Snow fell in slow spirals over the borderlands.
Ethan stood beneath a skeletal pine tree, eyes fixed on the horizon. Beside him, the new banner swayed—black wolf, silver vein—stitched from slave cloth and oath-bound silk.
Behind them, a dozen tents now dotted the valley.
Then twenty.
Then thirty.
“Another group arrived from the Hollowfang outskirts," the scout reported. “Healers, miners, a few deserters from the capital guard."
Xiluo nodded. “Bring them in. No titles. No tests."
“Just loyalty" the scout asked.
“Just truth."
He bowed and left.
Ethan turned to her. “You're not afraid they'll betray us"
“Not yet."
He raised a brow.
She added, “The ones who lie… can't stay quiet long."
---
Inside their tent, she laid out an old Silver-Vein ritual cloth.
Symbols glowed faintly u
