Empress Su Mingyue gazed at the desolate slope in the distance, her hand gripping the reins beginning to tremble slightly.

The massive army behind her also came to a halt; 500,000 people were deathly silent, with only the wailing of the northern wind sweeping through the withered grass.

A moment later, Empress Su Mingyue dismounted.

Dongmei wanted to follow, but was stopped by a wave of her hand.

"Pass the order down. The entire army is to remove their armor and cross Wild Wolf Slope on foot."

Empress Su Mingyue's voice was not loud, and her tone seemed extremely steady.

The 500,000-strong army removed their armor before Wild Wolf Slope.

The clattering sound of iron armor plates colliding rang out from the very front of the formation all the way to the back.

The ranks, stretching for dozens of miles, receded like a tide; everyone silently untied the leather cords of their armor, cradled their helmets in their arms, and folded their armor to place it on the supply wagons.

The white cloth carried with the army was unrolled bolt by bolt, torn into strips, and tied around everyone's foreheads and waists.

The northern wind, carrying snowflakes, whipped against the white cloth, making it snap loudly.

The veterans who had followed from the Northern Border Army silently went through these motions.

The surrendered soldiers were initially a bit bewildered, but soon, they too were pressed into lowering their heads by this silent atmosphere, silently following suit.

Empress Su Mingyue also removed her armor.

She took off the black armor she had worn for over half a year and removed her helmet.

Inside, she wore only a white undergarment; the northern wind instantly pierced through the thin fabric, but she remained completely oblivious.

She stepped forward and walked toward Wild Wolf Slope.

The 500,000-strong army behind her also began to walk.

No one rode horses, no one rode in carriages; even the pack mules were left behind.

500,000 people formed a long dragon, turning from the main road onto the side path, moving slowly along the foot of Wild Wolf Slope.

Wild Wolf Slope was still the same Wild Wolf Slope as it had been back then.

Amidst the withered grass and scattered rocks lay countless ghastly white bones.

Half a year ago, 200,000 men of the Northern Border Army and Old Marquis Su Yongning, had all died in battle on the desolate hills of Wild Wolf Slope.

No one had collected the bodies, and no one had buried them.

The northern wind swept over the hillside, rain washed over them, and wild beasts gnawed upon them; the 200,000 sets of dry bones slowly emerged from the thickets of withered grass.

Broken swords and spears were covered in rust, and fragments of armor were scattered between the crevices of the rocks.

The wild grass on the wasteland grew wildly in the gaps between the dry bones.

Some of the skeletal fingers were still clutching tightly onto sword hilts that had rusted into iron dregs, and some skulls still wore the eagle-beak iron helmets unique to the Northern Border Army.

500,000 people stopped before Wild Wolf Slope.

The northern wind whistled as it swept over the hillside, causing the withered grass to flatten layer after layer, revealing the piles of white bones beneath the roots.

Some Northern Border Army veterans recognized the armor their comrades had worn back then.

Only now, that armor was worn by a set of dry bones.

Those familiar faces from before had turned into piles of shattered, dry bones.

But the sword tassel on the hilt was still there, the old strip of cloth wrapped around the arm was still there, and the leather wrist guard they had tied on with their own hands years ago was still attached to that radius bone, now broken in two.

A veteran's knees went weak, and he fell heavily to his knees before the pile of bones, his trembling hands cupping the skull wearing the eagle-beak iron helmet, his lips quivering violently.

He cradled the skull in his arms, as if afraid of hurting something, and gently wiped the dirt from the bone sutures of the eye sockets with his hand.

And then, this man, who had never shed a single tear even when his shoulder was split open by a blade on the Northern Border Army battlefield.

He pressed his forehead against the iron helmet of that skull, his whole body shaking, crying until he could not catch his breath.

One, two, and then hundreds, thousands.

The Northern Border Army veterans knelt one by one on the desolate slope, kneeling before the bones of the brothers they had fought side-by-side with back then.

The sounds of weeping and sobbing converged into a low wave of sound, drowning out the wailing of the northern wind.

The surrendered soldiers stood silently in the back; some knelt down, some lowered their heads and gripped their sleeves, and some turned their faces away, unable to bear watching any longer.

Empress Su Mingyue stood at the highest point of the slope, her white clothes snapping in the northern wind.

She did not lower her head to look for that specific skeleton, did not kneel, and did not shed a tear.

She only gazed at the white bones covering the mountains and plains, then raised her head to look at the lead-grey sky.

The soldiers behind her did not know what she was looking at.

Dongmei stood at the foot of the slope, looking up at the Young Miss.

The figure on the top of the slope was thin and straight in the wind and snow, like a silver spear nailed into the northern wind.

Empress Su Mingyue took one last deep look at this desolate slope covered in white bones.

"Pass the order. The entire army is to make camp here and collect the remains of all the fallen soldiers on Wild Wolf Slope."

"Every skeleton must be collected, and every fragment must be gathered."

These soldiers followed my father their entire lives and guarded the Northern Border Army for the Su Family their entire lives.

"I could not bring them home while they were alive, but in death, I will let them rest in peace; I cannot let them be exposed in the wilderness."

The 500,000-strong army dispersed before Wild Wolf Slope.

Everyone walked silently into the desolate slope covered in white bones.

The soldiers bent their waists, carefully searching through the waist-high withered grass, like a group of survivors searching for loved ones in ruins.

Some used their scabbards to push aside the dense grass roots, while others used their hands to dig directly into the hardened soil.

The remains were lifted from the withered grass one by one, with movements extremely light and slow, as if afraid of disturbing something.

Intact skulls were carefully placed into stretchers lined with white cloth, and bones that had broken into fragments were gathered piece by piece and wrapped in cloth.

The collection lasted from the afternoon until deep into the night.

Campfires lit up on the desolate slope like little stars, like a handful of scattered stars from the night sky reflected on the ground.

The soldiers continued their search by the light of the fires; no one cried out of fatigue, and no one stopped.

The surrendered soldiers were initially just following orders, but later, whether by someone's lead or not, they also silently knelt in the grass and dug the soil with their hands.

They had once been enemies, but the white bones before them no longer distinguished between friend and foe; they were simply a group of people who had died on the desolate mountain.

On a sunny, wind-sheltered hillside, the soldiers dug one deep pit after another, the pits arranged neatly, like the formation the Northern Border Army used to take when lining up on the training ground.

After each set of remains was collected, it was placed into a pit and covered with black soil.

There were no coffins, no burial goods, only white cloth wrapping white bones, and black soil covering heroic souls.

After all the remains were interred.

A massive stone monument was erected on the slope of Wild Wolf Slope.

Empress Su Mingyue stood before the monument for an entire night, and at dawn, she picked up her brush and wrote the inscription.

The handwriting was clear, vigorous, and sharp; before the ink had even dried, the stonemason carved it stroke by stroke according to her handwriting.

Each chisel strike was extremely heavy and steady, stone chips flying and landing on the soil, the sound of chiseling echoing across the vast wilderness.

Empress Su Mingyue stood before the mass grave, lifted a bowl of wine, and slowly poured it onto the black soil in front of the monument.

The wine seeped into the soil, leaving only a dark, damp mark.

The sound of 500,000 people breathing behind her condensed into a low hum, which was then scattered across the wasteland by the northern wind.

Putting on her black armor once again, Empress Su Mingyue mounted her horse; her silver spear glinted with a biting, cold light under the pale early winter sunlight, and her warhorse reared and let out a long neigh.

"Pass the order, the entire army is to set out, back to Youzhou."