We marched in the daylight of fall, the gates of yet another one of Tong Zhen's inner cities coming into view.
The cities and towns we had passed by were empty of civilians. They had likely been evacuated, or evacuated themselves when they heard that we were marching through.
The City of Qin Tu - it wasn't the capital of Tong Zhen.
But it was where the General-King wanted to rename as capital.
Men stood atop the white walls, arrows in hand. But they only observed our men marching onwards, not reacting in the slightest.
By Feng Mian's calculations and the Emperors' own opinions, this would be the last battle.
I had asked Zheng to allow me to go with him. When we won, I would need to be there anyway.
For Lang and Zheng to form a deal to have an equal split of the land they had won.
The Emperors were on either side of me; Zheng in his red headband and Lang in his silver one.
My black robes bore nothing memorable, and my steed huffed as I pulled him to a slower trot.
