At dawn, the blizzard that had ravaged southern Qingzhou for seven full days finally showed signs of easing.
Yet although the snow had stopped, the bitter cold that seemed capable of freezing the divine soul only grew more piercing. Snow lay knee-deep across the wilderness, making a teeth-grating crunch beneath every footstep.
Boom—! Boom—! Boom—!
Just as the first pale gleam of fish-belly white appeared on the horizon, three deep, resonant drumbeats suddenly thundered from the heart of the central command camp. They seemed to strike directly at the cultivators' dantians, becoming visible ripples of sound that swept through the left-route army's camp, stretching for dozens of miles.
This was the most imposing instrument in the Great Zhou Dynasty's military: the [Assembly Drum].
Once its three rounds sounded, any officer of company commander rank or higher who failed to report would be executed immediately under military law, regardless of their Aristocratic Clan background!
At the sound of the drum, the sickeningly decadent music, rich fragrance of high-grade spirit wine, and female cultivators' coquettish laughter that had lingered through the camp last night vanished, as though swept away by a biting wind.
The Great Zhou Dynasty had held the Nine Provinces in submission for thousands of years. Its iron-and-blood military laws had long since been carved into every cultivator's bones.
However extravagant and lax these Aristocratic Clan scions might have been, the moment the Assembly Drum sounded, the camp finally revealed the stern discipline and killing chill befitting a proper war machine.
Countless streaks of flight light shot skyward from lavish tents. Commanders and County Magistrates donned their full equipment and converged on the commander-in-chief's tent with grim expressions.
In Anping County's remote encampment.
Chu Bai emerged from his tent in a purple-and-gold python-patterned cloak and jade crown, his expression unchanged.