The Demon Lords-Chapter 573 - 70 Roll_1

After a victorious battle, each general seemed to have his own way of handling the aftermath.

The Earl of North Border liked to host barbecues on the spot.

Li Fusheng enjoyed eating steamed buns soaked in human blood amidst mountains of corpses and seas of blood.

Tian Wujing, however, simply sat atop his Pixiu, seemingly detached from everything unfolding before him.

Indeed, compared to leading a two hundred thousand-strong army for thousands of miles to shatter half of Jin State's domain, what had just transpired could only be considered a minor skirmish.

The wild people had lost. They had lost utterly and completely, without any fight left in them. If they couldn't win, they simply couldn't win.

At Que Mu's feet lay many corpses—those of Yan people, and those of the wild warriors who had sworn to die protecting him.

Angda was already dead, having fulfilled his vow.

Que Mu hadn't run either. Even though the Southern Marquis of the Yan people didn't seem particularly anxious or desperate to kill him, this wild people general, he still hadn't run.

Rationality told him that if he could escape now, it would benefit the larger picture. He could then return and inform the King that the Yan people, just as His Majesty had said, were indeed exceedingly powerful and terrifying.

As a military commander, to die here valorously but pointlessly would undoubtedly be a loss to the King.

Que Mu believed that the King wanted him to survive and return, because the King always seemed to maintain a terrifying sort of calmness, no matter the circumstances.

But Que Mu didn't want to run, nor did he wish to escape.

Initially, Angda had urged him to flee with his five thousand warriors. However, Que Mu refused and obstinately summoned wild warriors from nearby tribes to aid in the battle.

This was the result of his own obstinacy; he had to stay here and bear this responsibility.

The grand scheme of things… it was too vast, too exhausting. He couldn't be bothered with it anymore. Now, he only wanted to die, to die in battle…

His people… were they all waiting for him in the heavens, ready to return together to the embrace of the stars?

However, the Yan cavalry merely circled him, as if treating him like a fish caught in a net, awaiting orders from their superior on how he was to be dispatched.

"Come on! Come on! Come on!"

Que Mu staggered, constantly looking around and shouting loudly. He was utterly spent. The wounds on his body made even running impossible; he could only struggle to stay upright.

Come on!

Come at me!

Kill me!

The Yan soldiers' eyes held a hint of mockery. They would occasionally loose arrows, deliberately missing Que Mu, striking the ground before or beside him.

People often hear tales of enemies treating worthy opponents with respect. However, such instances are rare, perhaps occurring only when a prominent figure wishes to make a political display.

Expecting a group of common soldiers, fresh from a bloody battle and still seeing red, to learn and understand respect for their opponents?

Impossible.

Que Mu was deeply shamed and enraged. He yearned for death, but no one would grant him the final blow. At this moment, he was simply a surrounded piece of prey.

Liang Cheng's rear guard had already become the vanguard, pursuing the fleeing enemy. The remaining troops rested where they were, clearing the battlefield and tending to their wounded fellow soldiers. Occasionally, they would look up at the still-enraged Que Mu, as if watching an impromptu performance.

The Yan Army had won, but not without casualties. This spectacle, rather than being for the amusement of the living, seemed more a tribute to their recently fallen fellow soldiers.

Zheng Fan took out his waterskin and drank a few mouthfuls. By this time, Tian Wujing had dismounted and approached the edge of the surrounding circle of soldiers.

"Come on, come on, come on…"

Que Mu was still shouting. He likely only knew these few words of the Xia language, and his voice was already extremely hoarse.

Tian Wujing stood there, watching silently.

Seeing their Lord remain silent, the Yan knights around him assumed he didn't care about the captive and continued to taunt the wild warrior.

Zheng Fan took a coil of rope from his warhorse, walked over, and shouted to the few knights who were circling on horseback,

"Shoot his legs!"

Coming from the Lord's favored subordinate, his words carried weight.

Instantly, several knights drew their bows and loosed arrows. Que Mu, having lost all ability to dodge, collapsed to the ground with arrows piercing both legs.

Zheng Fan tossed the rope to a nearby knight and ordered,

"Tie him up, drag him behind a horse, and parade him past the nearby tribes!"

"Yes, sir."

Like an animal being leashed, Que Mu, who had just collapsed to his knees, was bound with ropes. He was then dragged along the ground by a warhorse. Hundreds of knights surged forward with a roar, hauling the struggling and howling Que Mu into the distance.

Tian Wujing showed no reaction to Zheng Fan's actions, walked over to his Pixiu, and sat down.

Zheng Fan also approached and asked,

"Lord, should we set up camp?"

They could wait for the twenty thousand cavalry following behind—the Left and Right Armies.

"No need. Let the soldiers rest briefly. We continue east."

"What about the nearby tribes?"

"Leave them for the Left and Right Armies behind us to clear out."

Upon hearing this, Zheng Fan heaved a long sigh of relief. As long as these tribes could be cleared out, a large number of wild people slaves, as well as vast herds of cattle, sheep, and horses, would all become spoils of war for the Yan people.

Tian Wujing seemed to have seen through Zheng Fan's thoughts.

He said,

"What, are you afraid of taking a loss?"

Zheng Fan gave a bashful smile and nodded earnestly.

He said,

"I am a little afraid."

"War is not business."

"I understand, Lord. But I also know that a war fought at a loss, much like a failing business, cannot be sustained for long."

"You're implying something."

"You are wise, Lord. This idea only just occurred to me. Lord, the wild people on the snowplains are considerably stronger than those we annihilated in the Skybreak Mountains."

"Continue."

"I believe, Lord, that your purpose in leading the army into the snowplains was not to achieve a complete eradication of the wild people in one fell swoop, because… it's simply impossible to wipe them all out."

Tian Wujing looked at Zheng Fan.

Zheng Fan continued,

"It's like the desert. The North Border Army can defeat any barbarian tribe that confronts us, but we're incapable of completely eradicating them. Because to us, the Yan people, the desert is little more than a 'chicken rib'—something of little value but a pity to discard. We don't have the means, like Qian State, to use a chain of interconnected cities to completely enclose and seal off the desert."

This is similar to situations in other historical contexts. The Central Plains dynasties' control over border regions often fluctuated. They might hold sway during periods of strength but lose it when weakened. The cost of maintaining authority in such distant lands was simply too high. When a dynasty was powerful, it might indulge in territorial expansion for glory. However, when its strength waned, these territories became burdensome.

"The wild people of the snowplains are no different. Our great army set out from Shengle City into the snowplains. This location is merely the border of the wild people's territory. Even for the elite South Jing Army, it took more than ten days to cross the Skybreak Mountains and arrive here. To advance further into the depths of the snowplains would mean an endless, vast expanse. Army supplies, reinforcements, and the transmission of military intelligence would all face extreme difficulties. In some respects, the snowplains are like another desert."

Tian Wujing pointed at Zheng Fan.

He said,

"I understand your meaning. Since the snowplains are another desert for our Yan, are you, Chief Zheng, aiming to become another Earl of North Border?"

"A soldier who doesn't aspire to become a lord is not a good soldier."

"Interesting words."

"Lord, I dare not dream of becoming a marquis. It's exceedingly difficult to secure a hereditary peerage in Yan for someone with a different surname. However, I am willing to take on the responsibility as Chief of Shengle City to cull the wild people of the snowplains."

This place could be fought over, but it couldn't be permanently occupied. Even if you won, you'd have to leave, and once you left, they would return. The Jin people had been fighting the wild people for hundreds of years, yet the Skybreak Mountains remained densely populated with their settlements. Cut down one generation, and another would sprout. Swords grew dull, but the wild people were still innumerable. Therefore, the only approach was to emulate the Earl of North Border's household: pay these neighbors occasional visits, keep them in check. This served two purposes: first, to prevent them from forming a unified regime, and second, to curb their rapid population growth.

"I cannot make that decision."

To exercise suzerainty over the snowplains from a single city was far more complex than the duties of a mere city chief. It would require, at minimum, the establishment of a military district, similar to those of the South Jing Army and the North Border Army.

Zheng Fan lowered his head.

"However, I will propose it to His Majesty on your behalf. But, Chief Zheng,"

"I am here, Lord."

"Don't bite off more than you can chew. I'm afraid you'll take on too much and end up choking."

"Lord, just over a year ago, I was merely the young master of an inn in Hutou City. I was surrounded by a few unremarkable, clumsy fellows whose only talent was eating.

But now, I am capable of building a city. You once mentioned, Lord, that I have some merchant-like tendencies. I don't see that as a bad thing. At least it means I know how to manage and can run things effectively."

The implication was clear: let me handle this, and I won't be a drain on the imperial treasury. I'm like a horse that can run without needing fodder!

Tian Wujing remained noncommittal.

Zheng Fan dared not speak further.

「After a short while」

Tian Wujing spoke,

"You are very impatient."

"Lord, I am merely…"

Tian Wujing nodded and said,

"I understand why you are impatient."

"Lord, it's not…"

"Logically, your talent and aptitude are qualities I admire. Li Liangting also regards you highly, and even His Majesty, holds you in high regard.

Emotionally, you are the godfather of my unborn child.

Therefore, for both logical and emotional reasons, I will support your advancement."

"I thank you for your guidance and support, Lord!"

"There's no need to thank me."

"Then I thank the young lord and the young lady!"

Tian Wujing smiled.

He reached out and pushed away Zheng Fan, who was kneeling before him.

He chided,

"You, you truly have the face of a sycophant."

Zheng Fan, though pushed to the ground, still wore a smile. He said,

"It's only because you've spoiled me, Lord."

Tian Wujing sighed.

He said,

"It truly is a pity you won't be taking over from Wei Zhonghe."

"That would never do, Lord. I haven't even started a family yet. Once this war is over, I'll go back and work hard. I'll try to produce some playmates for the young lord or young lady.

In the future, if anyone dares to threaten them…"

Tian Wujing lowered his head, looked at Zheng Fan, and asked,

"What would you do?"

Zheng Fan's smile vanished.

He met Tian Wujing's gaze.

Word by word, he said,

"I would immediately report it to you, Lord, so you can teach them a lesson!"

"Get out."