When the holy city, which had resisted for so long, finally revealed a gap, the tribal cavalry, their patience exhausted by days of siege, charged toward the city gates with bloodshot eyes like a swarm of wasps.

The entire city trembled amidst the deafening sounds of slaughter.

In the wild storm arrows, armor, and long swords flashed with bitter cold light.

The tribal soldiers howled like wolves as they burst into the holy city, forcing the city’s defenders to retreat step by step.

Suddenly, a terrifying thunderous boom rolled through the air, as if someone had torn open the night sky, sending down bolts of lightning. The earth shook and mountains trembled, boulders rolled down, and the sturdy city walls swayed. The ground beneath their feet quaked, thunder roared, and flames erupted.

Everyone struggled to keep their footing, hearts pounding wildly, heads spinning, ears ringing, bodies trembling uncontrollably.

People screamed as they fell from horseback.

Horses whinnied and ran wildly like headless flies, countless riders tumbling from their backs to be trampled by panicked steeds, blood spraying everywhere.

The thunderous explosions came one after another as if heaven and earth were splitting apart. Buildings, temples, and earthen towers on both sides of the long street suddenly collapsed. Ward walls crumbled, fierce flames rolled forth, thick smoke billowed up, and flying debris rained down like locusts upon the dark mass of people, countless screaming as they fell.

The entire holy city instantly became a demon’s hell, like a savage beast opening its bloody maw to devour any enemy who dared harm its people.

Heart-rending screams drifted outside the city. The subordinates watching from the hillside turned pale with fright, nearly falling from their horses as their mounts snorted anxiously, wanting to turn back.

The subordinates hurriedly calmed their mounts, startled by the explosions, and shouted: “Prince, there’s an ambush in the city! Half the holy city suddenly collapsed, burying the vanguard!”

In the distance, the holy city was engulfed in raging flames, black smoke dispersed, and iron arrows flew wildly.

The fire was fierce, instantly becoming a sea of flames. The air grew hot enough to burn, and hundreds of riders hastily retreated, trying to escape through the only narrow exit. Hundreds of people crashed together, trampling each other, fighting and struggling. Those who had just been brothers-in-arms now fought with bloodshot eyes.

The commanders’ roars were drowned out by the deafening sound of collapse. No one could hear their orders. They were terrified, thinking only of escaping the sea of fire.

Screams drifted over the battlefield as the great fire lit up half the sky.

The firelight illuminated Hai Du Aling’s sharply defined face as he gazed toward the holy city, his expression unchanged, his eyes colder than the night.

“I expected this. The Buddha’s Son and Li Yaoying are both cautious people. Even if Bisuo and other royal court people harbored different intentions, Li Yaoying had hundreds of retainers protecting her. Bisuo wouldn’t succeed so easily… Our strategy went too smoothly – they were simply using our tactics against us.”

He smiled, “The city is out of arrows and support. The Buddha’s Son and Li Yaoying are taking desperate measures, planning to die together. They staged this grand show simply to lure us in. They used our tactics against us, and I’ll use their tactics against them! They burned their boats, which is why they allowed us to open the city gates.”

His subordinate’s heart jumped, but he steadied himself and said angrily: “Prince, I’ll go recall the soldiers!”

Hai Du Aling laughed coldly and waved his hand: “Useless. In such chaos, which tribal force could maintain order against the enemy? Who could hear commands? Those war horses are all spooked – they’re beasts, how could they understand your orders?”

Suffocating heat waves rolled toward them as the subordinate sweated profusely: “Prince, what should we do?”

Hai Du Aling watched the flame tongues growing wildly in the fierce wind, his lips curling: “They were well-prepared, familiar with the city’s alleys, and each one fights without fear of death.”

The subordinate’s face turned pale.

“Let the tribal soldiers charge in front. Now the Buddha’s Son and Li Yaoying are at the end of their rope, only able to fight to the death. If we charged in now, we’d be buried under rubble like those tribal soldiers. We’ll attack the city after Li Yaoying’s thunder bombs are exhausted.”

Hai Du Aling spoke calmly, a mocking smile on his lips.

The Northern Rong cavalry weren’t skilled at siege warfare or street fighting. Moreover, Li Yaoying still had those weapons that terrified the Northern Rong. Even with the city breached, she wouldn’t surrender easily. She would certainly set traps. Her weapons were too strange – if she fought to the death, his losses would be devastating. Then, the tribal soldiers loyal to the suzerain state would easily absorb his remaining forces.

So he couldn’t rashly enter the city.

Those tribal chieftains were short-sighted and greedy, coveting the royal court’s wealth, only wanting to quickly bring troops to plunder the holy city, completely disregarding everything else. Seeing the city breached, they rushed in headlong – perfect for them to be the vanguard and exhaust Li Yaoying’s mysterious magical weapons.

“Order all forces to guard the eastern road’s valley entrance. The Buddha’s Son and Li Yaoying might try to break out in the chaos. If any royal court people come out of the city, shoot to kill immediately, spare none!”

Hai Du Aling’s voice was cold and deep.

“They want to die together? I’ll grant their wish!”

The Buddha’s Son had no escape route and was willing to sacrifice the city to lure the enemy in deep, but he wouldn’t fall for it. Now the city’s fall was certain. No matter what methods the Buddha’s Son had left, as long as he held his troops back, the Buddha’s Son would either die with the city or try to break out with his remaining forces.

Whatever choice the Buddha’s Son made, he had countermeasures ready.

Tonight, the Buddha’s Son must fall!

The great fire temporarily forced back the Northern Rong allied army.

As soldiers screamed and fled the sea of fire, Hai Du Aling led his army to form ranks outside the city. Drawing his sword, he swept his gaze around: “The holy city has fallen – these are mere trivial tricks! Control your horses! Form ranks! When the fire dies down, everyone charges with me!”

His voice rang like a great bell, his presence sharp and commanding, as if completely unafraid of the thunderous explosions in the city. The scattered tribal soldiers found their center of gravity and calmed down, gathering around him.

Just as the ranks regained order, several panic-stricken soldiers burst through the gap, shouting: “The Buddha’s Son knows sorcery! The Buddha’s Son is casting spells! Anyone who dares attack the holy city will surely face retribution!”

The soldiers’ hair stood on end.

Hai Du Aling flew into a rage, spurring his horse forward. His long sword fell, and several heads dropped to the ground. The headless bodies continued running forward for a moment before stumbling and falling.

“Tanmoluojia is merely the son of a Han slave! Anyone who dares disturb army morale will be executed without mercy!”

Hai Du Aling sat on his horse holding his sword horizontally as he turned and shouted.

The soldiers shuddered and lowered their heads, not daring to make a sound.

…

Sparks flew as the night wind grew scorching hot.

From the highest point in the holy city, Bisuo watched the dark mass of Northern Rong cavalry lined up guarding all exits outside the city, his brows tightly knitted: “Sure enough, Hai Du Aling didn’t attack in the chaos. His main force waits outside the city. At dawn, they’ll attack… Now the city gates can’t be blocked, we can only try to break out.”

With their few troops, breaking out meant certain death.

But if they didn’t break out, when Hai Du Aling entered the city, everyone would lose their heads.

Bisuo turned back, clasping his hands toward Tanmoluojia, “This servant will lead people in breaking out, pretending to capture Princess Wenzhao to draw away Hai Du Aling, letting him trade Chima for me. When he lets his guard down, I’ll seize the chance to assassinate him!”

Tanmoluojia stood at the cliff’s edge, his kasaya flying in the wind, looking down at the royal temple below, and shook his head.

“Too risky. Hai Du Aling’s forces won’t advance rashly. Leading troops out of the city would be like eggs striking stone.”

Bisuo clenched his fists, his expression grave.

Then could they only wait for death?

Tanmoluojia stood with hands behind his back, raising his head to gaze at the western sky.

The night sky was dyed red by the fierce flames. The enormous sounds of burning, explosions, shattering, and screaming rose and fell. Iron arrows shot toward the high sky, exploding into fireballs when they fell into the market wards, raising dancing tongues of flame like fire dragons.

Below him, monks had already directed the city’s people to hide in the temple. Days ago, the Western Province troops had withdrawn from the city walls under the pretense of protecting Yaoying, digging huge trenches and firebreaks around the royal temple, blocking the long streets to ensure the fire wouldn’t reach the royal temple while also hindering the Northern Rong allied army.

Half the city had been blown into ruins by their planted explosives. Fierce flames burned wildly, smoke filled the air, and the tribal soldiers who first attacked the city were swallowed by the sea of fire and collapsing debris, suffering heavy casualties.

However, Hai Du Aling’s forces hadn’t lost a single soldier. They waited outside the city for the great fire to die down.

The city gates were breached, their attempt to lure the enemy had failed, and all weapons were exhausted – they were meat on the chopping block, the enemy’s blade ready to fall at any moment for a merciless kill.

Life and death were but the blink of an eye away.

The people in the temple, after so many days of desperate struggle, had long prepared themselves for death. They sat closely clustered with family and friends, softly singing ballads and chanting Buddha’s name amid the thunderous sounds of burning, speaking parting words to loved ones about meeting again in the next life.

Bitter, grieving cries filled the entire royal temple.

Tanmoluojia turned to look at the steep stone steps between the cliff faces, where a slender figure had her back to him, busy rushing about the cliff.

Yaoying wore a military dress with her hair bound in silk ribbons, leading her retainers in directing the people to hide.

The royal temple was crowded with people, every Buddha hall and every cave filled. The ground trembled, smoke filled the air, and pagodas stood silently, their glazed spire tips illuminated by firelight as wind chimes tinkled.

In the shining red firelight, Yaoying lifted her head, meeting Tanmoluojia’s intent gaze, and smiled slightly.

Despite the sky full of fire and smoke, her disheveled appearance and exhaustion, her face streaked with sweat, and several black marks on her nose tip, she was still as beautiful as a flower.

Tanmoluojia walked toward Yaoying as she climbed the steps, quickly ascending the cliff. She pointed to a pagoda standing quietly in the corner.

“Master, you brought me here before, took me to worship Buddha and pray for me.”

She spoke with a smile, her tone light.

Just like that brilliantly lit night when he discovered his greed, anger, and delusion, and cut off all desires before Buddha.

She knew nothing then, holding a lamp, smiling as she stood on the stone steps talking to him.

Now, at this moment between life and death, danger imminent, her eyes bright and clear as she smiled and said, “Master, you brought me here before.”

She had always remembered every little moment between them.

In an instant, all their memories since meeting flooded his heart with overwhelming force, rushing into his mind, and making him sink deeper and deeper into them.

Tanmoluojia gazed at Yaoying, his heart churning like stormy waves, silent for a long while before raising his hand to brush the dust from her nose tip.

Yaoying smiled, wiped her face, took a lamp from her guard, and pulled his sleeve, walking with him into the pagoda.

Since the siege began, Tanmoluojia had sent all monks to care for the elderly, weak, women, and children. The temple hadn’t been cleaned for a long time, and the pagoda was pitch dark, empty, and cold.

Yaoying set down the lamp, knelt before the long table, pressed her palms together, and silently recited a few words.

Tanmoluojia bent down to help tie her cloak strings.

“Master.” Yaoying was exhausted. She leaned back against Tanmoluojia’s arm, thinking of the people who had just been embracing and crying together. “You believe in reincarnation. If there is a next life, what would you want to be?”

“Still be a monk?”

Her playfulness couldn’t hide the deep weariness in her voice.

Tanmoluojia looked down at her, raising his hand to let her rest against his chest, his monk’s robe sleeves covering her: “What about the Princess?”

Yaoying thought for a moment, then said seriously: “Just be a person again.”

Tanmoluojia paused slightly, a faint smile rippling across his deep, handsome features.

Then he too would just be a person.

“Would you want to know me again?” Yaoying covered her mouth as she yawned, asking.

Tanmoluojia held her, lowering his head to kiss her hair.

“Yes.”

Yaoying snuggled closer in his embrace, closing her eyes, murmuring as she nearly fell asleep: “Me too.”

Tanmoluojia tightened his arms around her.

The next life was too far away. In this life, he would never let go again.

The candlelight flickered as they quietly nestled together.

Outside the pagoda, fierce flames rolled wildly as ash and snow silently drifted down after the burning, half the sky red as fire.

…

The thunderous explosions gradually subsided. The flames rose like waves, and rising black smoke covered the entire holy city. The sky was dark, with only black smoke between heaven and earth, not a trace of daylight to be seen.

Within the holy city, the fire continued to burn on street corners and alleys. Markets, homes, and the royal palace were all razed to the ground. Broken stones and tiles were everywhere, covering countless scorched corpses beneath.

The Northern Rong allied army surrounded the city gates under Hai Du Aling’s leadership, their iron cavalry dense and murderous.

The wounded tribal soldiers cursed the royal court people’s treachery as they cleared the roads, also cursing Hai Du Aling’s cunning for sending them to die despite knowing it was a trap. When crackling burning sounds arose, everyone’s faces changed as they screamed and fled in all directions.

Hai Du Aling narrowed his eyes and raised his long sword: “A cornered beast’s struggle, nothing more. Today will be the Buddha’s Son’s death day! Revenge for the Wahan Khan!”

His subordinates drew their swords and roared.

Waves of furious roars rushed toward the clouds as if they could overturn heaven and earth.

On the high cliff, people heard the angry roars from outside the city, fighting exhaustion and hunger as they got up, waiting for the cruel enemy to charge up.

Yuanjue stood outside the pagoda, speaking softly: “King, Princess… the day is breaking soon, Hai Du Aling is about to attack.”

There was no sound from inside. He took a few steps in, mouth opening, but before he could speak, Tanmoluojia walked out from the darkness, his expression tranquil, bearing solemn, making a gesture for silence.

Yuanjue quickly closed his mouth, following behind him as they left the pagoda.

Tanmoluojia raised his eyes to look at the sky, saying softly: “She’s asleep and won’t wake for a while. Stay here and watch over her.”

“Yes.”

“If something goes wrong, take her west.”

Yuanjue’s eyelid twitched as he raised his head, saying blankly: “Yes.”

Tanmoluojia turned back, looking long and deep at the sleeping Yaoying before turning to leave. He stood on the cliff, taking the black buffalo horn bow Bisuo handed him, drew the bowstring with shoulders taut, and shot an arrow.

This arrow flew with magnificent force, the iron arrowhead swift as lightning, whistling as it split the thick smoke, flying toward the high sky.

The arrow tore through the black smoke, revealing a corner of the sky as a ray of daylight poured down.

Outside the city, Hai Du Aling raised his head, watching the arrow appearing and disappearing in the thick smoke, his brows tightly furrowed.

Black smoke filled all directions in an eerie silence, broken only by horse neighs and burning sounds.

Suddenly, a faint buzzing sound like urgent rain drifted through the wind.

Hai Du Aling’s eyes suddenly widened, disbelief and shock crossing his face as he reined his horse to turn back.

The buzzing stopped, then terrifying whooshing sounds arose as cold glints flickered in the black smoke, like countless stars in a summer night sky. The cold light grew brighter and closer, like falling meteors covering the unprepared allied cavalry.

Countless arrows blotted out the sky.

Hai Du Aling broke out in cold sweat, sharply pulling his reins to turn his horse, body leaning back as he shouted: “Raise shields! Lie flat!”

His voice trembled unusually.

At the same time, tens of thousands of iron arrows rose from the ground, using the black smoke as cover to weave a huge black net in the sky that covered the entire battlefield. They fell together, carrying fierce force as they viciously pierced through the Northern Rong allied soldiers’ bodies.

Screams arose everywhere.

The arrow rain fell wave after wave, surging forward unstoppably.

The tribal soldiers’ equipment was inferior to the Northern Rong cavalry’s. After last night’s fierce battle, with the holy city already breached, many had grown careless and hadn’t brought shields. Seeing the falling arrows, they were terrified, scrambling to flee. The iron arrows fell, piercing straight through their chests, pinning them viciously to the snowy ground.

The Northern Rong soldiers cried out in panic: “The Buddha’s Son’s crossbow formation! The Buddha’s Son’s crossbow formation!”

Back when the Wahan Khan had failed several times to take the city, countless Northern Rong soldiers had died under the crossbows. Every Northern Rong person knew the Buddha’s Son’s improved crossbow formation was incredibly powerful, specifically designed to counter Northern Rong cavalry!

Hai Du Aling’s eyes bulged as he gripped his sword handle: Impossible! Their primary target when attacking the city had been destroying the city’s crossbow carts. Not one crossbow cart remained in the holy city, half the city walls had collapsed, and the defending soldiers had long vanished. Where did this crossbow formation come from?

Sharp whistles came through the rolling thick smoke as another round of arrow rain fell. Iron arrows drew black lines across the high sky, falling with a rush, piercing through soldiers’ armor, breaking wooden round shields, and striking horses. The war horses neighed in pain, panicking and galloping wildly, violently throwing their riders. The battle formation was instantly broken as soldiers trampled each other, people and horses falling everywhere.

Hai Du Aling dodged an iron arrow flying through the air toward him and looked into the distance, his whole body shaking.

Day hadn’t broken yet, and all around was dark. The ground trembled as heavy, orderly hoofbeats approached from all directions. Lines of countless fierce figures rose and fell like blood-thirsty savage beasts, carrying an overwhelming force that could tear everything apart, galloping wildly like tides from different directions.

Across hills and plains, there were crowds everywhere.

They had different skin colors and different faces. Some were in neat military formation, some charged forward with heads down, some wore black mysterious armor, some silver bright armor, some had loose wild hair and wore animal skin coats, some wore heavy armor, and some were just herders with knives, iron hammers, or long spears. Everyone carried curved bows, shooting while galloping.

Flags representing different tribes waved in the wind.

Behind them, on the continuous mountain peaks, crossbow carts densely packed the flat slopes, arrows falling like locust rain.

“For the Buddha’s Son, kill!”

“Kill!”

“Kill!”

They shouted Tanmoluojia’s name, roaring in unison, their voices like mountain calls and sea waves, vast and mighty, their killing intent filling heaven and earth.

At this moment, as if responding to the tribal warriors’ shouts, killing cries also arose from the city as an unfamiliar, well-ordered force charged out from the holy city toward the Northern Rong allied army.

The Northern Rong battle formation fell silent as soldiers looked anxiously toward their commander Hai Du Aling.

Hai Du Aling’s heavy clothes were soaked with sweat and he nearly ground his teeth to pieces.

He had been guarding against the Western Army coming to the rescue, posting men at the passes to firmly block the Western Army outside Sandy City. Each time Tanmoluojia sent people to break out, they fled east, so he cut off this route, leaving Tanmoluojia no options.

His men guarded all the passes, sending back news from everywhere daily to block reinforcements. He had ensured he had no worries from behind.

Moreover, he had ordered his men to shoot down all messenger birds flying from the holy city. Tanmoluojia couldn’t possibly send out messages!

But where had this mighty rescue force come from, and how had Tanmoluojia communicated and coordinated so perfectly with them?

Could the Buddha’s Son know sorcery, able to command tribes thousands of miles away through the air?!

Hai Du Aling’s eyes bulged as his veins throbbed.

Using tactics against tactics, luring the snake from its hole, catching the turtle in the pot… it was all fake! Even defending the holy city to the death was fake!

The Buddha’s Son was willing to use himself as bait, use the entire holy city as bait, desperately defending it just to pin down his hundred thousand troops while waiting for reinforcements to arrive!

Last night when the Buddha’s Son lured the tribal soldiers into the city, it wasn’t to make him fall for a trap, but to deliberately blow up the holy city, using chaos, explosions, and thick smoke to cover the reinforcements! Holding him there, making the greedy tribal soldiers lower their guard, creating opportunities for the rescue force to approach the battlefield!

If he hadn’t guessed wrong, the Northern Rong allied army’s rear camp must have already been ambushed by the reinforcements. Those cowardly tribes had probably surrendered already, which was why no one had reported any strange movements these past two days.

Anger, fear, shock, hatred… Hai Du Aling was so furious his vision darkened. He pulled his reins, making an immediate decision as he gathered his subordinates: “Don’t panic! Form ranks! Retreat!”

His subordinate rushed over in shock, clasping his hands: “Prince, why retreat? Our losses aren’t great – we can still fight them!”

“Yes, we’ve breached the holy city. Let’s charge in now, plunder it, and capture the Buddha’s Son and Princess Wenzhao as hostages!”

The taste of blood rose in Hai Du Aling’s throat as he said hoarsely: “I underestimated Tanmoluojia. He hadn’t completely lost power. Look at those tribes, they all came for him… The Buddha’s Son had planned to encircle us before he even returned, defending stubbornly these days just to make me lower my guard. And Princess Wenzhao – the Western Army concentrating forces to try breaking through our eastern line was also part of their strategy!”

“The holy city was blown up… where did that force come from? Did they blast open the cliffs to let reinforcements in?”

A chill ran through his whole body. Hai Du Aling didn’t want to admit defeat, but he had no choice.

The allied army was loose sand. After the long siege, with frequent friction, the tribal soldiers increasingly didn’t follow his control. If Tanmoluojia had foreseen everything and set up mechanisms, then the plan must be flawless, accounting for everything.

He had to think of countermeasures quickly.

“Tanmoluojia used the holy city as bait, aiming for more than just lifting the siege. The city gates were wide open, walls destroyed – he wasn’t luring the enemy but destroying our retreat route! Letting reinforcements in! If we hesitate, we’ll likely be surrounded.”

“They’re closing the net!” Hai Du Aling made his decision. “Retreat!”

His subordinates exchanged glances, following close behind him as they spurred their horses to gallop, trying to break out.

…

On the cliff, Tanmoluojia looked down at the battlefield, his eyes signaling to Bisuo.

Bisuo waved the flag. Below the blown-up cliff north of the city, a force climbed up the towering cliff face. Led by Western Province troops, they passed through the trap-filled long streets, charged out of the holy city, split into two forces, and spread out along both sides of the city gates like a horizontal line.

Standing on the high cliff, Tanmoluojia could see most of the battlefield situation.

The reinforcements coming from all directions pressed toward the Northern Rong allied army as troops on the slopes kept shooting arrows, disrupting the allied formation and blocking their retreat route.

From the holy city’s direction, the horizontally spread forces gradually extended forward, approaching the Northern Rong allied army from both flanks.

Further away, within hundreds of miles, cavalry from different tribes kept rushing toward the holy city. Force after force formed an encirclement, unhurriedly shrinking the circle, slowly eliminating allied army units they encountered on the way.

A great net had been spread many days ago, slowly pushing in from hundreds of miles away like advancing walls, ready to destroy the hundred thousand troops Hai Du Aling had painstakingly gathered within this net.

To pacify chaos and let people live in peace and prosperity, this allied army had to be crushed.

Tanmoluojia released his longbow, drew his sword, and walked down the cliff.

The royal court soldiers stood up one by one, drawing their swords to follow him, their expressions wild and devout.

…

When Yaoying woke, killing cries shook the sky outside the city.

The space beside her was empty, a thick felt blanket covering her. She hurriedly rushed out of the pagoda to the cliff edge, gazing into the distance.

Yuanjue followed close behind her: “Princess, the king led troops to pursue Hai Du Aling. Please don’t worry.”

Yaoying found that tall figure galloping on horseback on the battlefield and nodded.

Outside the holy city, flags flew everywhere across the hills and plains as tribes arriving from different directions gradually closed the encirclement, trapping the allied army in the middle.

When Tanmoluojia’s figure appeared on the battlefield, a brilliant morning ray pierced through the black smoke, falling to enshroud him.

Wearing the brilliant sunlight, one man on one horse, galloped at the front of the formation, his monk’s robe flying, cold and solemn, magnificent and dignified.

Everyone stared at him, tears falling from their excitement.

A chieftain shouted: “The Buddha’s Son is our king!”

“We pledge loyalty not to the royal court, but to the Buddha’s Son!”

“The Buddha’s Son is king of kings! He is our Qur Khan!”

A feeling both sour and sharp surged through her heart as Yaoying’s eyes grew slightly wet.

All these tribes who had received Tanmoluojia’s kindness, and the royal court garrisons stationed in various places, had all come.

They came for Tanmoluojia.

Even though Tanmoluojia wasn’t the queen’s son, even though he and Sudan Gu were the same people, there were still many who truly respected and loved him, willing to follow him and die for him.

Just like Prajña.

His years of effort had never been in vain.

A surprised cry came from beside her as Yuanjue watched the battlefield nervously: “Hai Du Aling is too cunning! He’s hiding behind the tribal soldiers… he’s about to break out!”

Yaoying came back to her senses, her gaze sweeping around as her lips curled: “It doesn’t matter if Hai Du Aling breaks out…”

This time, Hai Du Aling had nowhere to escape.

…

A thousand miles away, in the suzerain state where Hai Du Aling had sought refuge.

Yang Qian stood on the city walls in full armor, heroic and vigorous as he gazed toward the royal court’s direction, wiping blood from his long sword.

Several hundred miles around Samarkand had submitted to the Western Army, and all Northern Rong remnants who fled there had been captured.

Hai Du Aling had borrowed several vassal tribes from his father-in-law, giving the Western Army the perfect opportunity for a major offensive.

Yang Qian sheathed his sword, patting the handle.

In this battle, on Princess Wenzhao’s orders, he had led a thousand-mile raid to crush the suzerain state backing Hai Du Aling in one stroke, intimidating dozens of large and small states around them, while completely opening up the trade routes as various tribes came to submit.

The Western Army had established prestige in one battle. From now on, whether north, west, or south, no force would dare provoke the Western Army. The Western Army could rest easy.

Let’s see who would dare shelter Hai Du Aling now!