They left before dawn.
The gates opened with little sound, iron shifting aside as the first lines passed through. Torches burned low along the walls, their light weak against the morning gray. Once beyond the fortress, the road stretched out and the ranks settled into formation.
Liang Wei marched near the front of her assigned group. Not leading, not trailing. Where she could see ahead and still feel the movement behind her. The spear rested easily in her hands, its weight familiar enough that she did not have to think about it. Each step fell into rhythm with the next. The stone gave way to packed earth and the fortress shrank behind them without anyone looking back.
No one spoke much once the road stretched out.
At first, there had been murmurs. Quiet complaints about armor rubbing. About boots that had not been broken in properly. About how long the march might last. Those faded as the morning wore on. Breath and footfall replaced talk. The line adjusted.
Liang Wei listened anyway. She listened for changes in pace, for the uneven drag of exhaustion, for the subtle tension that crept into men who had not yet learned how to wait for violence without inviting it. When someone stumbled, she slowed just enough for the line to adjust. When spacing grew careless, she corrected it with a glance or a brief word. Nothing more.
Temporary command felt no different. It did not sit on her shoulders. It stayed in her hands.
By midmorning, the land began to change. The road narrowed, winding between low hills and scrub. Rocks jutted close enough to force the line tighter. Sightlines shortened. Conversations died completely.
They stopped briefly near a dry streambed to drink and check straps. Liang Wei crouched instead of sitting, spear laid across her knees. The men near her followed suit without being told. Someone offered a strip of dried meat. She took it, nodded once, and ate in silence.
Across the line, a soldier laughed too suddenly, too loud. It cut off just as fast. No one acknowledged it. When they moved again, the pace slowed. Just enough to conserve breath.
As the sun climbed higher, heat pressed down in a dull, unrelenting way. Sweat crept under armor. The road dusted their boots and clung to hems and hands. Liang Wei adjusted her grip. The spear's shaft had warmed beneath her palms.
She did not think of the sword. That thought came later, uninvited. She pushed it aside and focused on the road ahead. On the rise just beyond the bend and the way the hills funneled sound.
They moved like that for hours. By late afternoon, they reached the forward encampment. Not a fortress. Not even a village. Just cleared ground, tents staked tight, supply wagons drawn into defensive arcs. The smell of old smoke lingered in the air. Someone else had been waiting here longer than they had.
Orders were given quickly. Units assigned. Watch rotations posted. Liang Wei's group was directed toward the outer edge, where the land dropped away into uneven ground. She memorized the shape of it at a glance.
As the men settled in, she remained standing a moment longer, spear planted lightly against the earth. She scanned the horizon, the line of hills darkening as the light shifted.
War still hadn't arrived. That was the most dangerous part.