The low-key prince summons trainees from the Imperial Household Department at the start of the game.

Deep in the grasslands, the crescent moon hangs like a hook.

In a sheltered river valley hundreds of miles away from Yunzhou City.

Sparse campfires flickered in the night wind, illuminating a few worn-out felt tents and a few skinny wolves.

This is the temporary camp of the remnants of King Xiutu's army.

Since the repeated defeats in the northern border, the Xiutu tribe has been severely weakened. Their cattle and sheep have been captured, and their able-bodied men have died in battle. The remaining elderly, women, and children can only barely survive by plundering villages on the border of the Great Zhou Dynasty on the edge of the grassland.

At this moment, King Agula of Xiutu was sitting by the campfire, holding a worn-out copper bowl in his hand, filled with cloudy mare's milk wine.

He was in his early fifties, with deep wrinkles on his face, but his hawk-like eyes remained sharp in the firelight.

Several tribal elders sat around him, their faces grim. The roasted lamb on the campfire had long since gone cold, but no one seemed to care.

The silence of the camp was broken by the rapid sound of horses' hooves.

A scout on lookout duty stumbled and scrambled into the camp, his voice trembling with fear: "Your Majesty! Someone's coming!"

Agula suddenly stood up, his right hand already on the curved sword at his waist, and asked sharply who the newcomer was.

The scout, panting heavily, pointed towards the entrance of the valley, saying that they were not soldiers of the Great Zhou, but three people wearing cloaks, one of whom was seriously injured and claimed to be an old friend of the king.

Agula frowned, waved to the tribal elders beside him to grab their weapons, and led a squad of personal guards on horseback to meet them at the camp gate.

Under the moonlight, three people dressed in dark green cloaks slowly walked in from the entrance of the valley.

The leader was as pale as paper, with high cheekbones, deep-set eyes, and an unnatural dark purple lip. There were still undried bloodstains on his clothes. He was none other than Yin Hufa, who had fled all the way from Yunzhou to this place.

Behind him followed the Bone Guardian and the Soul Guardian, both of whose cloaks were tattered, and the Soul Guardian's right cheek was still bleeding from the burns.

The three of them had trekked a long way, their boots were worn out, and their feet were covered in blisters. They were barely holding on by sheer willpower.

"Agula Khan, it's been many years." Protector Yin released his left hand from his chest, slowly removed his hood, revealing a pale and thin face, and a strained smile appeared on his lips. "The last time we met was outside Yanmen Pass."

"Back then, when you joined forces with the Left Wise King's tribe to besiege Yanmen Pass, it was our Changsheng Sect that cut off your supply lines inside the pass. Khan, you haven't forgotten this kindness, have you?"

Agula recognized the face, but showed no joy; his right hand remained on the hilt of his knife.

His gaze swept coldly over the three men, his tone carrying the bluntness and ruthlessness characteristic of the grassland people: "Protector Yin, you had quite a few people when we met last time, how come there are only three of you left today? And they look quite badly injured."

"I've heard that an imperial envoy from the Great Zhou Dynasty recently arrived in Yunzhou. Your stronghold has probably been raided, hasn't it?"

Yin Hufa's eye twitched slightly, but he quickly regained his composure.

He took a step forward, his voice hoarse and low: "The Khan is well-informed. Indeed, our stronghold in Yunzhou has been discovered, and we have lost several men."

"But Khan, don't forget, the more we lose, the more we need your help, and you should know very well what we can give you in return."

Agula was silent for a moment, then stepped aside to make way for her and instructed the tribal elder behind him to have the shaman bring over the hemostatic herbs.

Prepare three more bowls of hot mare's milk, and then the Yin Protector makes a "please" gesture.

The campfire was relit with dry wood, and the firelight illuminated six faces, each with its own thoughts.

Agula and the Yin Protector sat on either side of the campfire, while the Bone Protector and the Soul Protector sat cross-legged a little further away, applying black ointment to the blisters on the soles of their feet.

Agula got straight to the point, placing the copper bowl beside the campfire and looking directly at Protector Yin: "Since Protector Yin says he can give me a reward, then tell me."

"I sent people to investigate the matter in Yunzhou. You were absorbing Yin energy in the abandoned military camp for half a month, and as a result, you were all wiped out by the Imperial Observatory."

"Even the Breaking-Type Crossbow was destroyed in Jiangxi, and the ambush at Jigong Mountain resulted in the complete annihilation of your forces. What else does your Eternal Life Sect have to offer me?"

Yin Hufa picked up the hot mare's milk and took a big gulp. The warm liquid slid down his throat, bringing a little color back to his pale face.

He put down the bronze bowl, his voice still hoarse but much calmer than before: "The Khan thought we had lost everything, but all we lost were a few strongholds, a few crossbows, and a few incompetent outer disciples."

"The true roots of the Longevity Cult are hidden deep in the grasslands. Not to mention those three old men in the Imperial Observatory, even if the Zhou Emperor himself came, he wouldn't be able to find it."

"We can afford to wait, but Khan, if I may be so bold, can you?"

He glanced up at the tattered felt tents and the emaciated sheep around the campfire, and continued, "The year before last, Huo Qubing's eight hundred light cavalry circled around to your rear and burned your supplies. Last year, Li Wenzhong defeated Huyan Li's main force at Wild Wolf Gully."

"After two battles, you lost tens of thousands of people and tens of thousands of cattle and sheep were captured."

"It is now late autumn in the north, and in two months the grasslands will be covered in snow. The Khan knows better than I whether the old, weak, women and children in the Khan's tribe can survive this winter."

Agula's face darkened, but he didn't react; he simply drank his mare's milk wine in silence.

Yin Hufa continued, speaking calmly and unhurriedly: "The Khan is short of weapons, but we can use our secret techniques to forge swords for you. The forged swords can easily cleave through the Zhou army's heavy armor."

"The Khan is short of intelligence, but we have a complete map of the northern garrisons, showing the number of troops stationed at each pass and the changing of the guard times."

"The Khan is short of men, but we have the Shadow Corpses."

"One Yin Corpse is worth ten Zhou Army elite cavalry on the battlefield. We can give you anything the Khan wants."

"What we want is very simple: to set up a branch altar in the Khan's territory to absorb the yin energy from the grasslands."

"The grasslands are not like the Central Plains. They lack the civil officials and the Imperial Observatory of the Great Zhou Dynasty. The Yin energy is inexhaustible, making them a natural treasure land for cultivation for us."

"In addition, we also need the Khan to send a team of guides to lead our people through the territory of the Hu people to retrieve some items at the foot of Kunlun Mountain."

"That was a sacred object of our Longevity Sect. It was buried in the ruins of Kunlun Mountain when our ancestor wiped out the sect."

"If we can retrieve it, we will have a way to help the Khan rebuild the Xiutu tribe, and even make the Khan the only king on the grassland."

Agula didn't speak, but stared into Yin Hufa's eyes, as if judging how much of what he said was true and how much was false.

He certainly wouldn't believe it entirely.

He had seen Han merchants use sweet words to swindle tribes' horses, and he had also seen envoys from the Great Zhou Dynasty use enticing promises to lure tribal leaders into surrendering.

But Yin Hufa was right about one thing: his tribe had indeed reached a dead end.

He picked up the copper bowl and drank the remaining mare's milk wine in one gulp, then slammed it down beside the campfire. His voice was rough and decisive: "One hundred curved swords tempered with Yin energy, plus twenty Yin corpses, deliver them to my camp within ten days."

"You may set up branch altars in this valley, but the location must be designated by me, and the time and area for absorbing Yin energy each day must be notified in advance."

"That's the rule of the grasslands: whoever owns the territory calls the shots."

"As for the guides you requested, I will provide them after the first batch of scimitars arrives."

"Don't blame me for being displeased. You can't even defend your own stronghold, so how dare I easily hand over the guide?"

Yin Protector was silent for a moment, his eyes glancing at the several tribal elders who were eyeing him menacingly on the other side of the campfire.

He knew that the old fox wouldn't give in easily, but at least a preliminary consensus had been reached tonight.

He slowly extended his hand: "Deal."

Agula also reached out his hand, and the two rough hands clasped together above the campfire, each lost in their own thoughts.

After Agula and his tribal elders got up and left.

The Soul Protector leaned closer to the Yin Protector and asked in a low voice, "Is the sacred object buried at the foot of Kunlun Mountain real or fake?"

Yin Hufa's lips curled into a faint, cold smile. He said, half true, half false, that the sacred object was real, and that a portion of the remains of the first leader of the Longevity Sect was indeed buried there.

But this thing is worthless to the Hu people, but it is an essential item for the leader of the Holy Sect to break through to the ninth rank.

The Soul Protector hesitated for a moment and asked if giving the Yin Tempering Technique and the Yin Corpse to the Hu people would be like raising a tiger to cause trouble.

The Yin Protector glanced at him, his tone cold and disdainful: "The Yin Tempering Technique is real, but all the tempered weapons have hidden openings left by the Holy Church."

"If necessary, a single Reverse Spirit Technique can render all these weapons obsolete."

"As for the Yin Corpses, what we gave to the Hu people were the lowest-level walking corpses, devoid of intelligence, and obedient to us."

"If things really turn sour, it would be easier to use these things against them than against Zhou Jun."

"Let them taste some sweetness for now and shield us from Zhou's army's blades. Once the leader obtains the sacred artifact and breaks through to the ninth rank, not to mention those three old geezers from the Imperial Observatory, even if the Zhou emperor himself comes to the Northern Territory, he will have to kneel at the feet of the Holy Church."