War in the Northern Plains was not a choice; it was a season. It arrived with the inevitability of the blizzard, stripping away the soft flesh of peace to reveal the hard bone of survival beneath.
Three days after our return from the wilds, the Ju Tribe transformed. The festive atmosphere of the Awakening Ceremony—the smell of roasted lamb, the sound of drunken songs, the hopeful cheers of parents—vanished overnight. It was replaced by the grim, mechanical efficiency of a machine gearing up for slaughter.
The entire camp became a single, throbbing organism dedicated to violence.
I visited the Refinement Hall first. It was a long, low tent reinforced with heat-resistant yak leather. Inside, the air was thick with the acrid smell of burning essence and ozone. There were no blacksmiths here; in the Gu World, steel was folded by will, not hammers.
Dozens of Refinement Path Gu Masters sat in rows, their faces pale and slick with sweat, working in exhausted shifts. Their primeval essence flared in rhythmic pulses, casting eerie shadows on the tent walls.
I watched a Rank 1 Gu Master refining an Iron Skin Gu. He held a common rhino beetle in one hand and a piece of black iron ore in the other. He didn't melt the ore; he forced his essence into it, breaking down the material structure until it turned into a black liquid that defied gravity. With a grunt of exertion, he fused the liquid into the beetle. The insect shrieked—a high-pitched sound of biological alteration—before its shell hardened into a metallic carapace.
"Production is up 20%," an Elder barked, walking down the line. "But it is not enough! The Hei Tribe uses Copper Skin Gu. If our defense fails, we die! Pour more essence!"
Further down, the Enslavement Refiners were mass-producing Rank 1 Wolf Enslavement Gu. This was a bloodier process. They utilized the brains of wild wolves mixed with Obedience Grass. The smell was copper and rot. They were creating the chains of the soul, turning the wild predators of the plains into disposable ammunition for the coming conflict.
I left the Refinement Hall and walked to the Medicine Hall.
If the Refinement Hall was the armory, this was the triage center waiting to happen.
Healing Gu Masters moved between massive clay vats. They weren't brewing potions for humans to drink; that was a mortal misconception. They were preparing fuel.
Rank 1 Healing Water Gu were parasites that lived in water. To activate their healing properties, they needed to consume high-energy nutrient paste. The Gu Masters ground spirit herbs, crushed the bones of vitality-type beasts, and mixed them into a thick, glowing green sludge.
"Fill the vats!" the Medicine Hall Elder commanded. "When the wounded come back, we will not have time to brew! The Healing Water Gu must be fed now so they can eat the injuries later!"
It was industrial biology. It was cold, calculated, and entirely necessary.
I made my way to the highest point in the camp—the balcony of the Clan Leader's yurt. From here, the Ju Tribe looked like an anthill that had been kicked. Ten thousand mortals were sharpening spears, packing dried meat, and reinforcing the tent poles. Three thousand Gu Masters were meditating, checking their apertures, or saying goodbye to their families by spending more time with them.
"It's about resources," a soft voice spoke beside me.
Yue Yin stood at the railing. She wore her maid disguise—a simple grey robe that hid her lethal curves—but her posture was relaxed. Her Rank 4 Breath Concealment Gu made her presence feel like a whisper in a storm.
"The winter is comingand with it the blizzard cycle," she continued, her silver eyes scanning the frantic preparations below. "The scouts report that this winter will be the harshest in ten years. The Ju Tribe's water reserves are going to be frozen. We need the Warm Springs of the Ice River Valley to survive. If we don't take it from the Hei Tribe, all the mortals and even half the Gu masters will freeze or starve before spring."
"That is what they tell the mortals," I replied, my voice flat. My eyes drifted past the camp, up to the grey, churning sky.
To the common Gu Master, this was a battle for survival. It was a Darwinian necessity. Eat or be eaten.
But I had read the Reverend Insanity novel in my past life. I knew the history of this world. I knew the terrifying truth that hovered above the clouds.
"This isn't about water," I whispered, gripping the wooden railing until my knuckles turned white. "And it isn't only about survival. It's about entertainment. It's about betting."
Yue Yin looked at me, tilting her head. "Betting?"
"The Northern Plains," I gestured to the vast, snowy expanse. "To us, it is a home. To the Gu Immortals of the northern plains it is a game board."
I closed my eyes, visualizing the structure of the world I had learned about.
"The Immortals possess resources we cannot imagine. They could snap their fingers and turn this winter into summer. They could fill our granaries with a wave of their hands. But they don't."
"Why?" Yue Yin asked.
"Because charity breeds weakness," I explained, channeling the cold logic of the Gu World. "The Immortals need to redistribute resources among their mortal descendants, but they need to ensure the bloodline remains strong. They need wolves, not sheep."
I pointed at the armies gathering below.
"So, they orchestrate wars. They create scarcity. They put a singular resource—like the Warm Springs—between two hungry dogs and watch what happens. The winner proves their worth and 'earns' the right to live. The loser is culled, their luck and resources absorbed by the victor."
I remembered the Imperial Court Contest that would happen milenia later in the canon timeline. I realized now that it wasn't a sudden invention of mine; it was the refinement of a system that had existed for eons. I was living in the proto-stages of that cruel tradition.
"We are just fighting cocks in a pit," I murmured, the image visceral in my mind. "We puff out our chests, we sharpen our spurs, and we peck each other to death. We think we are fighting for glory or water. But we are just performing while the owners stand above the pit, counting their coins and betting on which bird dies first."
Yue Yin stared at me. The silence between us stretched, filled only by the distant hammering of the camp. She had lived a hard life as a thief, surviving in the shadows, but she had always viewed the world from the ground up.
"You sound like an old man," she said quietly, a trace of unease in her voice. "Are you not too pessimistic?"
"I was a doctor," I corrected her. I turned to face her, my golden eyes flashing with a cold, clinical light.
In my past life, I had spent years opening human bodies. I had seen the frailty of flesh. I had seen how a single microscopic organism could bring down a titan. I learned that to cure the body, you often had to cut it open.
"A doctor does not look at the smile on the patient's face," I said. "He looks at the X-ray. He looks at the blood work. He looks for the rot beneath the skin."
I looked back at the Ju Tribe—my tribe. My father, the Elders, the soldiers. They were all cells in a body that was fighting a fever.
"My vision can diagnose the disease of this world," I whispered. "It isn't the Hei Tribe. It isn't the blizzard. It isn't even the Immortals."
I clenched my fist, feeling the Dog Shit Luck Gu and the Unlucky Gambling Eye resonate within my aperture.
"The disease is weakness."
The wind howled, tearing at my Wolf King cloak.
"In a world like this, morality is a symptom of death. Mercy is a cancer. Only strength is the cure. We should not be weak, Yue. We cannot afford to be the patient."
I looked at her, my gaze intense.
"We must be the Rulers."
Yue Yin shivered, not from the cold, but from the raw ambition radiating off me. She stepped closer, her hand finding mine.
"Then let us do that, Husband."
I nodded, turning back to the horizon where the Hei Tribe must be getting ready too.
"We should prepare more its not enough yet"