The fires of war were drawing near, and the atmosphere in Bingzhou City had reached a snapping point.
The Royal Court Army of Eastern Liao was already lurking just dozens of miles outside the city, their blades pointed directly at the heart of Bingzhou.
Within the city walls, three distinct military forces had converged: the Provincial Army, who had marched from distant prefectures; the diverse and striking foreign auxiliary tribes; and the legendary Northern Frontier Army, renowned for their blood and iron discipline.
Three armies, each with its own commanders and distinct styles.
The position of Grand Marshal of the Three Armies remained vacant, a decision Gu Huaiyu had yet to finalize. However, beneath the surface, a tide of speculation was already surging through the ranks.
In terms of seniority, Han Ding, the Jiedushi of Bingzhou, held the highest esteem. He was seasoned, steady, and commanded immense prestige. His rigorous governance and far-reaching fame made him the natural choice to lead a million-man host.
Beyond Han Ding, the military was not lacking in veteran generals, each a survivor of a hundred battles with distinguished records of service.
While Great Chen had never officially established the rank of Grand Marshal since its founding, history showed that those who held the commander’s seal over a million soldiers were almost always veterans over the age of fifty with deep roots in the military.
The role of a Marshal did not rely solely on individual bravery; it required the wisdom and decisiveness to orchestrate strategies and maintain order from the rear.
Where the million-strong army pointed its blades, the very fate of Great Chen followed. How could such a decision be made lightly?
Because of this, the soldiers and the people of Bingzhou already had a silent consensus in their hearts.
By all rights and expectations, the position belonged to Han Ding.
As for the other generals, while some had their supporters, none possessed the prestige or military standing to rival the Governor.
The barbed arrows of the Eastern Liao were truly vicious.
Even with the Nine Li blood protecting his body—allowing ordinary wounds to heal in a single day—this injury had struck the bone. After returning to Bingzhou and resting for an entire day, the wound had only just begun to scab over. Any movement too large threatened to tear it open and draw blood once more.
Fortunately, there was a major event at hand to distract him. With three armies currently in Bingzhou, their combat strengths varied wildly and their responsibilities differed.
Defending the city, spearheading assaults, providing support—orchestrating this million-man machine was no easy task for Gu Huaiyu.
Pei Jingyi leaned against a low couch, his table cluttered with an assortment of dried fruits and nuts.
He was in the middle of a spirited tactical deduction, pinching a pine nut to place among a pile of almonds, when a servant hurriedly led someone in.
Gu Huaiyu stood by the door, his gaze sweeping over the man with meticulous care. “Is the Commander-in-Chief feeling better?”
Pei Jingyi sat up instantly. He tossed the crushed pine nut into his mouth and flashed a grin. “I wasn’t feeling well a moment ago, but I’m perfectly fine now.”
Gu Huaiyu gave a soft huff and sat down, his robes billowing. A servant brought hot tea.
As he raised the cup, his sleeve brushed his nose. His eyes landed on the scattered snacks, and he asked curiously, “What is this?”
At the question, Pei Jingyi pointed his finger at a pile of plump red dates. “These are the fifty thousand elites of our Northern Frontier Army.”
Then he pointed to the walnuts nearby. “These are the thirty thousand men of the Eastern Liao Royal Court Army.”
As he spoke, he pushed several walnuts into a valley formed by the almonds. “Currently, the two armies are facing off at Eagle’s Fall Gorge. Our forces outnumber them…”
Gu Huaiyu had asked casually, but as he listened, his brow furrowed.
According to Pei Jingyi’s deduction, even for fifty thousand Northern Frontier elites to annihilate thirty thousand Royal Court troops, they would have to pay a staggering price.
His finger tapped a red date. “Why?”
From what he had seen in Eastern Liao, the Royal Court Army wasn’t significantly stronger than the Northern Frontier Army.
Pei Jingyi seized the opportunity to catch Gu Huaiyu’s hand. Never one to miss a chance for himself, he gently toyed with the Chancellor’s slender fingers. “In terms of individual combat strength, they are indeed evenly matched.”
“But the Eastern Liao are defending while we are attacking. Furthermore, look at these twenty thousand Provincial Army troops behind us…”
With his other hand, he swiped at the pine nuts in the rear. “They’ve never faced the Eastern Liao in a frontal clash. I’d have to detach specific units just to maintain their formation, otherwise they’ll fall into chaos the moment things get difficult.”
Gu Huaiyu pulled his hand back. Battlefield logistics were not his forte, so he stopped probing.
With a wide sweep of his sleeve, Pei Jingyi cleared the table of nuts and propped his chin on his hand, staring directly at him. “Did Your Lordship come specifically to visit me, or were you just checking on military affairs along the way?”
He was used to Gu Huaiyu’s cold distance, yet he didn’t expect the man to suddenly turn his face away and whisper, “…I came to see you.”
For a rare moment, Pei Jingyi was stunned.
![The Tower Will Fall [Apocalypse]](https://i2.wp.com/dobynovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/01/93.jpg?resize=151,215 "The Tower Will Fall [Apocalypse]")
