On the way back, dusk gradually deepened. The wind sweeping across the wilderness carried a trace of chill, and the grass and trees swayed in it as though whispering some uneasy omen. Ang rode forward in silence. Slok, behind him, glanced at him and finally could not help asking:
"My lord, will the Northern Barbarians continue to remain at peace with us?"
Ang tilted his head slightly and looked toward the Northern Barbarian tribe gradually disappearing among the mountains. His expression was grave as he asked evenly:
"What do you think?"
Slok pondered for a moment before cautiously saying, "Based on our usual trading schedule, this should be when they are most desperately short of supplies. Yet today, their attitude was tougher than before... Perhaps..."
"Perhaps they have found a new source of supplies, or perhaps they no longer intend to rely on trade to survive." Ang took over, a trace of coldness in his voice.
After a moment of silence, he continued, "Once we return, have the brothers make preparations. With Beast Mouth Fortress in our hands, the Northern Barbarians will not be able to break through easily as long as we hold it."
"Understood, my lord." Slok nodded solemnly, his expression grave.
No one spoke for the rest of the journey. The group passed through the mountains and forests, crossed the hills, and finally returned to Beast Mouth Fortress before nightfall. From afar, the fortress still stood between the canyon walls. Firelight illuminated its heavy ramparts, patrolling soldiers marched in orderly ranks, and warriors moved back and forth atop the battlements. Everything appeared well organized, yet Ang faintly sensed something unusual.
Not long after entering the fortress, a woman hurried toward them. She wore a dark cloak, moved with crisp efficiency, and had sharp eyes. It was Quintina.