The command tent of the Invincible Chancellor was bathed in the dim glow of dozens of oil lamps, their flickering flames casting restless shadows that danced across the sprawling maps spread over the central table. Outside, the winter storm howled with merciless force, icy winds lashing the canvas walls until they creaked and groaned, as though nature itself were whispering omens of the storm yet to come. Luo Wen stood in brooding silence, his tall figure rigid before the map marked with red and black symbols—fortresses, strongholds, battlegrounds—that had changed hands so many times even the most diligent scribe had lost count.
Around him, his generals waited with a tense, expectant stillness. None dared break the silence first. Weariness lined their faces, deep creases carved by months of unrelenting campaigns, yet it was on Luo Wen himself that exhaustion weighed heaviest. His furrowed brow, the darkness etched into his gaze, revealed an inner conflict rarely glimpsed by those who served him.
At last, Luo Wen's voice shattered the stillness."I have made a mistake," he said, his words heavy and sharp, the tone grinding like the edge of a sword dragged across stone. "A mistake that we have paid for in gold, in blood, and in time."
The generals exchanged uneasy glances. Their commander was not a man accustomed to admitting fault.
"The forced levies," Luo Wen continued, his voice colder than the wind outside. "I believed that by tearing peasants from their villages and hurling them into our ranks, we could preserve the strength of our veterans and prolong this endless advance. And in a sense, it worked. Our elite soldiers lived to fight battles they would otherwise never have survived. But…"—his fist came crashing down on the table, scattering metal figurines representing armies—"in doing so, I planted hatred in these lands. Hatred that Wei Lian has wielded like poison seeping through our rear lines."
Han Qiu, the grizzled veteran with a beard of iron, cleared his throat but held his tongue. It was the younger and more impetuous Meng Kai who dared to speak."Chancellor, discipline remains intact. The men still follow you with faith. The mistake of the levies can be corrected. If we set an example of strength, if we show that no village can defy the Empire, then—"
"We have already done so!" Luo Wen thundered, cutting him off. His voice rolled like a storm. "We have burned villages, executed rebels, butchered guerrillas. And yet they sprout again, like weeds after the rain. No. This mistake cannot be undone. The hatred I have awakened in this land is beyond repair."
A heavy silence fell. Not a single officer dared meet his eyes.
Then Luo Wen drew in a long breath, and when he spoke again, his tone carried not despair but steel-hard resolve."But I have learned. And what cannot be corrected with mercy must be corrected with absolute force. If this is a war of attrition, then we shall not win it by stretching out the suffering, but by crushing it beneath sheer numbers and unyielding iron."
He turned sharply to the scribe standing near the entrance, quill in hand."Draft immediate orders to the Imperial Council. I demand reinforcements from the very heart of the Empire. Every province will deliver its men. Every noble, every governor, every provincial officer will yield what they can. I care nothing for emptied reserves. I will raise this army to three hundred thousand soldiers."
The generals gasped audibly. Han Qiu's eyes narrowed, his voice hesitant."Chancellor… three hundred thousand? The Empire has been bled by countless campaigns these past years. The treasury is stretched, the economy at its breaking point—"
"Logistics is a problem to be solved later!" Luo Wen's fury erupted, his words like hammer blows. "What does it matter if convoys are attacked? What does it matter if we must burn villages to feed the host? With three hundred thousand men, Wei Lian will be drowned, surrounded, erased from the very maps themselves. His raids will become meaningless—every fortress he captures will be retaken at once by forces tenfold stronger than his."
Meng Kai bowed his head, his voice ringing with approval."Then, Chancellor, we will forge this war into something Wei Lian cannot endure—a war in which his resistance shatters against an immovable wall."
Luo Wen nodded slowly, dark satisfaction glinting in his eyes."Precisely. Wei Lian toys with attrition, but attrition is the weapon of the weak. We are not weak. From this day forward, we shall not merely burn villages—we shall annihilate their roots. Any settlement that shelters rebels will be razed to the ground. Any family that aids guerrillas will be executed without mercy. Behind us, there will be no fertile earth left for his poison to grow."
Outside, the winter winds screamed louder, as though echoing his resolve. The generals, though uneasy, recognized the terrifying transformation before them: Luo Wen was a man who not only survived failure but sharpened it into a deadlier weapon.
"I want every rear garrison reinforced with regular troops, not peasants," he continued, his voice cold as iron. "The peasants will remain in their villages, but under watch as if they were prisoners. Should they show even a flicker of rebellion, we shall burn them to ash. Let it be known—there is no mercy in this Empire."
The scribes scribbled frantically, struggling to keep pace with his words. The generals bowed their heads, fully aware that they were witnessing a brutal turning point in the war.
For a fleeting moment, Luo Wen allowed himself a softer tone, though the words carried only inward reflection."I made a mistake. But in history, mistakes mean nothing. Only victory endures. And I will have victory. Even if this land is reduced to ash, even if not a single soul remains to sing of it, Guangling will fall. And with it, the insolence of Wei Lian will be broken forever."
The silence that followed was absolute. None dared contradict him. The Invincible Chancellor had chosen his path—remorse cast aside, replaced by the relentless determination to obliterate every last spark of resistance.
The meeting ended with a single, resounding strike of his palm against the map, his finger stabbing down on Guangling, the final prize."Spread it to every camp," he commanded. "This war will not end with agreements, nor with truces, nor with attrition. It will end with the Empire's absolute and unquestionable victory."
And as the winter storm lashed the plains beyond the tent, Luo Wen's orders sped outward across the vast territories of the Empire, summoning men, provisions, and arms. Soon, three hundred thousand soldiers would march beneath his banners, and with them, the promise of a war more ruthless, more decisive, and more merciless than any that had come before.