The wind had teeth, and the stench it was bringing to General Sun's men was enough to make even the most veteran amongst them sick to their stomach.
It howled across the open plain, carrying the scent of iron and ash toward the incoming army. Crows circled high above, black dots against the afternoon sky, their cries swallowed by the relentless drum of hooves striking hardened dirt. General Sun Baotai narrowed his eyes as the southern ridgeline dipped low, finally revealing the valley below.
While he had already seen a brief glimpse from a distance, it didn't prepare him for what it was like up close. He had expected smoke. Screams. Blood. What he got was silence.
The Red Demon camp stood in eerie stillness, its banners fluttering lazily in the wind. Tents were pitched with military precision. Soldiers moved with quiet efficiency, tending fires, sharpening blades, speaking in low murmurs.
