Han Zhe’s war horse arrived at the camp entrance when a drunken voice came over asking who he was. Dan Ying didn’t answer. His body flew up from the war horse, one hand gripping the camp’s main gate, and with both legs drawn in, he had already vaulted over the gate. A drunken burly man was just about to howl when the sword scabbard heavily struck his temple. His eyes went black and he softly collapsed to the ground.

Dan Ying made no attempt to hide. He strode in with head held high. The imagined obstruction and fighting didn’t appear. He walked all the way to the central tent without anyone asking who he was, though three or four invited him to drink.

Standing in the open ground, he surveyed Xi Tong’s camp and discovered this was a group of useless people. They had already had enough of days spent constantly hiding and concealing themselves in the Great Tang. Having finally found a place where they could relax, they had thoroughly lost their vigilance, only thinking about indulging themselves without restraint, then waiting for Boss Xi Tong to lead them to plunder and burn and kill, properly venting all the accumulated resentment of these years.

Once on the battlefield, they would certainly fight without regard for their lives. After fighting desperately, they would become the most terrifying beasts. Such people could manage well enough when fighting with the wind at their backs, but once they encountered difficult stalemate warfare, they would also be the first to abandon ship and flee for their lives. This was determined by mountain bandits’ inherent nature. For Liu Fang to abandon them as scapegoats was truly most appropriate.

“Have you come to kill me?” Xi Tong’s voice came from behind.

“No. If I wanted to kill you, by this time you should be a dead man.” Dan Ying answered, forcefully suppressing his rage.

“This is a military camp. For you to reach here must have taken considerable effort. Come in for a cup of wine.” Xi Tong remained hospitable as always.

“It took no effort. I just knocked out one person when I vaulted the main gate, then walked step by step to here. Just now I was thinking—if you didn’t appear here before I counted to three, I would truly kill you. Dying by my hand is better than dying by barbarian hands. At least I would give you a decent funeral, and every year there would be wine and offerings for you.”

Xi Tong scratched the back of his head and said awkwardly: “The brothers have just stabilized. That they have somewhat less vigilance is only natural. For them to keep watch on you—that’s impossible.”

“Pack your belongings and immediately follow the main force to leave. You only have one hour of preparation time. Old Xi, the one in charge here isn’t Yun Ye, it’s Liu Fang. Yun Ye won’t harm you, but with Liu Fang, who can say? She’s a military strategist—in her eyes there’s only victory or defeat, no personal feelings. Leave quickly. Either go together with us, or immediately find a place to hide. War is about to arrive, and we bear the brunt of it.”

Dan Ying saw that woman with disheveled hair behind Xi Tong and couldn’t help but say again: “The environment here is even more complex than the Great Tang. If you want to survive, bring out that vigor you had back in those years. If you dare hesitate for even a moment, your only outcome is death.”

Watching that woman’s face appear even paler in the moonlight, Dan Ying turned and left. Taking quick steps over the camp gate, the sound of horse hooves grew increasingly distant.

“Leave quickly!” Jiuniang trembled all over with terror, shrieking as she urged Xi Tong to leave quickly. She had already realized what kind of predicament this group of theirs faced.

Xi Tong’s orders were transmitted downward, but executing them presented great trouble. There were always people coming to ask Xi Tong why they had to depart at night—couldn’t they wait until daybreak?

When Xi Tong led his children out three li, there were still drunken fellows in the camp howling songs.

The Turks’ speed was somewhat faster than Liu Fang had anticipated. His cavalry had just left Suiye City when large groups of cavalry smashed into his residence in the city. The entire city was brightly lit. The army hurrying from Talas entered the city, and the first thing they did was prepare to capture and kill Anji. Bolu objected twice and was scolded by the leading general, helplessly lowering his head.

The army rapidly poured out from the city and rushed toward the camp outside the city. Han Zhe didn’t follow Liu Fang’s great army in action. He simply vanished toward the west. Only Xi Tong’s forces had their tail bitten by the Turks in a killing pursuit. After losing thirty percent of their men, they finally shook off the Turks. At this time, the mountain bandits following beside him numbered fewer than one thousand.

Without provisions, without supplies—at this point Xi Tong instead became cheerful. This was the true essence of mountain bandits! Now they would have to rely on the steel blade in hand to make a living on this land. No food or drink required plundering, no clothes required plundering, needing women also required plundering. In short, one word: “plunder,” and that was right.

If he led troops to battle, he would be played like a monkey by others. But now needing only to plunder, everyone here was an expert. The map given by the Yun family was most precise. Even puddles were marked out. The cities here were extremely crude, extremely convenient for plundering. Moreover, going out from this mountain valley was the Sassanian Kingdom. Such plundering would cause him no psychological burden.

Jiuniang had just cried her nose red and was about to speak dispiriting words when she was tossed onto a horse’s back by Xi Tong. Gripping his horizontal blade, he said to the remaining bandits: “Lads, now is when we men show our might. Going out from here is a small town. First plunder tonight’s food before we talk further.”

When eight hundred horse bandits entered the town fortress, they couldn’t help but freeze. The fortress before their eyes was already scorched earth. Don’t mention living people—there wasn’t even a living chicken. Fortunately, grain remained. Xi Tong looked with melancholy at the divine king pattern painted on the fortress’s main gate and knew Han Zhe had beaten him to it by one step.

The Sassanian Kingdom had already declined. A hundred years ago, this country still had the courage to unite with the Western Turks to jointly attack the Dashi people. Ever since Muhammad established the theocratic Dashi Kingdom, the Sassanians could only defend singly. They were no match for the Dashi people wielding curved blades. They retreated all the way, finally only able to perch on this desolate plateau.

Perhaps it was precisely the traditional friendship between Sassanian and Turkic people, and the cruel reality facing the Sassanians, that enabled the Turks at this most critical juncture to change their own thinking, believing that fleeing held no prospects whatsoever, thereby wanting to make a final strike.

The Dashi people were hungry wolves, while the Great Tang behind them was a fierce tiger. The hungry wolves were at their side, while the fierce tiger was in a distant place. This gave them a misconception, believing the Eastern Expedition had more prospects than the Western Expedition.

Weak national strength left them powerless to defend their vast territory. The citizens could only rely on Zoroastrianism to organize their own defense teams to protect their own safety. Such guards could deal with ordinary bandits. Encountering large forces like Han Zhe’s, they could only helplessly fall.

Having eaten their fill, Xi Tong led the mounted troops to continue on the road. After analyzing Han Zhe’s direction, he chose an opposite road, believing Yezhi City was an extremely good choice.

Liu Fang led the army to distant Tokharistan. Most of her subordinates had family members in Suiye City. Once too close to Suiye City, they might very well be controlled by others. Therefore, the entire army advancing to Tokharistan was the best choice.

The army on the wilderness was boundless and endless. A grand pledge ceremony was underway. Bolu’s uncle Tushi bared his upper body and used a small knife to cut wounds all over his body. Several Turks used golden bowls to catch Tushi’s fresh blood and smeared it on Tengri’s totem. The beautiful queen consort, except for her head, had already been steamed and placed on an enormous wooden platter, tears seemingly still flowing on her face.

“Heavenly god! I devote everything I have to offer to you, only wishing to obtain your protection. The descendants of the Golden Wolf have already reached a dead end. This is our final battle. If we fail, we will no longer have beautiful women, gold and silk, or plump lambs to present to you. Your temple will also become desolate. Heavenly god! Protect your descendants so they can win every battle, take back our pastures and cattle and sheep. Kill the utterly evil Tang people.” Tushi wiped the blood on his face. The drumstick in his hand heavily struck the cowhide drum. Over a hundred Tang people were pushed onto the altar with cries and wails. Their heads were severed and dropped into the large pit ahead.

“God! I offer you my blood. I offer you the most beautiful woman. I offer you ninety-nine enemy heads. Once again I beseech to obtain your blessing.”

In the rumbling drum sounds, a white yak was killed. More than ten shamans wearing beast skins and holding skull staffs stared without blinking at the blood flowing from the white yak, wanting to know what kind of pattern this blood could ultimately gather into on the ground.

The dazzlingly red blood gradually pooled on the ground into a small lake. The shamans cheered, one after another cutting their own cheeks and mixing their blood in as well. Then they danced in circles around this small blood pool.

“Elder, have we definitely won?” Bolu stood on tiptoe, anxiously watching those shamans and quietly asking the elder.

“Bolu, remember this: the gods dwell in your heart. When confused, asking the gods is not as good as asking your own true heart.” The elder’s face full of wrinkles showed only bitterness. After this battle, the Turks would truly have no more retreat. Either victory or annihilation. His gaze fell on Bolu. He paused. The Turkic wolf clan could not be annihilated. At least they couldn’t place all their bets on advancing east. As a defeated warrior, he understood all too well the terrifying nature of Tang armies.

Su Dingfang’s five hundred elite cavalry could break through the Western Turks’ forty thousand troops, and moreover, they were invincible as they crisscrossed the battle formation. Thinking of that battle at Zikou, the elder became incomparably resolute.

“Even the most precious allies aren’t as important as one’s own survival.” He muttered to himself, then quietly said to Bolu: “We’ll stay behind to look after the tribesmen. Let’s give the honor of charging to those true warriors.”

“Elder, we’ll be laughed at!” Bolu’s eyes widened in disbelief at his own ears.

“Only the living have the qualification to mock others. Dead people are just a pile of rotten meat. Bolu, I would rather charge forward myself than have you go to the most dangerous place.” The elder pulled Bolu’s hand and left the sacrifice site. Leading his own army, he yielded the left-hand position that could most display honor. Immediately, other Turkic armies filled that small blank space tightly.

On the distant mountain, Qu Zhuo released the three goshawks from the cage. He only hoped they could deliver the message to Chang’an and Beiting…