The Sandridge Demon General's massive body crashed to the ground.
The Demon Suppression Guards froze for a moment, then broke into subdued cheers.
They had retaken Sinking Sand Pass!
Feng Weibing did not join in their joy.
He sheathed his saber, strode over to the weathered wall, and crouched down, running a hand along its crumbling base.
A layer of fine sand clung to his fingertips. He rubbed it between his fingers, then looked up at the rolling dunes beyond the pass.
The dunes shifted slowly in the wind, like enormous beasts crawling on their bellies, inching toward the pass.
Feng Weibing's brows knitted.
"Don't celebrate yet," he said gravely. "The wind hasn't stopped."
Han Chuan was directing the Demon Suppression Guards to clear the ruined watchtowers and reoccupy the pass. At those words, he turned around.
"Deputy General Feng, what do you mean?"
"The dunes are still moving." Feng Weibing pointed beyond the pass.
"The wind hasn't truly died down. We've merely seized the pass, so that Demon General could no longer transport sand through it. The passes farther back will keep pushing sand toward Baisha Commandery."
He paused. "Whether we can hold this pass is still an open question."
Han Chuan fell silent for a moment, then looked at Yang Xiao.
Yang Xiao stood beside the wall, gazing northwest without a word.
"Deputy General Yang," Han Chuan asked, "should we rest here tonight and set out tomorrow, or keep advancing?"
Feng Weibing glanced at the sky.
"If we wait another night, the dunes may well spill over the pass."
He said no more, but everyone present understood the implication.
If they waited another night, the road would not be nearly as easy to travel as it was now.
"Where is the second pass?"
Yang Xiao answered neither Han