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Off in the distance of a small camp, a figure rode in on a pitch black horse as the morning sun rose behind them. The camp was well off anyone's radar, in the middle of nowhere, in fact, so the figure obviously had to have known where to go. 

The men doing their morning sparring paused for a brief moment to look at the person as they rode closer, squinting their eyes at the figure.

The figure seemed to be a man, looking as if he was nearing twenty years of age. His tan cloak was dusted with snowfall, yet his black hair was immaculate in a long ponytail. Sharp brown eyes lay under thick black brows, burning with a foreign emotion.

Could it be that this man was power hungry...or just hungry?

The figure kept his chin up as he rode past the training soldiers, pink lips twitched downwards in a serious expression. The soldiers didn't dare ask who he was, it just seemed as if the man belonged there naturally.

He rode towards the largest tent situated in the center, a red flag with the country's emblem sticking up and waving valiantly in the morning winds. He tied up his horse by the others before opening the tent's flaps to see other men hovering over a table. 

"I'm sorry if my arrival was late." 

The other men look towards the newcomer. The newcomer had a confident and almost cocky air to him, unlike the nervous soldiers out in the snow.

Meanwhile, the newcomer examined the men opposite him. All 6 of them were older, between their late twenties to early seventies, but looked as if they had been to Hell and back.

Glad I fit in.

"Who are you?" One of them finally asks as the boy reaches into his coat and withdraws a scroll.

"I am Shi Zixin, but many know me more as Wang Jianjun's Zhùshǒu," Shi Zixin comments before dipping into a bow, hair shifting.

"Why is Wang Jianjun not here?" Another asks as Shi Zixin rises with his brows furrowed.

"Did you not yet receive my correspondence?"

"Who was it addressed to?"

"General Wu," Shi Zixin responds as someone in the back nods.

"General Wu is to come in three days from now. He is busy getting the recruiters to travel the country," a middle-aged man informs. "I am General Yao, and I recall that I have written to you before," General Yao comments as he steps forward. While he was in his forties, he was still muscular and strong looking, albeit smaller in height than Shi Zixin. "In fact, all of us have spoken to you before."

"Of course, how can I forget you, General Wu, General Lin, General Liu, General Ho, General Fong, and Unit Commander Lau?" Shi Zixin questions. "I have written to all of you in the past eight months, after all. I just haven't associated your names with faces, yet; for which I apologize."

"No need, young sir, we haven't attached our portraits to our letters," the oldest of the seven haughtily laughs. "I am General Lin."

"General Ho," the second youngest of the six says.

"General Fong," another middle-aged man adds as he pushes up rounded glasses.

"I am General Liu," a wiry man with a slight overbite nods.

"Unit Commander Lau."

The last man who spoke was an utter beefcake compared to the rest, and seemed to be the youngest--yet, the highest ranked. It was no doubt that he fought hard for his position, as evident by the scars on his hands and on his face. 

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