Fierce winds raged and dust swirled through the air. Birds were almost nowhere to be seen, except for a few well-trained eagles that fearlessly circled high above the valley.

Several Northern Rong soldiers hid behind massive boulders on the mountainside, gazing into the distance. They wore dusty gray fur coats, and their bows, arrows, and sabers were all wrapped in cloth to prevent any reflection of light. They blended so perfectly with the surrounding rocks that even the eagles soaring above would have difficulty spotting them.

Below the ridge, a herd of wild oxen gathered to drink at a sheltered riverbank in the gorge.

The soldiers had been lying in ambush on the ridge for many days, seeing the same herd of wild oxen almost daily. One soldier, unable to bear his hunger any longer, took out a piece of dried milk curd and took two bites. The soldier beside him suddenly stirred and whispered in a low voice, “Enemy troops!”

Everyone immediately held their breath and looked toward the valley. In the vast horizon, through the dust, vague silhouettes could be seen floating in the distance. Soon, those moving silhouettes became clearer, bursting through the several-zhang-high dust clouds at an alarming speed, approaching their position. It was a cavalry unit wearing black armor, with black banners flying among their ranks.

A soldier ran down the mountain, leaped onto his warhorse, and galloped back to camp to report the military intelligence.

The Northern Rong hadn’t expected the Royal Court’s army to arrive so quickly, but they were well-prepared and remained calm. Soon, the deep sound of horns echoed through their camp, followed by thunderous battle cries and shouts. The Crown Prince led an advance guard of several hundred skilled mounted archers, charging magnificently out of the main camp.

On a vast plain carved by several rivers south of Sam Valley, the two cavalry forces soon clashed. The Northern Rong, well-rested and with fresh horses, immediately launched a high-speed charge. Mo Biduo, exceptionally brave and commanding more troops than the Northern Rong cavalry, led his tribal warriors fearlessly into battle, engaging in fierce combat.

Blade edges reflected cold gleams in the dusky light.

Facing the Northern Rong cavalry’s charge, Mo Biduo didn’t retreat a single step. Whenever soldiers showed signs of cowardice, he would immediately roar at them to maintain formation. After several failed charges, unable to break through their defense, the Northern Rong cavalry began to retreat, splitting into left and right wings to attempt an encirclement of Mo Biduo. Mo Biduo led his guard in a sword charge, keeping his troops condensed, avoiding several volleys of arrows from the Northern Rong. His entire force stretched out like a nail, driving straight into the heart of the Northern Rong battle formation.

After several rounds of intense fighting, the Northern Rong cavalry swiftly withdrew.

In head-on cavalry combat, retreating often affects morale and can lead to total collapse—it was extremely unwise.

Mo Biduo ordered his subordinates to reform their ranks. His brown eyes swept around, observing the surrounding terrain. Gritting his teeth, he ordered his soldiers to pursue.

On a distant hillside, an eagle swooped down and landed on Tanmoluojia’s shoulder, pecking at its wing with its beak.

Beside him, Bisuo rode his horse forward a few steps to better observe the situation on the battlefield. Watching Mo Biduo indeed lead his soldiers in pursuit of the Northern Rong cavalry, his expression grew grave.

Fifty paces… one hundred paces…

Amid his tense breathing, a strange whistling came from the front. The retreating Northern Rong cavalry, having already skillfully changed to fresh horses, uniformly turned around and charged toward the pursuing Mo Biduo. Several hundred men quickly divided into small teams, coordinating with practiced familiarity, rapidly dividing the battlefield into sections. Mo Biduo’s warhorses were already showing signs of fatigue, and their orderly formation was instantly fragmented as both sides engaged in bitter combat.

Bisuo, on the hillside, sighed, “The Northern Rong indeed feigned retreat.”

After watching for a while, his palms sweating, he asked Tanmoluojia, “Should we send reinforcements?”

Tanmoluojia shook his head, his deep emerald eyes showing neither joy nor sorrow behind his mask.

Bisuo asked no further.

On the plain, Mo Biduo gradually fell into a disadvantageous position. Every time his troops tried to reform their ranks, they were cut off by the Northern Rong cavalry. The howling wind carried the thick smell of blood through the dust. He spat out a mouthful of sand, pulled the reins, and led the subordinates still close to him in breaking through the Northern Rong’s encirclement.

“Retreat!”

The soldiers blew the horn signaling retreat, and the group withdrew in disarray. The Northern Rong pursued relentlessly, chasing them to the narrow valley before finally withdrawing their troops.

Mo Biduo charged back to the main camp hidden on the other side of the gorge, his body covered in blood, and knelt to request punishment, his face full of shame.

Before departing, the Regent had told him this battle was only to probe the Northern Rong’s strength, and there was no need to penetrate deep into enemy lines. After repelling the Northern Rong’s first attack, he should have proceeded cautiously rather than rashly pressing forward, leading to thousands of men being chased like cattle and sheep by the Northern Rong mounted archers.

Tanmoluojia gestured for him to rise and spoke slowly: “In an army, there are both the brave and the timid, but whether brave or timid, they are all soldiers loyal to the Royal Court.”

He raised his eyes, looking around, his gaze passing over the face of every commander in the tent.

“Facing Northern Rong cavalry, the brave will charge forward courageously, but charging carries the risk of being surrounded. As for the timid, they will lose morale and shrink back.”

The tent fell so silent that a pin drop could be heard.

Tanmoluojia continued slowly: “Commanding formations, arranging tactics, making the brave and the timid work together—allowing the brave to charge without being surrounded and the timid to hold firm without dragging down the army’s formation—this is a commander’s responsibility.”

His gaze returned to Mo Biduo’s face.

“The brave are where morale lies, and you, Prince, are among the brave.”

Hearing his words, the commanders fell silent for a long while, seeming to grasp something. Mo Biduo frowned in thought and wiped away the blood on his cheeks, his brown eyes rekindling with fighting spirit.

On the first day, after the Northern Rong’s minor victory, various noble chiefs rushed to request battle, urging Khagan Wahan to lead the main army in a direct assault.

Khagan Wahan firmly rejected everyone’s suggestions. The noble chiefs complained extensively, and someone composed a song mocking him for fearing the Buddha’s Son and not daring to take a single step into the Royal Court’s territory. The soldiers spread the song widely.

Several princes, furious, killed some of the singers who spread the song and requested Khagan Wahan to concentrate forces to attack the Royal Court.

Khagan Wahan remained unmoved, and on the second day, still only dispatched small forces.

Facing the Northern Rong’s repeated provocations, the Royal Court successively sent out several tribal cavalry units to engage, while their main force remained stationary. The Northern Rong became increasingly convinced that the Royal Court’s preparations were hasty. They had already cleared the surrounding tribes, essentially creating a scorched earth situation, and believed they could directly approach the city walls.

“What exactly is the Khagan afraid of? How can the Divine Wolf stop advancing just because of fear of the Royal Court’s Buddha’s Son?”

Repeatedly confronted by noble chiefs and his sons, Khagan Wahan chopped down the desk before him with one stroke of his blade, shouting: “The Royal Court excels at defending cities, while we are not skilled at siege warfare. Their cities are fortified, their walls solid, and their weapons and provisions abundant. We’ve come from afar—if we conduct a prolonged siege, we’ll end up like last time, unable to persist for even a few months, forced to retreat ingloriously due to lack of water and provisions. We must lure the Royal Court’s main force to Sam Valley!”

The Crown Prince asked dubiously, “Will the Buddha’s Son concentrate his forces to attack Sam Valley?”

Khagan Wahan sheathed his blade and took several breaths, “He will.”

The Buddha’s Son, like himself, faced heavy internal pressure and needed to resolve external threats. Moreover, the Buddha’s Son had shown the courage to lead armies against him since the age of thirteen. Now that he had consolidated military power, he would surely want to seize the opportunity for a decisive battle with the Northern Rong. They had been at a standoff for many years—the Buddha’s Son understood him, and he understood the Buddha’s Son.

His eldest son pondered for a moment, then clapped his hands and smiled, his eyes brightening: “Father Khagan, so you’ve been meticulously planning all along! Haidu Aling has gone to request reinforcements—when the Royal Court’s main force is all drawn to Sam Valley, isn’t he going to launch a surprise attack on the Royal Court? He’s most skilled at surprise attacks. If he can penetrate directly into the Holy City and kill the Buddha’s Son, no matter how many troops the Buddha’s Son deploys, without him, they’ll be just a flock of sheep for us to slaughter!”

Khagan Wahan remained silent.

The princes looked at each other in confusion. Their father and Haidu Aling had conspired to create such a grand scheme, yet hadn’t breathed a word of it to them?

“Father Khagan, why didn’t you tell us earlier?”

The sons’ complaints carried a hint of resentment.

Khagan Wahan glanced at his sons: “If I had told you earlier, would the Royal Court’s army have come so quickly?”

The sons dared not argue, but asked: “Then has Aling already begun attacking the Holy City?”

“No.” Khagan Wahan shook his head, “It’s too early now. Aling has set up his ambush, and he’ll only launch his attack when the Royal Court’s main force is fully committed to Sam Valley.”

By then, the Royal Court’s main force would be trapped on the battlefield of Sam Valley, completely unable to aid the Holy City.

With the Holy City surrounded, the Royal Court’s army would surely panic—that would be the best time to eliminate them.

…

In the following days, the Royal Court and Northern Rong sent out tribal cavalry to probe each other. When the Northern Rong discovered the location of the Royal Court’s main camp, they began to increase their forces. The Royal Court responded by sending more troops, with both sides’ main forces gradually entering the battlefield.

The two armies carefully probed and arranged their formations with great patience, advancing steadily and calmly. Before long, Bisuo personally led troops in a surprise attack on one of the Northern Rong’s camps. Ten thousand central army cavalry in blue shirts and white robes galloped through the valley, their hoofbeats like mountains crumbling and earth splitting, their snow-white gold-trimmed banners flying everywhere.

Khagan Wahan stood on a high ridge, seeing the imposing Bisuo at the front of the battle formation, his sharp eyes flashing with a gleam of light.

Ashina had arrived—he was the Buddha’s Son’s right-hand man. The Royal Court’s main force was all in Sam Valley now.

This would be their burial ground.

Khagan Wahan called for his falconer: “Send a message to Aling—he can begin.”

He then called several of his sons and instructed them: “Take two thousand men and quietly withdraw from Sam Valley. A hundred li away, there are several forces—to join with them and have them guard the few passages around the outer edges of the gorge.”

The sons were extremely excited: Father Khagan had indeed prepared early, setting up ambush troops. Now the Royal Court’s army truly had no escape, even with wings!

The thunderous sound of war drums rose, and a great battle began to unfold.

…

Meanwhile, a thousand li away at the foot of layer upon layer of mountain peaks, Haidu Aling, wrapped in thick fur coats, led five thousand elite troops climbing steep mountain cliffs. Along their path, there were no signs of human habitation or animal tracks. Several hundred soldiers had fallen from ropes and been crushed to death, and several hundred more had died from cold and hunger.

By the end of this month, they had finally conquered the snow-peaked cliffs and valley ravines that no one had ever traversed before, circumventing the Royal Court’s tight defensive lines to quietly approach the Royal Court.

Haidu Aling sat mounted on a cliff, looking down at the distant towering cliffs. Under the azure sky, he seemed able to see the majestic Buddhist pagodas of the Holy City.

A messenger eagle pierced through the clouds, letting out several sharp cries before landing on his arm.

Haidu Aling removed the bronze tube and read Khagan Wahan’s letter. His lips curled into a smile, golden eyes flashing with dark light like a wolf about to hunt, his gaze cold and grim. He raised his horsewhip, pointing directly toward the Holy City: Su Dan Gu was dead, and the Buddha’s Son’s army was far away in Sam Valley—this time, no one could stop him from unleashing carnage.

With one gesture from him, the elite troops behind him quietly mounted their horses, and tightened their reins, preparing to follow their leader in trampling the Holy City.

…

In Sam Valley, the Northern Rong’s military banners and the Royal Court’s snow-white flags danced in the dust as the two armies, like surging floods, ground against each other. The earth trembled, and the valley howled.

After probing and confronting each other, both sides spread out their formations and deployed their main forces.

The Northern Rong allied army numbered seventy thousand, the Royal Court’s army fifty thousand. Both sides were divided into a central army, left and right-wing cavalry, and rear guard. When the armies faced each other, they stretched for several li, filling the entire valley with a dark mass of humanity. Spears stood like a forest, blade edges gleamed like snow, archers were densely packed, and armor flashed with cold light.

Bisuo, wearing silver armor, led his soldiers in bitter combat. Behind him, the infantry was arranged in staggered, orderly battle formations, with cavalry following behind. The Northern Rong, predominantly cavalry, launched waves of small-scale attacks, their archers releasing volleys of arrows, forcing the Royal Court army to contract their formation.

The two armies had been fighting bitterly for days, both aware of each other’s strength, gradually wearing down the other’s combat power, with flesh and blood staining the earth below.

As dusk fell, the vanguards of both armies cautiously withdrew behind their respective lines.

After days of intense fighting, soldiers on both sides showed signs of fatigue.

A battle report arrived at the felt tent, and Khagan Wahan clapped his hands and laughed heartily, dispelling the gloom of recent days: “Aling has begun attacking the Holy City!”

The princes were overjoyed and immediately passed down orders for the camp’s soldiers to spread this news.

“The Royal Court soldiers revere the Buddha’s Son as a deity, chanting his dharma name before battle. Tell them the Buddha’s Son is dead—completely crush their spirit!”

The cry spread from the main camp, soon echoing throughout the entire encampment.

Several hundred Northern Rong cavalry shouted in unison all night from the hills near the Royal Court’s main camp.

“The Holy City has fallen! The Buddha’s Son is dead!”

When the Royal Court soldiers heard the Northern Rong cavalry’s shouts clearly, their souls scattered in terror. Soldiers ran wildly through the camp, wailing and crying, their screams echoing long in the night sky.

The next day, Khagan Wahan did not rashly launch a major attack but instead continued the deadlock and skirmishes with the Royal Court army as in previous days. That night, the Northern Rong cavalry repeated their tactics, standing on the hills shouting that the Buddha’s Son was dead, chanting sutras to deliver his soul.

The following day, scouts reported that the Royal Court’s main camp had nearly erupted in chaos the previous night. Soldiers were demanding to return to the Holy City quickly to protect the Buddha’s Son. Bisuo had managed to calm the soldiers, saying he had already sent troops back to the Royal Court to gather information.

On the third day, Khagan Wahan sent out captured prisoners from tribes affiliated with the Royal Court, ordering them to spread the news of the Buddha’s Son’s death.

The Royal Court’s main camp was in turmoil, no longer maintaining its initial fierce fighting spirit and strict military discipline.

During this time, scouts continuously departed from the main camp, heading toward the direction of the Sand City. Several days later, several Royal Court light cavalry scouts came galloping back with terrible news: Haidu Aling had launched a surprise attack on the Holy City. The Northern Rong had previously attacked the Royal Court’s vassal tribes, and each tribe was too preoccupied with their affairs to send aid. The Holy City was in danger—the army must rush to its defense immediately.

When the news reached the Northern Rong camp, the noble chiefs rubbed their hands in anticipation: “Khagan, the time has come!”

Khagan Wahan read the battle report delivered by the messenger eagle, his head covered in sweat. The Royal Court’s military strength was limited—trap their main force in Sam Valley, slowly exhaust them, and even if they failed, the Royal Court would never again have the ability to counterattack the Northern Rong.

He donned his armor, took up his long blade, and strode out of the felt tent with great steps.

Piercing horns echoed through the valley as the Northern Rong gathered all their forces and launched an attack at dawn. Supporting cavalry frantically charged the Royal Court’s battle formations while composite bows released wave after wave of arrows. Soldiers hacked and killed while shouting that the Buddha’s Son was dead. The Royal Court’s military morale scattered, unable to withstand the surging waves of cavalry charges as their defensive lines were stripped away layer by layer.

When the red sun climbed to mid-sky, the Northern Rong cavalry tore open a gap between the Royal Court’s center and left wing. The Northern Rong army immediately advanced like a sharp steel blade, stabbing straight into the gap, attacking the Royal Court army’s left wing, and forcing their center into a prepared pocket formation. Bisuo noticed something was wrong and rallied morale, leading his soldiers to break out of the pocket formation and retreat in the direction of the gorge.

When half the Royal Court soldiers had escaped the gorge, the long-hidden Northern Rong soldiers emerged en masse. Their soldiers’ superior horsemanship allowed them to shoot arrows while charging down the slopes, launching wave after wave of attacks. The wilderness and valley were filled with the sharp whistling of arrows piercing through the air.

Just as Khagan Wahan had predicted, the Royal Court soldiers collapsed completely, howling like ghosts and wolves as they burst out of the gorge.

The Northern Rong army advanced step by step, trapping the Royal Court army deep in the gorge. Spears and blades stood like a forest as blood sprayed. Khagan Wahan’s sons excitedly charged forward to kill, while Mo Biduo and Bisuo, covered in blood, seemed about to lose their hold.

The great wind swept through, dust flying everywhere, the battlefield in complete chaos. Khagan Wahan concentrated intently on the battlefield, trying to distinguish friend from foe in the dust.

Dust also floated up from the ridge.

Khagan Wahan’s heart tightened, and he called to his son: “Do we still have ambush troops on the mountain?”

His son replied: “Father Khagan, all the ambush troops have come out to intercept the Royal Court army…”

Before he could finish speaking, Khagan Wahan’s eyes suddenly widened.

A snow-white banner with gold trim slowly emerged from the other side of the ridge, followed by more banners sprouting like bamboo shoots after rain. The banners flew in the wind as undulating lines like waves appeared—formations of Royal Court cavalry in iron armor, silently emerging from all directions to surround the entire battlefield.

With their appearance, commanders like Bisuo and Mo Biduo signaled their guards to wave flags, directing their soldiers. The previously fleeing Royal Court main force quickly regrouped, pulling back in an orderly and disciplined manner.

On the ridge, layers of iron-clad cavalry appeared, with archers standing rank upon rank.

The deep sound of horns blew, and a warrior in dark robes emerged from among the knights, riding to a high point where he reined in his horse and slowly removed the mask from his face, revealing an incredibly ugly visage.

Among the thousands of troops, he sat astride his horse with blade drawn, his deep cold emerald eyes looking down on the valley, killing intent fully revealed, his presence as magnificent as the endless mountain ranges behind him.

The battlefield suddenly fell silent.

A pressure that made people unconsciously tense and breathless spread out as tens of thousands of Royal Court soldiers looked up at the warrior’s figure, their faces showing wild joy.

“The Regent!”

The Regent was still alive!

Su Dan Gu wasn’t dead!

The Royal Court soldiers were reborn with joy, wild with excitement, while the Northern Rong commanders stood dumbfounded as if struck by lightning from a clear sky, their souls fleeing in terror.

In an instant, the situation between the two armies reversed dramatically—the Royal Court army’s morale soared while the Northern Rong army fell into confusion.

Khagan Wahan’s whole body trembled in disbelief: Su Dan Gu was still alive!

Not only was he alive, but he had held back until this moment to appear! Had he been there all along, even when the Royal Court’s main camp was nearly breached by the Northern Rong? Where had the Royal Court troops on the ridge come from?

Scouts had been constantly monitoring the Royal Court army’s movements, yet they hadn’t discovered that Su Dan Gu had hidden twenty thousand troops…

As various conjectures rose in his mind, Khagan Wahan broke out in a cold sweat. From Su Dan Gu’s death onward, everything had been Tanmoluojia’s scheme. He thought he had been maneuvering against Tanmoluojia, successfully luring the Royal Court’s main force into Sam Valley, but he had been stepping into this trap one step at a time.

Was deliberately revealing weaknesses to lure Haidu Aling into attacking the Holy City also part of Tanmoluojia’s strategy?

Had the siege of the Holy City been within his expectations as well?

A weary expression crossed Khagan Wahan’s aged face as he once again strongly felt his age and fatigue.

Could it be that the tribal shaman spoke true—that Tanmoluojia was destined to be his nemesis in this life?

Su Dan Gu drew out that long blade. “The Buddha’s Son is unharmed.”

The cavalry beside him roared in response, and the Royal Court soldiers in the valley roared back with fanatical eyes: “The Buddha’s Son is unharmed!”

Khagan Wahan’s sons recovered from their shock and galloped to the Khagan’s side.

“Father Khagan, I’ll hold off Su Dan Gu!”

Khagan Wahan shook his head with a bitter smile: “We have lost.”

As the Buddha’s Son’s dharma protector, Su Dan Gu had “returned from death,” descending from the heavens. The Royal Court army’s morale had reached unprecedented heights—at this moment, they faced an invincible army.

…

The battle was devastating, with the gorge almost filled with corpses. Northern Rong personal guards raised their shields to escort Khagan Wahan away.

As subordinates fell one by one from their horses, Khagan Wahan’s face turned ashen. Several thousand Royal Court cavalry blocked their escape route while his sons and their guards darted left and right, trying to break through the encirclement.

“The Sand Sea Road! Jin Bo is guarding the Sand Sea Road!”

Khagan Wahan shouted, not knowing if his sons could hear him, as he raised his arm to gather the remnants of his forces.

The Northern Rong elite cavalry quickly regrouped, forcibly tearing open a small gap and clustering around Khagan Wahan to break through the encirclement. After a brief reorganization, they charged toward another exit.

The Royal Court army also had troops lying in ambush at the valley mouth. Having just passed through the camp, Khagan Wahan was prepared and ordered his soldiers to drive the slaves forward.

The civilian slaves captured from various tribes wailed and dared not advance. Northern Rong cavalry charged forward, their long blades mercilessly slashing into the crowd. Blood sprayed as heads rolled on the ground, and the slaves fled forward crying, rushing desperately toward the valley mouth.

The Royal Court ambush troops at the valley mouth looked at each other in dismay, their drawn bows taut with arrows aimed at the crowd, but they dared not lose them.

Several light cavalry galloped down the slope, meeting the pursuing Bisuo, and hurriedly reported: “This subordinate dares not give the order and must request the Regent’s instructions on whether to shoot.”

Bisuo’s eyelids twitched.

If they were shot, the crime of massacring civilians would undoubtedly fall on the Regent’s shoulders, and he would be guilt-ridden for life. If they didn’t shoot, letting Khagan Wahan escape would earn him the curse of releasing a tiger back to the mountains.

The purpose of this campaign was to weaken the Northern Rong, consuming their main force so they would be unable to attack the Royal Court again. Several of Khagan Wahan’s sons had already died in the gorge, with only Khagan Wahan escaping—the Northern Rong would surely fragment…

Bisuo’s thoughts raced. “Wait for the civilians to pass before shooting!”

He would make this decision for Luojia, taking the responsibility for letting Khagan Wahan escape upon himself.

However, when they reached the valley mouth, they discovered soldiers had already loosed arrows in panic. As the rain of arrows fell, over a dozen slaves running at the front fell. Bisuo shouted for the soldiers to stop shooting.

Chaos erupted at the valley mouth as the Northern Rong cavalry, noticing the soldiers had stopped shooting, hid behind the slaves while continuing to drive them forward and ruthlessly kill them, using the dead slaves’ bodies to block the valley mouth and obstruct the pursuing Royal Court troops.

The slaves were unarmed and completely defenseless.

Bisuo trembled all over as he led soldiers in directing the slaves to slow down and withdraw from the valley mouth, but the slaves were already terrified beyond reason and wouldn’t stop, surging forward in a panic. The valley mouth was narrow, and people trampled and crushed each other. Those who fell could not rise again—it became a human hell.

Cries of anguish filled the entire valley.

By the time the Northern Rong cavalry escaped in the chaos, the valley mouth was piled with corpses.

Bisuo closed his eyes briefly and called his guards to clean up the battlefield: “Don’t let the Regent see…”

As the words left his mouth, dust flew up as Tanmoluojia’s cold, lean figure appeared in the distance.

Bisuo heaved a long sigh.

The slave captives were mostly civilians that the Northern Rong had captured from various tribes—they should not have been drawn into the war.

Tanmoluojia looked around and ordered some soldiers to stay behind to rescue the wounded civilians while continuing to pursue Khagan Wahan’s remnant forces.

Bisuo followed him.

Tanmoluojia said softly: “Only by ending the war quickly can we prevent civilians from suffering such a fate of being used as pawns.”

Using killing to end killing—this was the path he had chosen in these chaotic times. Only by pacifying the chaos could scenes of such unprecedented horror be prevented from happening again.

Bisuo acknowledged this.

Ahead, Tanmoluojia suddenly swayed, letting out a suppressed groan as his brows furrowed tightly.

“Regent?”

Bisuo was startled and looked at him anxiously.

Tanmoluojia waved his hand, indicating he was fine.

Bisuo dared not speak, but his palms grew secretly sweaty.

A faint red mark appeared between Tanmoluojia’s brows as his eyes darkened.

…

In the Battle of Sam Valley, the Royal Court dealt a crushing defeat to the Northern Rong, capturing over twenty thousand Northern Rong soldiers. Three of Khagan Wahan’s sons died in the valley, while Khagan Wahan himself escaped through the valley under the protection of his remaining forces, fleeing toward the Sand Sea Road. The Northern Rong noble chiefs fled in panic, running wildly without daring to return even to their ordu, escaping directly toward Yizhou in the east.

After this battle, although Khagan Wahan was still alive, the fragmentation of the Northern Rong was now inevitable.

…

After the battle, as Bisuo led soldiers in cleaning up the battlefield, a messenger delivered a letter from Sand City.

“General, a letter from the Sand City commander… Princess Wenzhao is not in Sand City.”

Bisuo froze and opened the letter.

“Where has the Princess gone?”

After reading the letter, his heart trembled.

Li Yaoying had disappeared without a trace, and the Sand City commander didn’t know where she was.

“General, Yuanjue received the letter first and wasn’t sure whether to tell the Regent this news.”

Bisuo clutched the letter tightly, momentarily at a loss.

In times of war and chaos, occasionally losing contact and disappearing was quite normal, but Li Yaoying had been with the Sand City garrison, and Sand City was safe—she wouldn’t have vanished without reason.

After much hesitation, he tucked away the letter.

“I’ll go see the Regent.”