Dawn over the Grand Defile arrived not with the blare of war horns, but with the gentle, rhythmic chime of copper wind bells hanging from the cedar roof edges.
A soft mist, tinted pink and amber by the rising sun, drifted through the pine groves and settled over the cobblestones. The chilly morning breeze carried the sweet, lingering scent of baked honey and roasted sesame, mingling with the fresh pine resin of the surrounding peaks.
Across the broad meadow where thirty thousand fighters had braced for slaughter twenty-four hours earlier, an entirely different scene was unfolding.
The twelve huge flying war galleons of Heavenly Sword Manor had lowered their boarding ramps to the grass.
Yet their giant crossbow ports were shuttered, their rune-inscribed ramming prows were draped in peaceful green silk banners. Their flight decks were not filled with grim-faced sword formations. Instead, long lines of students, working alongside burly bear craftsmen and swift badger porters, were loading heavy timber crates into the cargo bays.
Every crate was branded with the blue slime crest of the Myriad Spirit Commonwealth.
Inside were thousands of sealed clay pot jars of authentic Jade-Dew Wine, nestled carefully in fragrant straw. Stapped alongside them were towering sacks of Grade-4 Spirit Rice, bundles of wild mountain tea leaves, and hundreds of woven wicker baskets packed with freshly baked scallion flatbreads and red bean pastries that students had purchased at dawn to bring home to their junior brothers and sisters.
