The North Plains were unforgiving, a land of endless white that swallowed both the weak and the strong without distinction. The snow fell heavy that morning, blanketing the camp in a thick, oppressive silence. The fires burned low, and the people huddled together, faces drawn tight with hunger and exhaustion. Supplies were running out, and the cold, once an enemy, was now an ever-present threat.
Hui Jian stood at the edge of the camp, his eyes scanning the horizon. The wind bit at his skin, but he ignored it, his mind focused elsewhere. The victory against the beastman warband had bought them time, but it was fleeting. The camp's food stores were dangerously low, and the few primeval stones they had left were barely enough to sustain their cultivation.
It was only a matter of time before the camp crumbled under the weight of starvation.
He had gathered the few he trusted: Ren, Mei Lin, and a handful of others who had proven themselves in the recent ambush. They stood around him, faces grim, waiting for his plan.
"We don't have enough supplies to last the month," Hui Jian said, his voice low and even. "If we stay here, we'll starve."
Ren crossed his arms, his brow furrowed. "We've already scouted the area. There's nothing close by that we haven't picked clean. And the beastmen... they're growing more aggressive."
"We can't just sit here and wait for death," Mei Lin added, her eyes flicking to Hui Jian. "What do you suggest?"
Hui Jian turned to face them, his expression calm despite the severity of the situation. "There's another group to the west. They've been avoiding us, but we know they have supplies—primeval stones, food, maybe even Gu. If we're going to survive, we need to take what they have."
Ren's frown deepened. "You're suggesting we raid them?"
Hui Jian nodded. "It's the only way. We either strike first and take what we need, or we die here in the snow."
There was a long pause as the group processed his words. The idea of raiding another group wasn't new, but it was dangerous. The North Plains were filled with desperate survivors, Gu Masters, and beastmen, all fighting for the same dwindling resources. But the risk wasn't just in the battle. It was in what followed—revenge, retaliation, the endless cycle of violence that defined life in this frozen wasteland.
"We don't have the numbers for an open fight," Mei Lin said quietly. "How do you propose we take them?"
Hui Jian's gaze was steady. "We use the terrain to our advantage. They're camped near the cliffs to the west. We'll ambush them at night, use the cliffs to trap them. If we hit hard and fast, they won't have time to mount a defense."
The others exchanged uneasy glances. Even Ren, who had stood by Hui Jian's side through the worst of the North Plains' dangers, looked uncertain. But there was no argument. The situation was desperate, and desperation left little room for hesitation.
Hui Jian spoke again, his voice calm but firm. "We can't afford to hesitate. We need those supplies. If we don't take them, someone else will. And we'll be the ones left to starve."
Ren sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't like it, but you're right. We don't have a choice."
Mei Lin nodded, her eyes hardening. "We'll need to move quickly, then. If we wait too long, the snow will cover their tracks."
Hui Jian's mind was already racing ahead, planning each step of the ambush, calculating the risks and weighing the outcomes. This was how it had to be. Sacrifices had to be made, and if they wanted to survive, they had to be ruthless.
He dismissed the group to prepare, but Ren lingered behind, his expression dark. "You're playing a dangerous game, Hui Jian," he said quietly. "If we start down this path, there's no going back."
Hui Jian's eyes met Ren's, cold and unflinching. "We started down this path the moment we decided to survive."
The preparations were swift. The small group Hui Jian had assembled gathered their weapons and supplies, checking their Gu and sharpening their blades. There was no ceremony, no final speeches, just quiet resolve as they readied themselves for the raid.
The camp remained unaware of their plan. Hui Jian had kept the details to a minimum, trusting only those who were necessary. The others didn't need to know. The camp was fragile enough as it was, and panic would only hasten its collapse. Better to keep them in the dark until the supplies were secured.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the North Plains in a pale twilight, Hui Jian led his group westward. The snow was thick underfoot, muffling their footsteps as they moved through the frozen wilderness. The wind howled in the distance, carrying with it the promise of more snow.
The cliffs loomed ahead, jagged and imposing against the darkening sky. Beyond them, Hui Jian knew, lay the rival camp. His scouts had reported seeing smoke from their fires, and the tracks in the snow indicated they were lightly guarded. It was the perfect opportunity.
They reached the base of the cliffs, where Hui Jian motioned for the group to stop. He crouched low, gesturing for Ren and Mei Lin to join him as he surveyed the area.
"There," he whispered, pointing to the faint glow of firelight in the distance. "That's their camp. We'll circle around and approach from above. Once we're in position, we'll strike."
Ren nodded, his expression grim. "And if they fight back?"
"We don't give them the chance," Hui Jian replied, his voice cold and steady. "This is a raid, not a battle. We hit them hard, take what we need, and get out before they can regroup."
Mei Lin shifted uncomfortably beside him. "What about the ones who aren't fighters? The women, the children?"
Hui Jian's gaze didn't waver. "We're here for the supplies, not to kill indiscriminately. But if anyone gets in our way... we do what's necessary."
There was a long pause, but neither Ren nor Mei Lin argued. They knew what was at stake. The survival of the camp depended on this raid, and in the North Plains, mercy was a luxury they couldn't afford.
Hui Jian signaled for the group to move. They climbed the cliffs silently, their breath visible in the cold night air. The wind picked up, howling through the rocks, masking their approach as they drew closer to the rival camp.
When they reached the top, Hui Jian crouched low, peering down at the camp below. There were a dozen or so figures huddled around a central fire, their movements slow and tired. Their guard was down, the weight of the North Plains' endless winter wearing on them just as it had worn on Hui Jian's own camp.
This was it. The moment he had planned for. The moment where survival meant taking what others had, even if it meant bloodshed.
He turned to the others, his voice barely audible over the wind. "Remember the plan. We hit hard and fast. Take everything we can carry. No hesitation."
The group nodded in silent agreement, their eyes hard with determination. They had followed Hui Jian this far, through the cold, the hunger, and the bloodshed. They would follow him now, into the heart of the storm.
Hui Jian drew his blade, the cold metal gleaming in the faint light of the fire below. His heart beat steadily, his mind sharp and clear. There was no turning back now.
With a single gesture, he gave the signal.
And the ambush began.