The Flames of War Rekindle, Embarking on the Journey Anew

The night wind brushed over the dunes. A thin crack split the blood scab on Chen Wuya's palm, and golden patterns flickered faintly beneath his skin. He slowly clenched his fist, his knuckles giving a soft crack, as though something slumbering had been awakened.

Bai Zhi stood at his side, her gaze sweeping over the distant, unbroken lights of the enemy camps. Those scattered points of light had not gone out, like the unclosed eyes of beasts.

"They're still waiting," she said softly.

"Waiting for what?" Chen Wuya asked. His voice was not loud, yet the nearby generals instinctively pricked up their ears.

"Waiting for us to let down our guard." Zhou Yuanlang stepped forward half a pace, his iron armor scraping crisply. "Last night, our army won a great victory, but the enemy's main force was not completely wiped out. Their remnants retreated without dispersing. They must have something up their sleeve."

Chen Wuya did not answer. He merely raised his left hand and made a grasping motion toward a fallen flagpole three zhang away. Ash-gold force spilled from his palm, winding around the pole like threads. With a gentle lift—the flagpole slowly rose, plunging diagonally into the sand and standing firm.

Everyone held their breath.

He lowered his hand and said blandly, "Force can wind, and so can paths. A frontal assault is just following their train of thought. I want to take another direction."

"You're going to pull some crooked trick again?" Zhou Yuanlang frowned deeply. "A surprise attack is no child's play. If you suffer losses on the way, who will hold the line at the front?"

"I was never someone on the proper path." Chen Wuya smiled, a dimple appearing in his left cheek. "The day the academy drove me out, my teacher said, 'He