Night had fallen, and the candlelight flickered across the walls of the command tent.
Li Song sat silently before a wooden war map, his brow furrowed. Red and blue flags dotted the parchment battlefield, marking enemy and friendly positions, with inked lines tracing mountain paths and valley routes. He tapped the edge of the table with his knuckles—each knock slow and deliberate, echoing like distant war drums in the dim light.
"The Dark Forest Squad excels at ambush tactics, but they're not suited for deep-penetration missions," Li Song muttered. "To cut into enemy territory, sever supply lines, and survive the heart of the storm, we need a new kind of unit—one that can shoot, fight, hide, and break through."
Bai, crouched nearby as he dressed a scout's wounded arm, looked up. "You're going to build it yourself?"
"Not a scout team this time," Li Song replied. "This will be a blade."
At that moment, General Kelide entered, flanked by two deputy commanders. He cast a brief glance over the war map. "Wang's camp has approved your proposal. You may form a five-person squad. Choose freely. You'll be solely responsible."
"Thank you, General," Li Song said, saluting.
——
The next morning, the training field was hard with frost, and the breath of soldiers steamed in the cold.
Li Song stood at the center, clad in lightweight armor, his stance firm. Before him stood a dozen border scouts and elite veterans, each in crisp gear, blades sheathed at their hips, their eyes sharp like eagles circling prey.
"Only two qualifications," Li Song said, scanning them. "You must know how to kill—and how to survive. I don't want talkers. I don't want glory-seekers. I want those who will follow me through snow and fire, who can fight through enemy lines and live to tell about it."
He drew the Dog blade and drove it into the frozen soil. "First test: hand-to-hand combat."
Without hesitation, the soldiers shed their armor and stepped forward.
Ten bouts later, three stood above the rest:
Xie Hong, a boulder of a man from the old guard, whose fists alone could crush a mounted rider; Mu Rong, once southern cavalry, agile and deadly with hooks and daggers, striking within five steps like a shadow; Xiao Shi, a hunter's son, quiet and sharp-eyed, whose bow could split a branch from thirty paces.
Li Song nodded and called them to him. "You three. With Bai and me, you'll form the Shadow Blade Squad. In three days, we'll strike the southwest ridge and sever the enemy's lifeline."
Bai added, "Memorize their insignia. No friendly fire."
Mu Rong smirked. "If I ever mistake an enemy for an ally, that ally's already dead."
Li Song said nothing, but his gaze turned colder.
——
At dusk, the war council convened.
Kelide stood before the table, pointing at the map. "Raymond has massed 5,000 troops in the west, encamped at Shiling Valley. He'll likely launch a feint at our eastern gate within two days. We'll meet them head-on—but our real move will be in their rear."
His voice hardened. "Li Song's unit will scale the western ridge and strike their supply lines. If we choke their logistics for three days, panic will spread in their camp."
An old general asked, "Only five soldiers? What if they're surrounded?"
"They're not soldiers," Kelide said coldly. "They're my second sword."
A strategist nodded. "If the raid succeeds, we could bait their vanguard into the gorge—trap them with a two-pronged assault."
Silence followed. Then, nods of agreement.
Outside, horns sounded across the snow-covered plain.
The Shadow Blade Squad stepped out of the gates, cloaked in heavy hoods.
——
Beyond the camp, the forest stretched endlessly beneath a veil of white. Crows burst into flight as five shadows passed.
Bai whispered, "It's thirty li to the western ridge. The path is treacherous. We move silent. We reach the rear by dawn. No noise. No light."
Xiao Shi nodded, his eagle bow slung like a crescent moon. Xie Hong thudded his chest, deep as a war drum. Mu Rong spun a rope-hook around her wrist like a serpent.
At the front, Li Song turned once, eyes scanning the glow of the fading camp.
"Move out."
The five melted into the snowbound woods.
The wind held its breath.
That night, the frontier knew no sleep.