The first clash ended with the beasts' retreat, but Northwatch Stronghold did not relax.
The gates remained sealed. The walls stayed fully manned. No victory horns sounded, and no cheers were raised. Everyone stationed at the Northern Border understood a truth carved into bone and blood: when the beasts withdrew, it was never because they were defeated. It was because they were waiting.
As the echoes of battle faded into the frozen plains, the stronghold shifted seamlessly into its next phase.
Recovery.
The fallen were retrieved first.
Soldiers moved in pairs, dragging bodies back through blood-soaked snow and shattered ice. No corpse was left behind, no matter how torn or frozen. Even those crushed beneath fallen beasts were hauled free. The living worked in silence, breath fogging the air, hands steady despite exhaustion and grief.
By nightfall, the central courtyard of the stronghold was filled.
Rows of fallen soldiers lay side by side, armour still worn, weapons laid across their chests. Torches ringed the courtyard, casting long, wavering shadows against stone walls scarred by wars long past. Hundreds of soldiers stood in formation around the fallen, their faces hard, eyes forward.
At the front, the deputy commander stepped out.
His armour was battered. One pauldron was split by a deep gouge where a beast's claw had nearly torn through. Dried blood darkened the seams of his gauntlets. Yet his posture remained straight, unyielding, untouched by fatigue.
In his hand burned a long iron torch.
The murmurs of the stronghold faded. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
The deputy commander walked slowly along the line of the fallen, his gaze lingering on each face as if carving their features into memory. When he reached the first prepared pyre, he stopped. The flame at the end of his torch burned steadily, sustained by formation arrays set beneath the stone.
Without ceremony, he lowered the torch.
Fire surged upward at once.
The pyre ignited with a deep roar, flames consuming armour and flesh together. Heat rolled across the courtyard, reflected in the eyes of every soldier standing in formation. One pyre was lit after another, until the entire courtyard burned with controlled fury, pillars of flame rising into the night.
When the fire had reduced everything to ash, one of the commanders raised his fist.
Hundreds followed.
The shout that answered rolled across Northwatch Stronghold like a living force.
"Farewell!"
"Give us strength as we continue to guard our home!"
The voices were rough and strained, yet unified. It was not a cry of sorrow, but a vow spoken aloud, binding the living to the dead.
Attendants stepped forward and gathered the ashes into heavy iron urns. The commander was the first to ascend the battlements, carrying one himself. At his signal, the urns were opened, and the ashes were released to the wind.
They drifted across the walls, into the seams of stone and steel, settling where blood had once soaked into the earth.
The fallen would remain guarding the North forever.
When the last ash vanished into the night, the commander turned back toward the formation.
"Northwatch stands," he said. "Because they stood."
Fists struck armour in unison, the sound sharp and final, echoing across stone and steel.
The ritual ended.
Chu Feng sat near the Eastern Wall. He swallowed another healing pill and entered meditation, shutting out the noise around him.
Pain throbbed through his ribs and arm, but as he circulated qi through his body, he reviewed every movement he had made during the previous clash.
His sword had remained steady.
But his runes—
They had changed.
He had instinctively layered defensive runes, stacked compression seals without hesitation, and triggered small formations mid-motion. He had not yet mastered them, but under real pressure, where hesitation meant death, he had used them effectively. That mattered.
By dawn, his breathing had steadied.
On the sixth day, the warning horn sounded again. Short. Sharp.
This time, there was no uncertainty. The beasts were coming.
Chu Feng was already moving as the war drum thundered across the stronghold. Soldiers rushed to their assigned positions, armour clattering, weapons raised. Formation arrays flared to life along the walls, vibrating through the crisp air.
The Frozen Plains churned. Shapes emerged through the snow—more numerous than before, moving in layered formations. Smaller beasts surged ahead, larger ones advanced behind like moving fortresses.
The second clash began.
The defensive barrier flared brilliantly as the first wave slammed into it, cracks rippling across its surface.
Chu Feng stood at the reinforced breach, sword drawn.
The barrier shattered, and the beasts poured through.
He moved instantly. Sword Technique: Severing Chaos!
A wide arc of sword qi sliced through the first charging Ravager, dropping it in a spray of blood. He stepped forward, planting his feet as another beast lunged.
Rune Technique: Binding Lattice!
Glowing symbols snapped into place, halting the creature for a fraction of a second—just long enough for Chu Feng to drive his sword through its skull.
A Burrower erupted from beneath him.
He twisted aside, pain flaring through his shoulder, and slammed his palm downward.
Formation Trigger: Tri-Anchor Suppression Seal!
Three runic points flared, crushing the beast's momentum and holding it long enough for a spearman to finish it.
Around him, cosmic souls ignited.
A soldier wielded a Stone Rhino cosmic soul, charging forward with a body reinforced like solid rock, holding the line through sheer mass. Another unleashed a Thunder Hawk, lightning spears tearing through the beasts. A third manifested a Flame Tiger, fists blazing as it shredded the front ranks.
Chu Feng pressed forward through the chaos, his sword and runes moving as one.
A claw slashed into his side.
He staggered, pain lancing through him—but he did not retreat.
Blood seeped into the snow as he gritted his teeth and raised his blade again.
Sword Technique: Crosswind Reversal!
The beast collapsed in a spray of blood, but the pressure only grew heavier.
From the rear of the beast formation came a massive presence, its roar deeper, more violent, shaking the frozen ground with each step.
Squad leaders atop the walls froze. Commanders in the tent spun toward the formation mirrors, eyes widening at the approaching threat.