift toward the horizon with yesterday's currents."
Later that night, sitting alone inside the quarters her soldiers had carefully cleaned and prepared for her, Chinua sat at a wooden desk. By the flickering light of a single candle, she penned her letter to King Baatsaikhan, detailing every tactical victory, every casualty, and everything her heart needed to say. Once she finished, she carefully rolled the parchment up, sealed it with hot red wax, and set it aside on the table.
"Do you think His Majesty will allow you to continue waging this war against Payapasa?" Khunbish asked quietly.
He stood just behind her, holding a damp cloth, gently wiping away the dried, crusted blood that had stained the side of Chinua's neck from the day's brutal fighting.
"Whether he wishes it or not, this is a path I must walk—and he understands the reasons all too well," Chinua said, staring blankly at the flame. "It is not just that this war must happen. Before we ever marched on Ntsua-Ntu, he and I had already predicted that Es Ke would seize the opportunity to invade Pojin. But I was forced to make a choice. I had to choose which one to save, so I chose Ntsua-Ntu and allowed Pojin to take the damage. Because..."
Chinua paused, turning her head slightly to lock eyes with Khunbish. Her voice dropped to a heavy, haunting whisper.
"...if Pojin falls, Hmagol is still a kingdom. But if Ntsua-Ntu falls, Hmagol was once a kingdom."
A bitter, sorrowful smile touched her lips. "The Chief knew this. He knew that guarding Pojin meant a fifty-fifty chance he would not survive this life. By the way... you must never tell Azad or Noor of the Chief's true decision."
Khunbish's hand froze for a fraction of a second, his chest tightening. "So... he knew? He knew he was going to die?"
"Yes," Chinua replied softly, turning back to face the desk. "A long time ago, back in Lao-Da Village inside the third brother's home, we all sat together and talked about fear. Back then, my answer was simple: I told them I wasn't afraid of anything. And yet, after the horror of Hosha City and Nue-Li City, I confessed to Hye that my greatest fear was looking into the eyes of my fallen soldiers' loved ones."
She closed her eyes, the memory weighing heavily on her shoulders. "On the very day we left for Ntsua-Ntu, I was terrified to look into Behrouz's eyes. Because I knew, deep down, that it might be the absolute last time I ever saw his gaze."
"Who else knows about the Chief's sacrifice?" Khunbish asked, his voice thick with emotion as he resumed cleaning the dirt and blood from her skin.
"His Majesty, Hye, myself... and now, you," Chinua said sadly, the loneliness of command radiating from her posture. "Before we parted, the Chief told me, 'I am yesterday's dream, and you are the dream of tomorrow. Besides, I want to take my last breath exactly where I took my first.'"