The blizzard lashed the snow-capped peaks, blanketing the tents in white and leaving a heavy silence broken only by the crunch of ice beneath the horses' hooves. Inside his personal tent, Shan-Yu leaned over a map spread out on a rustic wooden table, his thick fingers pointing out routes, mountains, and strategic passes. His narrow eyes glowed with concentration; every line, every valley, every river represented an advantage or a threat.

The fire in the brazier cast shadows that seemed to move with him, reflecting the tension of a leader who lived for war. Around him, rolled scrolls and military utensils were arranged with meticulous order, and a horn hanging on the wall promised action when necessary.

“If we take this step, we can surround them before dawn...” he murmured, whispering more to himself than to anyone else, as he went over every detail with precision.

Outside, the storm raged, but inside the tent, the calm was absolute. Only Shan-Yu and his plans, a man who saw the world as a chessboard, and every move of his enemies as a piece he could crush without mercy.