Victory in Sight, Summarizing Combat Experience

The night wind swept grains of sand over the dunes. Chen Wuya still stood where he was, his left hand clenched around a short sword, his knuckles white from the strain. He neither moved nor spoke, merely watching as the medics carried away the last stretcher, their steps slow but unceasing.

Bai Zhi came to his side and said softly, "You're still standing."

"I can still stand." His voice was hoarse, as though forced out from the depths of his throat. "As long as I don't fall now, I can finish what needs to be done."

She did not try to persuade him further, only glanced down the slope. Several Alliance Army commanders were making their way over, armored and wounded, their faces etched with exhaustion. Some leaned on their blades, some supported their comrades, their heavy steps climbing the dune.

"You really want to say this now?" one commander asked in a rasping voice. "The brothers haven't even closed their eyes. The bodies were only just counted."

Chen Wuya nodded. "Precisely because they were just counted, we remember clearly. The men we lost were not numbers. They were soldiers who stood alive at the front. How they fell, how the enemy broke through our defenses—those things blur after one night's sleep. I don't want to wait three days and tell everyone some 'heroic story.'"

Another man frowned. "But you can barely remain standing yourself. What kind of debrief can you give?"

"That's why I have to say it now." Chen Wuya raised his left hand and pointed toward the western side of the battlefield. "Look over there, where the enemy general was captured. From behind which dunes did the mechanism arrows fly? When the tripwire nets spread, how many paces did the spearmen advance? We can still walk over