Edict of Peace 73
Chapter 73: The Fall of a Nation
BOOM!
The rain poured down, a deafening roar.
Outside, a violent storm raged; inside, a bonfire crackled. A bronze cauldron hung over the flames, bubbling with mutton stew. A young man in black clothing, effortlessly relaxed, sat cross-legged on the grassland, using a small knife to cut off ribs of meat, dipping them in a sauce before consuming them. However, the man seated before him, adorned with head ornaments, wore a far less pleasant expression.
The Seventh Khan of the Turkic tribes idly toyed with a curved saber, a trophy from the battle against the Tujue. The blade, crafted from gold and encrusted with seven pigeon-egg-sized gems, was a masterpiece of opulent artistry, yet its edge was keen enough to slice through the northern wind.
The Seventh Khan said, “Your strategy was brilliant, sir. We have seized vast territories in the Western Regions.”
“But my elder brother has suffered a significant loss.”
The Seventh Khan barely suppressed the urge to shout “Fool!”
When they discovered Yu Wen Lie’s surprise attack, the Fifth Khan, who had previously been locked in a standoff with Yu Wen Lie, couldn’t resist the opportunity for glory. He attacked the border city Yu Wen Lie had been guarding. The civilians had already evacuated, and the Turkic forces easily routed the remaining defenders and entered the city.
However, they hadn’t anticipated Yu Wen Lie’s prowess in swift counterattacks.
While they were drunk, Yu Wen Lie returned, burning down the border city of Ying Country and roasting the Turkic cavalry in the process. Tens of thousands of elite soldiers in full armor were reduced to charred remains, crippling the Fifth Khan’s power.
Yu Wen Lie nearly annihilated the Fifth Khan’s forces.
The Fifth Khan, having barely escaped with his life, learned of the Seventh Khan’s gains and flew into a rage. He accused the Seventh Khan of giving Yu Wen Lie the opportunity to attack by focusing on the Western Regions, demanding a share of the conquered lands. Even the Fifth Khan’s father, the Khan of the grasslands dwelling under the golden tent, decreed that the Seventh Khan must help resettle his brother’s displaced tribesmen.
The Seventh Khan’s face darkened.
The lands he had conquered were being used to compensate his incompetent brother.
But he couldn’t disobey the Great Khan.
His fury was impotent. Po Jun smiled faintly, “I have a plan to help you.”
The Seventh Khan sat upright, “I await your counsel.”
Po Jun gazed outside, “It’s raining heavily.”
The Seventh Khan, puzzled, simply nodded. “Yes, it’s the tail end of spring. The grasslands will soon enter the rainy season. The snow from the mountains will melt, swelling the rivers, spreading westward across the plains. The grasslands will enter their most beautiful time of year.”
Po Jun said, “Indeed. The Western Regions lie at a higher altitude, and the Turkic tribes follow the water; they lack the habit of well-digging.”
The Seventh Khan’s eyes widened. He stared at the young man before him, “Why don’t we poison the upper reaches of the rivers? By the time the Fifth Khan’s forces arrive, they will be weakened, right? The people who tend the horses on the grasslands are very superstitious. At that time, we can spread rumors, saying that it is the wrath of the heavens upon the Fifth Khan for seizing your inheritance.”
“Death, coupled with rumors, will strike fear into their hearts. They will surely retreat.”
“The dead horses, cattle, and people will enrich this grassland.”
The Seventh Khan exploded, drawing his saber and slamming it on the table. He roared:
“You want me to poison my own people?!”
“Do you know how many will die?!?”
Po Jun ignored the blade, merely stating, “The death of the Fifth Khan’s tribe is better than the death of yours, isn’t it?”
The Seventh Khan retorted, “But I would rather settle this with steel.”
The strategist from the Central Plains laughed. He rose, placing a hand on the curved saber. His tone was compelling, “What difference does it make, killing with a blade or with poison? Since you intend to kill, why should you care about a good name?”
“Are you so fixated on reputation? But have you considered this, Seventh Khan?”
Po Jun fixed his gaze on the Khan. Fire burned in his eyes. “Even if you cede these lands to him,”
“He won’t appreciate your generosity!”
“He will see you as an immature child who fears his father, a fool. He will plunder your lands, take your women to his tent, whip your warriors. And that, is because of your current mercy.”
These words struck a chord with the Seventh Khan. The strength in his grip on the saber faltered. He looked at Po Jun, appearing defeated. He slumped back, picking up a wineskin and gulping down the liquor. Drunkenness clouded his features. He sighed, “You’re ruthless, sir. Your schemes will ruin my reputation.”
Po Jun responded, “If you must place the blame on me and believe yourself innocent, I have no objections.”
The Seventh Khan, silent, looked at the strategist who had laid bare his innermost thoughts.
The atmosphere grew heavy with the scent of death, yet Po Jun continued eating voraciously. The Seventh Khan suddenly spoke, “I remember, sir, that you wish to return to the Central Plains. Is the grassland not to your liking? Have I not been generous enough to you?”
Po Jun replied, “You have been quite good to me. I enjoy the grassland scenery and the women.”
The Seventh Khan questioned, “Then why do you wish to leave?”
“Is my sincerity insufficient?”
The Seventh Khan stepped forward, his royal cloak rustling. He knelt, his hand striking his chest:
“My ambitions here are incomplete. Please stay. My royal tent will always have a place for you. One day, when my banners illuminate the grassland, you will stand by my side. The people will acclaim your title, calling you the Khan’s King.”
“Please stay.”
His gaze was earnest, yet his hand rested on the hilt of his saber. Such talent and strategy, if not kept, could only be ended by death and burial. Any ambitious ruler yearned to keep exceptional talent.
A person.
Or, a life.
The old guide’s fears materialized. The power of the Seventh Khan, a martial artist at the third realm, within such close proximity, could have instantly severed Po Jun’s throat. Yet, Po Jun remained composed, “It is for your greater cause that I must go to the Central Plains.”
“Haven’t you noticed?”
The Seventh Khan paused. Po Jun helped the Khan rise, pointing at a map. “The Turkic and Ying countries have just fought a great war. You have gained the lands of the Western Regions, but the Fifth Khan’s forces are practically annihilated. Do you believe yourself to be a match for General Yu Wen Lie now?”
The Seventh Khan fell silent. The Iron Cavalry were strong, but the Ying Country’s heavy armored cavalry were only slightly weaker. And then there was Yu Wen Lie, a peerless general and commander.
The Seventh Khan shook his head, “He is not my match.”
Po Jun stated, “Therefore, if Yu Wen Lie seizes this opportunity and advances onto the grasslands, how will you resist? The heads and armor of the Fifth Khan’s warriors have been collected and piled high outside the former border pass, creating a terrifying spectacle. Fear grips the people of the grasslands.”
“Do you think the leaders of the eighteen tribes will be willing to fight this renowned general?”
The Seventh Khan shook his head again.
Po Jun smiled faintly, “Thus, the grasslands are no longer united. This is your opportunity.”
“The grasslands are now split into factions of those who will fight to the death and those who seek peace. Your father only has the choice of war, but you are different. You are young, with glorious achievements. At this juncture, if you were to approach Ying Country and forge an alliance, marrying the Ying princess, what do you think?”
The Seventh Khan looked at Po Jun, “This would make me Ying Country’s sword to control the grasslands.”
Po Jun met his gaze, smiling, “Precisely.”
“But the other tribes, those khans unwilling to fight Ying Country to the death, will come to you. They possess countless cattle and sheep, tens of thousands of serfs. They have the best lives; they have no reason to fight the fierce warriors of the Central Plains. Then, those tribes will come here.”
“They will gather under your tent. When you travel, other khans will accompany you.”
“Then, your name and your commands will hold the same authority as your father’s!”
The Seventh Khan quietly looked at this handsome man from the Central Plains.
The grassland Khan laughed.
He rested his hand on his saber, straightening his back like a majestic eagle. “Sir, you plan to divide the grasslands, splitting the eighteen tribes of the Turkic into eastern and western factions. You aim to divide the authority of the grassland Khan into two camps, don’t you?”
The ambition was clear.
Po Jun looked at him, “Yes, but your vision is limited.”
“Let me illuminate the world for you, Seventh Khan.”
Po Jun lifted the tent flap, pointing towards the sky. The rain fell, the strategist and the Khan gazing at each other. Po Jun said, “The Western Regions are destroyed, and chaos will engulf it. Ying Country’s first target won’t be the grasslands. They will provide you with generous funds and support to stabilize the grasslands, then free their hands to conquer Jiangnan and the southwest, fulfilling the Central Plains’ longstanding dream of unifying the land.”
“After that, they will turn their attention to the grasslands.”
“That moment is your chance. First, secure your own territory. Second, use Ying Country’s support to challenge your father, ultimately unifying the grasslands. Then, you will be a hero no less significant than the grassland Khans of five hundred years ago.”
“At that time, you will want to turn your army south, won’t you?”
“Don’t you long to achieve a feat unmatched for millennia, to become the greatest hero in the epic?”
The Seventh Khan sat still, his heart pounding, his ambition ignited by these words. He instinctively gripped his weapon. Po Jun’s eyes were narrowed in a smile. He murmured to himself,
“Will the Central Plains subdue Jiangnan first, or will your tent prevail over your father’s?”
“The vast northern grasslands and the Central Plains will stand in opposition, and whoever unifies their own region first will seize the advantage.”
“A strategy of dividing the world in two lies in this.”
“The eagle of the grasslands and the emperor of the Central Plains, who will be the greatest hero of this era?”
Po Jun’s black hair was drenched in rain. He clasped his chest in a grassland salute. His eyes shone with a captivating light and burning flame. He smiled, “So, do you have the ambition to strive for the whole world?”
Po Jun spoke the truth—a brilliant and open strategy, an irresistible temptation for any ambitious ruler. What moves men most is not beauty, not wealth, but the magnificence of the world.
The Seventh Khan’s breathing grew heavy, “…And the only person capable of achieving this, the only envoy who can persuade Ying Country to ally with me, is you.”
Po Jun said, “Therefore, I must go to the Central Plains.”
After a long, long silence, the Seventh Khan, his grip tightening and loosening on his weapon, sighed, “I should have killed you, Mr. Po Jun.”
“But I can’t. You have shown me the trend of a world divided in two. Even though I know this is your strategy, that you want to split the Turkic into East and West factions, that you want to use this opportunity to return to the Central Plains, I still can’t bring myself to kill you.”
Po Jun said, “That is ambition transcending life and death.”
The Seventh Khan finally swung his golden saber, severing a lock of Po Jun’s hair. He sheathed the blade. “Let’s pretend I’ve killed you, sir.”
“Let us hope we don’t meet on the battlefield so soon.”
“In forty days, Chen Kingdom will hold a great festival. You will travel to the Central Plains with the envoy.”
Po Jun, holding the lock of hair, smiled faintly, “Very well. But will you not give me a reward?”
The Seventh Khan laughed heartily, “What do you desire?”
“Gold, livestock, or women?!”
Po Jun shook his head. He bowed slightly, “Please, give me a suit of armor.”
The Seventh Khan said, “We have countless suits of armor in the armory, sir. Choose at will.”
Po Jun looked at the Seventh Khan, smiling gently,
“I want a suit of Iron Cavalry armor, of the general’s rank.”
The Seventh Khan’s smile froze.
He stared at the strategist whose schemes had ignited the flames of chaos within his heart. He inexplicably thought of a heavy halberd. The top-tier Iron Cavalry armor, coupled with a halberd, what kind of monster would that create?
Having already agreed to previous requests, this time the Seventh Khan quickly conceded.
He said:
“…Very well.”
……………
Meanwhile, in Jiangnan, upon seeing the seal, Si Ming completely disregarded his dignity.
After a moment’s stunned silence.
His Qi-observing technique activated, the remnants of imperial Qi surged before him.
With a resounding boom!
Si Ming’s eyes rolled back, and he collapsed, only to abruptly sit up again. Li Guanyi was caught off guard. The old man appeared beside him, grabbing Li Guanyi’s hand, his gaze fixed on the seal. He cried out, “A golden seal, with a tiger knob. I see, it’s in Tujue script…”
“[Conqueror of the Western Regions]!”
“This is the royal seal of Tujue! The seal of the Tujue overlord who swept through the thirty-six tribes of the Western Regions, forged from the seals of those thirty-six tribes. In forging this seal, he slaughtered the rulers of the other thirty-five tribes and used their blood to consecrate the furnace.”
“The flames that day burned with blood.”
“You, you…!!!”
“This is what you call a ‘small matter’?!”
The old man glared at him. Li Guanyi shrugged, “I don’t know how to explain it to you.”
“I didn’t do it.”
Li Guanyi attempted to explain that he wasn’t responsible.
The elder refused to believe him, his eyes widening as he looked at the letter in Li Guanyi’s hand.
[Brother Lai’s strategy, my bravery]
[Killing the king and seizing the throne, this seal as a gift]
The old man pointed at the letter, his expression clearly saying, ‘You expect me to believe that?’
“Killing the king and seizing the throne, is it?”
“It’s unrelated to you. They gave you the seal, right?”
Li Guanyi also looked at the rest of the letter. It described how a youth from afar led elite cavalry to the capital. The capital was lit by torches, the royal palace reveling in a night of drinking. The second prince deemed a direct attack unwise and resorted to deception.
He feigned a massive army attack, creating a stir. Because of the upheavals in the world, the celestial signs were obscured, and Tujue’s fortunes were indeed declining. The drunken Tujue king was shocked, fleeing the capital on horseback.
He was even accompanied by a beautiful woman.
The youth, riding a mount with Qilin blood, used a warbow to shoot the Tujue king from his horse.
Then, “[Seized all artisans, scholars, armor, supplies, and maps]”
“[What could not be taken was burned]”
“[This is of no use to me, only to be given to my brother to play with]”
The elder read the letter, piecing together the whole story.
The youth before him had devised the strategy, while another youth had carried it out.
How was a nation’s demise achieved?
From a worldly perspective, it was the destruction of cities. From the perspective of legacy, it was the killing of the king, the seizure of the seal, rendering the nation incapable of resurgence.
Si Ming suddenly realized something absurd.
The destruction of Tujue, ostensibly by the top-tier general Yu Wen Lie,
was actually the work of two youths who were not yet thirty years old combined.
Li Guanyi looked at the artifact, holding the royal seal, his head raised. He seemed to sense the starlight of the White Tiger constellation more directly. He looked at the old man beside him, with many questions he wanted to ask. In the end, he simply extended his hand, his palm open, the small seal resting in his hand.
“This thing.”
“Is it enough?”
Si Ming: “…………”
(Chapter End)
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