[Chapter Size: 3400 Words.]

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Thrid Person POV

Yi-Ti, 296 AC.

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To the north of Yin, a horse continued galloping along the narrow roads as its rider spent the next few days traveling eastward, until finally spotting the area he sought: a mountain range dividing the country’s eastern provinces from the central and western provinces of the empire.

As he approached the mountains, he followed the slope between two peaks, where a narrow trail could be found, just wide enough for a man and his horse to pass. Despite being manageable, the path held its own dangers.

It was along this trail that the man, holding the letter taken from a pigeon he had shot down, encountered a group of Basilisks devouring a large bear in the middle of the forest road. He managed to skirt around them while they remained more focused on their meal than the man on horseback. Even so, they growled at him as he fled as quickly as he could.

The man took three days to navigate around them, sleeping wherever he could find shelter. Many men like him did not survive such missions, but still, it was his duty, and he had to succeed—or die trying.

In the end, he prevailed, finally reaching an open area on the other side—a deforested and scorched expanse used to host thousands of tents. It was the Mongol army, established in this part of Yi-Ti, though unable to cross the mountains as the man had, since the roads were impassable for such a force, and Basilisks could swarm in the hundreds if their territory was threatened.

The man spoke a few words in his native tongue and advanced toward the camp as sentinels began appearing in the area. They let him pass with a nod, acknowledging the brooch he wore, a symbol of his role in the army’s intelligence division.

He continued riding until reaching the camp’s central area, where the command tents were located, heading for one bearing the same insignia as his brooch. He dismounted and approached the tent, shouting something in his language as he entered.

A man, responsible for the Mongol army’s intelligence and superior to the one entering, looked up upon hearing the commotion. The spy from the central province hurried in, holding a letter, exclaiming that it was urgent in the Mongol language.

The intelligence leader quickly approached. The messenger, crouching respectfully, handed over the letter.

“I retrieved it in the central province after intercepting a carrier pigeon flying to the capital,” explained the man, while the intelligence leader said nothing. He simply took the letter, opened it, and read. His eyes widened slightly as he absorbed its contents.

He looked at the man and understood the urgency. “Good work. You will be rewarded for this.” That was all he said, without even dismissing the man. Instead, he hurried out of the tent, brushing past the spy, and made his way to the main command tent, where the army’s leadership was situated.

There, he found the army’s supervisor, responsible for organizing troops and directing them to the front lines as they prepared to march north.

The intelligence leader entered without issue, handed over the letter, and explained the situation. The supervisor, too, was surprised by the information, but he was not the invasion’s commander. His role was to lead the army to the front lines and secure more provinces; above him was a superior officer in Yi-Ti—the one commanding the invasion.

The supervisor quickly began issuing orders. He assigned a trusted messenger to deliver the letter to his superior, as only he could decide on the next course of action.

The messenger was summoned immediately and set off eastward, despite ongoing uprisings in the region. Due to the message’s importance, the messenger was accompanied by a guard of 20 men. It took several days, with some resistance along the way, but they finally reached Kaneda Castle, which served as the invasion’s main base of operations since it had been seized in the province.

Inside the spacious and luxurious room, once used for noble samurai dinners—since no one owned this castle; it was only used when needed and now taken over by the Mongols—a man sat at the head of a long table, eating and drinking calmly. He was a large man with a naturally fierce gaze, looking at those present with a mix of amusement and threat.

In the room, surrounded by guards, were two men under their watch, who were clearly prisoners. They sat at the table with empty plates in their hands, keeping their eyes downcast, trying not to show discomfort as the man at the head ate. But he quickly broke into a slight smile, looking at them.

“Why aren’t you eating? Surely you must be tired of that cold cell and that horrible food. This is your chance to eat something decent and drink.” He spoke in a voice with an ironic tone, closer to mockery than a genuine invitation.

Neither of the two prisoners responded. They were in the presence of Khotun Khan, the commander of the invasion. Khotun Khan is described as a cousin and a trusted general of the Great Khan, the supreme leader of the Mongol Empire.

The prisoners were also prominent figures. One was Lord Shimura, samurai leader of the eastern province where they were. The other was none other than the heir prince of the Yi-Ti empire, Kozuki Momonosuke. Both had been captured. Shimura had been taken prisoner when his territory was seized. Momonosuke had led a force directly from the capital to try to reclaim the territory, but his troop was intercepted due to a lack of precise information about the number of invaders.

Khotun Khan looked at them again, seeing that neither of them spoke, and his smile widened even more, wanting to provoke his guests. “Come on, you can do better than that. Won’t you even open your mouths to talk to me?”

“…” The prisoners remained silent, seeming firm in their determination not to yield to the enemy.

Khotun Khan gave a dry laugh. “Is this how the people of Yi-Ti are? So rude?” He continued to provoke, while the prisoners raised their faces and finally looked at him, without showing any immediate reaction, but the young prince was the first to speak.

“You invade our lands, kill our men, steal our women and our food, and you call us rude?” The young man couldn’t contain himself and spat the words with anger.

“He is not someone you should waste your breath on, Prince Momonosuke,” said Shimura in a severe but controlled tone.

“Hahaha.” Khotun Khan began to laugh at that moment. “You don’t need to be so agitated. I’m just trying to learn more about you. Can’t I want to know more about your people?” He provoked, while Shimura stared at him with a stern look.

“Do you really want us to believe those words? Spare us your games! You do not have my respect. Besides being an invader, you fight without honor. It’s obvious you’re trying to buy us,” retorted Shimura with a tone as severe as his gaze.

“We don’t need that. We just want your leader to kneel, just like you. After all, it’s only a matter of time before we conquer all of Yi-Ti,” Khotun replied calmly.

“Never! Those words are an insult, you scoundrel! This is not your land!” shouted the young prince, exploding with rage and ignoring Lord Shimura’s counsel. He stood up from the table with a brusque movement as if about to lunge at the man mocking him, but was quickly pushed down by the guards behind him. They subdued him with brutality, forcing him back into the chair as spear shafts struck his back and shoulder to ensure he remained immobile.

“!” The prince of Yi-Ti had to groan a bit due to the pain caused, as he returned to the chair.

“Do not speak like that, prince,” said Khotun, his smile widening at the young man’s outburst of rage. “I am trying to save more of your people’s lives. After all, as the war expands, more of the Yi-Ti Empire’s people will die. Our conquest is inevitable. We are subjugating you without even advancing into the central and western regions. Yi-Ti will already suffer because we have seized the harvests here, which supplied half the empire’s food. We are also dominating the seas with the help of pirates who have become our allies. It is only a matter of time before Yi-Ti begins to suffer, and your own people cry out for surrender…” His tone grew darker and more authoritative as he locked eyes with the prince.

“That won’t happen,” murmured the young man softly, unwilling to hear these words.

“Well, you already know the terms,” Khotun continued. “We can end this quickly. My lord, the Great Khan, demands that you kneel and become part of the empire. In addition, bring your sister, Princess Hiyori, to join his harem as a concubine. We cannot be more generous than that. Otherwise, we will start the war across the entire country and witness even more of your people’s corpses. Perhaps we will even hand over the management of these lands to those who betrayed you.” He smirked maliciously.

Shimura tried to restrain the young prince, who growled in anger, particularly at the last statement. Momonosuke now understood that there was a traitor among his father’s men but did not know who was responsible for this betrayal. That betrayal was why they had been intercepted and he had been captured—someone had leaked his movements and route.

“What do you think of this, Lord Shimura? Don’t you believe saving your people is more important than holding onto your pride?” Khotun turned his gaze to the elderly samurai, looking directly at him.

“Do you think you can step onto these lands and assume you can rule them easily? No matter how much the people bleed, we samurai will fight and protect our land! And the people of Yi-Ti will not yield,” Shimura said calmly, his tone wise and unflinching as he met Khotun’s eyes without hesitation.

There was a moment of silence after the response, but Khotun did not reply. Instead, he merely smiled at Shimura, as if dismissing his words as fantasies. He then resumed eating, showing no further concern for his stubborn guests, who refused to touch the food before them.

Two minutes later, the door suddenly burst open. Khotun frowned, visibly displeased. “What is this?” he asked irritably.

One of the men overseeing the castle entered quickly and approached with a serious expression, moving cautiously. “Lord Khan, this has arrived from a messenger at the front lines,” the man reported, handing over a letter.

Khotun took the message, intrigued, examining it briefly before opening it. As he began to read, his expression grew increasingly grim.

“What is this?” he finally murmured to himself in disbelief.

The letter detailed the arrival of a strange group off the southern coast of the Sea of Yin, with an enormous fleet of 450 ships. They were requesting to negotiate food with the empire. Moreover, it noted that the group consisted of over 22,000 armed men from the western lands, known as the Lands of the Setting Sun. There were even reports of giants—men over four meters tall in full armor—something Khotun found hard to believe.

Khotun furrowed his brow for a moment in front of his guests, while the man who delivered the letter stepped back to the door to await further orders.

Khotun was processing the information. ‘Who were these people? And what were they doing here, at such a critical moment in his invasion, offering something he was trying to deprive Yi-Ti of? Could they really be just merchants?’ These questions rapidly raced through his mind as he tried to make sense of the situation.

“Tell me something,” he finally said, rising to his feet and staring at the two prisoners at the table. His eyes were fixed on the young prince and the older samurai. “Do you know of a group called the Articans of Artica?”

Both prisoners exchanged glances for a moment, their expressions filled with doubt upon hearing that name. For Khotun, they didn’t need to say anything—the silence was enough of a response, as they wouldn’t have spoken regardless.

“I see.” Khotun sighed and gestured to the guards. “Take the prisoners back to their cells,” he ordered.

The guards immediately began removing the two from the table, pushing them along as they went, still puzzled by the sudden change of events. The dark, cold cells awaited them once again, along with the usual meager food that paled in comparison to what had been in front of them moments earlier.

Khotun Khan, for his part, left his meal unfinished and quickly headed to the room where he organized his strategies. He asked to be left alone for the time being, placed the letter on the table, and began reflecting on it.

He pondered how he should handle this information. Twenty-two thousand men and 450 ships carrying food were too significant to ignore. Yet, he wasn’t even sure if the group truly existed. At the same time, he doubted it was a trap orchestrated by Lord Kin’emon, as samurai did not operate in such a manner—despite the absurd claims about giants in the letter.

He was concerned because 22,000 men could make a significant difference. Yi-Ti, comparable in size to one of the Seven Kingdoms—such as the Reach, Dorne, Riverlands, or the Vale of Arryn—had a total army of 40,000 men with a few hundred samurai. The Mongols had 80,000 men and controlled the province. They had already eliminated 10,000 Yi-Ti soldiers, losing only 5,000 of their own. These 22,000 Articans would greatly bolster Yi-Ti’s defense as the Mongols attempted to advance westward.

“I can’t let this happen. This trade will seriously disrupt our invasion, and I cannot allow these people to ally with the Emperor of Yi-Ti,” Khotun murmured to himself. He didn’t even know if such a group existed, but he already accepted their reality and began planning to deal with them.

With that, he summoned a trusted subordinate, who approached immediately. Khotun began writing instructions on a piece of paper and handed it to the man. “Take these orders to one of the commanders in the south. Waste no time,” he commanded.

The man nodded and left immediately, delivering the message to a messenger stationed at the castle. The messenger departed on horseback with a substantial escort, traveling along roads devastated by the Mongol forces. Along the way, villages lay in ruins, and starving people turned into beggars.

Meanwhile, in the central region of the country, another messenger bearing the symbol of Lord Kin’emon’s house was making his way into the capital after traveling for a week from the south. He entered the capital gates, where guards recognized the house symbol and allowed him through after verifying the urgency of his message.

The messenger navigated the bustling streets of Yin, which bore a more somber atmosphere, deeply affected by the war. It was evident that the empire’s central city was suffering under the conflict’s weight.

He made his way through the streets until finally reaching the capital’s imposing castle, far larger than Lord Kin’emon’s. At the gate, the messenger was stopped by the guards. He quickly produced a sealed letter, asserting that it was an urgent message. After inspecting the seal, the guards allowed him entry and alerted the castle’s administration to notify the Emperor—or his daughter, who had lately been handling many of the empire’s affairs.

The Emperor had just finished another exhausting meeting, where no one could devise a solution to rescue his son. He was heading to his study when he found his daughter, Hiyori, organizing the numerous letters that arrived daily. She was sorting through the correspondence, determining what was important and what was not, as the Emperor received messages from all over the empire and had no time to address them all. Additionally, Hiyori was eager for news of her brother, as was her father.

However, he noticed something unusual in the room—his daughter wore an expression of surprise as she looked at one of the letters recently delivered by the guards from the south.

“Is something wrong, Hiyori?” the emperor asked, noting his daughter’s peculiar demeanor.

“Father, look at this,” she replied with urgency in her voice, handing the letter to him. He immediately took it and began to read.

“A strange group has appeared in the Jade Sea, coming from the west, defeating all the pirates and carving a path to the city of Yin. Not only that, they are negotiating food with Lord Kin’emon. They’ve offered supplies for the entire country, and Lord Kin’emon is asking if you’re interested in doing business with them, father…” Hiyori explained as she watched her father read the contents carefully. “Isn’t this an opportunity to address the growing hunger in the country?” she added, seeking his opinion and offering her perspective.

The emperor studied the letter, his expression showing evident surprise. “How is this possible?” Oden murmured, still trying to process the information. “This is truly unsettling… but can we trust them?” he wondered aloud.

“We’re running out of options, father… It wouldn’t hurt to hear their proposal,” she suggested.

“…” Oden remained silent for a while, appearing to reread the letter several times.

“What will you do, father?” Hiyori asked, breaking the silence once more, watching as he stroked his chin in thought.

“I don’t know yet. I’ll certainly need to inform the others, as this decision isn’t mine alone to make. For now, please summon the man who brought this letter. He must have more details,” he requested.

“All right, I’ll notify the guards,” Hiyori responded, standing quickly and leaving to carry out the task.

The guards fetched the man from Yin, who had been waiting, assuming it might take days before the emperor summoned him. To his surprise, he was called almost immediately. Without delay, he was escorted into the castle, climbing to one of its uppermost floors.

When he entered the solar where the emperor often pondered his strategies, he found both the emperor and the princess present. Without hesitation, he knelt respectfully before them.

“Rise, and please tell me about this group. I want to know every detail,” the emperor ordered.

“Of course, Emperor Oden!” the man responded promptly, beginning to recount all he knew. Though he had not witnessed Jon fighting, his accounts were limited to what he had observed up to the day he left Yin—the same day Kin’emon had sent the letter.

Nonetheless, he provided as many details as he could: giants, perfectly constructed ships, men wearing armor unlike anything used in Yi-Ti but native to their own lands, and the young king who commanded the entire fleet of 450 ships and 22,000 armed men. His words left both the emperor and the princess astonished.

After an hour of conversation, the man nervously finished his account, omitting no details. The emperor contemplated every word he heard while his daughter, Hiyori, observed him closely. He then instructed the man to wait in the corridor with the guards.

“Do you think they’re trustworthy, father? This seems almost too good, considering the dire situation we’re in now,” Hiyori asked.

“Yes, daughter,” the emperor replied thoughtfully. “But they’ve already begun negotiations with Kin’emon in his city. What’s more concerning, however, is the letter that should have arrived by pigeon but hasn’t.” He frowned.

The emperor stroked his chin, visibly worried. The man had mentioned that Lord Kin’emon had first sent a letter by pigeon, followed by the messenger. It appeared the letter had been intercepted.

After pondering for a moment, the emperor made his decision. “Very well. I’ll call for a meeting with all the other provincial leaders. I want to hear their opinions on this matter,” he declared, despite the fact they had only recently concluded a meeting.

Leaving his daughter behind, he gestured for the guards and the man from Yin to accompany him. Soon, the emperor made his way to the council chamber, escorted by his guards. The other provincial leaders and samurai were being summoned once again to discuss what action to take regarding the mysterious group that had arrived in the southern port city.

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