Mei luta por mil léguas

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The ninth month of the five hundred and eighty-eighth year of the Yuxing era. The northwestern reaches of the Tianyu Empire. Jinchuan City.

Tall and imposing walls rose from the Jinchuan grasslands. What had once been a vast and prosperous steppe, thick with merchant caravans, had become a battlefield, scarred in every direction by the ravages of war.

Silkweed moss, resembling strands of kelp yet rooted to the earth, spread wildly across the ground, drinking deep from the blood and flesh it found there, feasting upon the corpses of tens of thousands of rebel soldiers whose bones had long since been laid bare.

Crows clamored for the abundance of rotting flesh, their blood-stained beaks tearing at chunks of meat. Yet there was far more carrion than birds to consume it, and in their greed the wretched creatures fell upon one another in a writhing, shrieking mass.

Then, without warning, a sound like rolling thunder came from the east.

The crows scattered in every direction.

Across the earth, a great water dragon ran wild — the floodwaters of the Hai River surged like a rampaging leviathan toward Jinchuan City, unstoppable and absolute.

Jinchuan City, already encircled by the magnificent armies of Tianyu, flew a battle banner bearing the character "Bo" from its walls, the flag trembling uncertainly in the autumn wind.

"Report, Commander — the embankment at the Hai River outside the city has been breached. Water is entering the city."

"All forces, take to the boats and enter the ci