The camp sprawled across the mountain valley like a wound in the earth. Four banners — crimson, iron-grey, jade-green, and black — snapped in the mountain wind, their poles driven into the rocky soil beside roaring bonfires. Tents stretched in rows, thousands of them, housing the combined forces of four orthodox sects that had marched on Mount Hua with one promise burning in their veins.
The Crimson Blade Sect. The Iron Spear Sect. The Jade Mountain Sect. The Black Phoenix Hall.
Four sects. Four leaders. One target.
The Plum Blossom Sect.
The command tent was the largest — a sprawling pavilion of black silk and iron poles, its interior lit by spirit-lanterns that cast a warm, golden glow across the maps, the wine jars, and the women. A thick carpet covered the ground, and a long wooden table dominated the center, strewn with tactical scrolls and jade markers showing troop positions along the mountain passes.
Four men stood around that table.
