Chapter 827
Good News! Please report to the King of Han!
Subutai is dead!
The news swept across the grasslands like wildfire. In front of more than 200,000 people, Ni Wenjun killed Subutai with the most violent means. This shattered the faith of the Golden Horde soldiers and destroyed their motivation to resist.
They collapsed, they truly collapsed. When these soldiers of the Golden Horde saw the phantom image of the Sirius representing their commander vanish, and the commander's body fall from a thousand feet in the sky, crashing into the ruins of Eagle's Beak Cliff, their faith crumbled, and their last shred of will to resist was extinguished.
"The commander-in-chief...is he dead?"
"Eternal Heaven... the General has fallen in battle!"
"Run! Run now!"
Wailing, screaming, and crying spread like a plague among the 100,000 remaining soldiers.
This army of 100,000 was originally the elite force that Subutai had conscripted from various tribes on the grasslands. After months of fierce fighting at Daoma Pass, nearly half of them had been lost, leaving them exhausted and demoralized. The only reason they were still able to fight was because of Subutai's prestige. Now that this pillar had fallen, the entire edifice had collapsed.
The first to flee were the left-wing Harbala tribe. This nephew of Subutai had been leading his troops in a fierce battle against the right wing of the Han army when Subutai was fighting Ni Wenjun. Although they were at a disadvantage, they had not shown any signs of defeat. But when he saw the true form of Tianlang dissipate, he was struck dumb, his scimitar clattered to the ground, and he lost all will to fight!
"Retreat...retreat!" Halbala roared, turning his horse and fleeing.
His escape caused the more than 20,000 men on the left wing to collapse instantly, abandoning their armor and weapons and fleeing in panic, only concerned with escaping north for their lives.
The remaining 30,000 soldiers of the central army were in even worse condition. They were closest to Eagle's Beak Cliff and witnessed the entire process of Subutai's demise.
Many people knelt on the ground, kowtowing in the direction where Subutai had fallen, wailing and weeping. Some simply dropped their weapons, collapsing to the ground like zombies. Only a few of Subutai's loyal guards, their eyes red with fury, tried to rush forward to retrieve the body, but they were instantly overwhelmed by the tide of fleeing soldiers.
The right wing of the Qimai tribe showed some resilience. Although Qimai was captured by Jin Yanzi, his deputy, Arutai, took command. Seeing the chaos in the center, he not only did not flee but instead roared, "Don't panic! Form a circular formation! Protect the commander's body!"
He led his three thousand personal guards in a desperate battle, managing to form a circular formation amidst the chaos, attempting to stabilize the situation.
But these three thousand men, amidst the tide of one hundred thousand fleeing soldiers, were like a stubborn rock—hard yet instantly submerged. The Han army seized the opportunity to launch a counterattack, unleashing a volley of crossbow bolts and a forest of spears, causing the circular formation to rapidly shrink.
"General, we can't hold on!" The personal guard, his face covered in blood, shouted hoarsely.
Arutai looked around and saw fleeing soldiers everywhere, with the black banners of the Han army surging in like a tide. He gritted his teeth and looked towards Eagle's Beak Cliff, where smoke and dust filled the air, and Subutai's body was no longer visible.
"General..." Arughtai's eyes welled with tears, and he stamped his foot, "Retreat! Retreat north! Take as many as you can!"
The last bit of organized resistance also vanished.
In the Han army formation, Zhang Dingbian lowered his telescope.
The Han army commander's face was expressionless, devoid of joy or sorrow, only displaying a calm and stern demeanor. He gazed for a moment at the utterly collapsed Golden Horde army, then looked at the swaying blue figure atop Eagle's Beak Cliff in the distance, and slowly spoke:
"Pass on the order."
"Your subordinate is here!" The generals behind him responded in unison, their eyes burning with fierce fighting spirit. Subutai's death and the collapse of the Golden Horde army presented a golden opportunity—the perfect time to directly attack Dadu (Beijing).
"Fu Youde".
"Your subordinate is here!" The vanguard general, his silver armor stained with blood, stepped forward with his fists clasped. His shoulder wound had burst open, and blood had soaked through the bandages, but his back was ramrod straight.
"You lead your cavalry to pursue the fleeing soldiers. Remember, don't chase them too far, just drive them away. Drive them towards the Blackwater River, where the current is swift and there are limited crossings. The fleeing soldiers will surely trample each other."
"promise!"
"Golden Swallow".
"Your subordinate is here!" The female general clasped her hands in a fist salute, her crimson armor appearing as if stained with blood in the setting sun.
"You will lead the Azure Dragon Army to infiltrate behind enemy lines and intercept and kill the generals, nobles, and centurions among the fleeing soldiers. Remember, do not linger in battle; strike and retreat immediately. The goal is to render the fleeing soldiers commandless and turn them into headless flies."
"Order!"
Zhang Dingbian's gaze swept over the other generals: "The rest of the units will advance in three routes. The left route will clear the battlefield, gather prisoners, and treat the wounded—regardless of whether they are friend or foe. The central route will head straight for Eagle's Beak Cliff to support Commander Ni and must find Subutai's body. The right route will advance slowly northward, occupy key roads, and prevent a counterattack by the routed troops."
"promise!"
The generals obeyed and departed. Zhang Dingbian rode forward alone, arriving at a high point in front of the battle lines, where he looked down upon the carnage before him.
As the sun sets, it dyes the world a blood red.
As far as the eye could see, corpses lay strewn across the land, and blood flowed like rivers. Broken spears and halberds, shattered shields, fallen flags, ownerless warhorses, and unrecognizable corpses piled up in layers, covering the thirty miles from Daoma Pass to Eagle's Beak Cliff.
The air was thick with the stench of blood, mixed with the smells of gunpowder, burnt odor, and feces, making it nauseating.
But Zhang Dingbian remained unfazed. He had fought for half his life and had seen far too many mountains of corpses and seas of blood.
That's how war is: it's either you die or I die; there's no warmth, no mercy.
If the Han army had not won today, those lying on this land would be sons of the Han people.
"General," a personal guard rode up and whispered, "What about Commander Ni..."
"How did it go?" Zhang Dingbian's heart tightened. The battle between Ni Wenjun and Subutai was earth-shattering. Although he believed in Ni Wenjun's strength, Subutai was, after all, the number one expert on the grasslands, and the outcome was uncertain. Even if he won, it would surely be a Pyrrhic victory.
"Commander Ni is seriously injured, but he has taken the life-saving pills bestowed by the King of Han, so his life is not in danger." The guard paused, "Subutai's body... has been found. It is intact, but lifeless, confirmed dead."
Zhang Dingbian remained silent for a moment, then slowly nodded: "Properly collect Subutai's body with the respect due to a king or nobleman. Although he was an enemy chieftain, he was also a hero of his time and deserves this honor."
"promise!"
"Furthermore," Zhang Dingbian added, "Issue an order to the entire army that no one shall insult or damage Subutai's body; anyone who disobeys will be executed. If any of Subutai's relatives are among the prisoners, take good care of them and do not mistreat them."
"This..." the guard hesitated. "General, Subutai has killed countless Han soldiers. If we treat him so generously, I'm afraid the soldiers will not be satisfied."
“Precisely because he is the enemy chieftain, he should be treated well,” Zhang Dingbian said calmly. “I want to show all the tribes of the grasslands that my Han army has both swift and decisive measures as well as compassionate hearts. Those who submit to me will be treated with courtesy; those who oppose me, no matter how strong, will be punished. This is the way to conquer.”
The personal guard was puzzled: what did their fighting in Hebei have to do with the grasslands? However, Zhang Dingbian knew the Han King's ambitions well; after the unification of China, the various tribes of the grasslands would inevitably be conquered, and as the commander-in-chief, he had to consider these matters. The personal guard clasped his hands in a fist salute and left.
Zhang Dingbian continued to look north.
There, the fleeing army of the Golden Horde surged northward like a flood bursting its banks. Fu Youde's cavalry herded the flock like sheepdogs, while the Flying Swallow Army of the Golden Swallow pounced on the lead sheep like falcons.
Every moment, routed soldiers fell, some killed by the Han army, some trampled to death, and some collapsed from exhaustion, becoming stepping stones for those who came after them.
This was a massacre. But Zhang Dingbian felt neither joy nor sorrow.
That's how war is: either you don't fight at all, or you fight to create thirty years of peace.
As night fell, the pursuit came to an end.
Fu Youde led his cavalry back, their robes stained with blood, but their eyes gleaming with excitement. He rode to the central camp, dismounted, and knelt on one knee: "Reporting to the Commander-in-Chief, I was ordered to pursue the enemy for thirty li, killing over ten thousand and capturing three thousand. The routed soldiers have fled towards the Blackwater River. As you predicted, the crossing was crowded, and they trampled each other, resulting in countless deaths. I have ordered men to raise surrender flags on the banks of the Blackwater River; those who wish to surrender may live."
"Well done." Zhang Dingbian nodded. "What about casualties?"
"Our casualties were less than a thousand, most of them minor injuries."
To defeat an army of 100,000 with fewer than a thousand casualties—even though that army was exhausted—was a feat worthy of being recorded in history. But Zhang Dingbian knew that this was not because the Han army was so strong, but because the Golden Horde was on the verge of collapse. With Subutai dead, their last vestiges of spirit vanished, and their defeat was swift and devastating.
"Where is Golden Swallow?" Zhang Dingbian asked again.
Before she finished speaking, a fast horse galloped up, and it was Jin Yanzi. Behind her were dozens of female soldiers from the Qinglong Army, each with several heads hanging beside their saddles, preserved with lime, their faces grotesque.
"Reporting to the Commander-in-Chief," Jin Yanzi dismounted and clasped her hands in a cold voice, "This humble general was ordered to intercept and kill the enemy general. In total, I killed forty-seven officers of the rank of centurion or above, nine officers of the rank of chiliarch, and one officer of the rank of ten thousand. The defeated soldiers have completely lost their command and are like headless flies."
Who is the commander of ten thousand?
"Harbala. He tried to rally the defeated troops, but was killed in battle by this humble general."
A hint of approval flashed in Zhang Dingbian's eyes. Harbala was Subutai's nephew and held the highest prestige among the routed soldiers. If he hadn't died, the soldiers might have been able to regroup. Jin Yanzi's strike had completely eliminated any future trouble.
"You've worked hard," Zhang Dingbian said. "Go and rest."
"promise."
After the two generals departed, Zhang Dingbian continued to handle military affairs. Prisoners needed to be counted, the wounded needed to be treated, the battlefield needed to be cleaned up, and the fallen soldiers needed to be buried... There were countless tasks to be done. But he remained methodical, issuing orders one after another, and the entire Han army camp operated efficiently like a precise machine.
At midnight, the preliminary statistics were completed.
"Reporting to the Commander," the quartermaster said, his voice trembling as he held up the ledger, "In this battle, our army suffered over 8,700 dead and over 15,000 wounded. We annihilated approximately 50,000 enemy soldiers, of whom 30,000 were killed in action, and over 10,000 died from trampling or drowning. We captured over 23,000 prisoners, seized over 10,000 warhorses, and countless weapons and armor."
Zhang Dingbian listened silently. Nearly nine thousand dead and fifteen thousand wounded—the cost was considerable. But the annihilation of fifty thousand enemy soldiers, the capture of twenty-three thousand, the killing of Subutai, and the complete defeat of the Golden Horde's one hundred thousand-strong army—these achievements were enough to shake the world.
"What should we do with the prisoners?" the quartermaster asked.
This is a major problem. Twenty-three thousand prisoners need to be fed and guarded; mishandling them could become a hidden danger. Killing them is inauspicious and could incite the various tribes of the grasslands to fight to the death; releasing them is also not an option, as letting a tiger return to the mountains would lead to endless troubles.
Zhang Dingbian pondered for a moment, then slowly said, "Divide the prisoners into three groups. The first group consists of the old, weak, and wounded soldiers, about five thousand people. Give them three days' rations and let them return north. Tell them that the Han army does not kill those who surrender. Tell them to go back and tell the various tribes on the grassland that we only want to reclaim the Han lands and have nothing to do with them. Please be well and don't have any ulterior motives."
"The second group consisted of about 15,000 able-bodied soldiers. They were dispersed and incorporated into the auxiliary troops, responsible for transporting provisions and building fortifications. They were told that after three years of service, those who performed well would be freed, given land, and registered in the Han Chinese register."
"The third group, consisting of generals, nobles, and relatives of Subutai, numbering about three thousand, will be kept under strict guard and escorted back to Huangzhou Prefecture for the King of Han to decide their fate."
The quartermaster noted everything down, filled with admiration. Zhang Dingbian's move was a perfect blend of firmness and leniency, kindness and severity. Releasing the old and weak demonstrated benevolence; using the able-bodied men supplemented the workforce; and taking the nobles hostage. In this way, the 23,000 prisoners were transformed from a burden into an asset.
“Furthermore,” Zhang Dingbian added, “we should select prisoners who are fluent in Chinese and familiar with the terrain of Dadu (Beijing) in Hebei to form a guide battalion, led by Fu Youde. The Northern Expedition must continue, and we need people who are familiar with Dadu.”
"The commander-in-chief is wise."
The quartermaster withdrew, and Zhang Dingbian walked out of the main tent. Night had fallen, and the sky was filled with stars.
On the battlefield, Han soldiers lit torches and began collecting the bodies of their fallen comrades. Each corpse was carefully lifted, wrapped in white cloth, and arranged neatly. In the distance, suppressed sobs echoed from the prisoner-of-war camp; the steppe people mourned their fallen kin and their own uncertain fate.
Further away, towards the Blackwater River, scattered remnants of defeated soldiers were still crossing. Some succeeded, escaping into the northern darkness; some failed, swallowed by the river; some knelt on the riverbank, kowtowing towards the Han army, whether to express gratitude for their mercy or to curse the Han army to their demise.
Zhang Dingbian watched all this quietly. He knew that the Han army had won this battle. Daoma Pass had fallen, Subutai was dead, and 100,000 troops had been wiped out. The gateway to Dadu (Beijing) had been opened.
However, the upcoming battles will likely not be so simple. If Subutai, a fourth-level Molten God, is already so terrifying, then how terrifying must that terrestrial immortal in Dadu be?
"General, Commander Ni has woken up," a guard rushed in to report.
Zhang Dingbian's spirits lifted, and he strode towards the wounded soldiers' camp.
Inside the tent, Ni Wenjun lay on a makeshift bed, his body wrapped in bandages, only his pale, paper-white face visible. The army doctor was changing his dressings, and when he removed the bandages, he revealed skin cracked like glass, with some areas so deep that bone was visible.
"How is it?" Zhang Dingbian asked the military doctor.
"His internal injuries are extremely severe, his meridians are damaged, and there is a crack in his dantian. However, he has already taken the Hanwang Miracle Medicine, and his condition has stabilized. I don't know how to treat him next."
The military doctor said to Zhang Dingbian, "I suggest sending Marshal Ni back to Huangzhou Prefecture. Huangzhou Prefecture not only has medical giants like Elder Bai and Elder Liu, but also the Prince of Han. If the Prince of Han takes action, Marshal Ni's injuries should be treatable."
Upon hearing this, Zhang Dingbian replied, "Yes, I understand."
As he spoke, he looked at Ni Wenjun and said, "Commander Ni, I will send someone to take you back to Huangzhou Prefecture right away."
"Commander Ni, please do not refuse. Today's battle has opened the door to our Northern Expedition. Commander Ni has made a great contribution. Commander Ni, do not think too much about the rest. Also, please pass on this battle report to the Prince of Han. The Northern Expedition is a major event that the Prince of Han must personally oversee!"
Ni Wenjun nodded slightly upon hearing this. (End of Chapter)