The Demon Lords-Chapter 574 - 71: Young Lord_1

Que Mu had been dragged by the warhorses until his face was unrecognizable; he was long dead.

After a brief rest, the army continued its eastward march. Watching the Black Armor Cavalry depart, many of the surrounding tribes breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Almost every tribe had members who had participated in the battle, but thankfully, these terrifying Yan people seemed to have no intention of punishing them.

However, their relief was short-lived. That night, the twenty thousand soldiers of the Jingnan Army's left and right wings, led by their four leading commanders, caught up. Upon discovering that their Lord had already won the battle and proceeded east without them, these commanders vented all their suppressed frustration on these wild people's tribes.

After witnessing the terrifying might of the Yan people during the day, many tribes lacked the courage to organize any resistance against the Yan people who attacked that night. They could only watch as the cavalry charged straight into their tents.

Burning, killing, looting, and pillaging, venting their frustrations to the fullest—this was an ugly facet of war.

Even the Jingnan Army, renowned for its strict discipline and personally forged by Tian Wujing, was no exception.

This night was dominated by blood and screams.

There was no talk of justice or injustice. The Yan people could tolerate the existence of the Cheng State, but they would not permit a group similar to the Desert Barbarians to rise and thrive to their northeast.

Even if the king of the wild people had once served in the Yan Army, perhaps even held a yearning for the Yan State in his heart, the Yan Emperor would not gamble. Especially when he possessed the full capability to nip the rise of this people in the bud, why risk indulging in such an ethereal, unfounded fondness?

This, too, could be considered the law of the dark forest.

「The next day,」

The left and right armies set out again, following the trail of the central army, continuing eastward.

「Several days later,」

A motley army, initiated from Shengle City and composed of numerous local tyrants and fort masters, finally crossed the Skybreak Mountain range.

This was an army of opportunists...

…

The main army marched for seven consecutive days. It became clear that the influence of that king of the wild people seemed limited to only a part of the snowfields and had not yet achieved substantial control over the entire expanse.

Especially in the western snowfields, his presence was weak. This area was predominantly the territory of various large and small tribes of wild people. The wild people's cavalry that had first launched an attack against the Yan Army was likely the only force the wild king had dispatched here.

On the way, the Yan Army crushed three large tribes. Using tactics such as night raids, flanking attacks, and the 'Besiege Wei to Rescue Zhao' maneuver, Lord Jingnan adapted to the circumstances. The already formidable Jingnan Army, coupled with Tian Wujing's god-like command of troops, vanquished these three tribes, each with populations exceeding ten thousand, without much trouble.

As for the many other small and medium-sized tribes, Tian Wujing paid them no mind; in a couple of days, the left and right armies would help with the cleanup anyway.

The army continued its eastward advance.

Five days later, the army finally halted and began to set up camp. Scouts had returned with reports of an organized army of wild people ahead.

This was not a force cobbled together from various tribes, but a true army. This meant their spearhead was nearing the wild king's actual zone of control.

Alternatively, the wild king might have organized another large army, intending to meet the enemy preemptively.

The enemy numbered around thirty thousand, and their ranks were still swelling.

Tian Wujing finally paused, allowing his soldiers to rest. He also waited for the left and right wing armies, which had done little else but burn and pillage on their journey from behind.

Moreover, today was the traditional Yan "Wanfu Festival," a festival themed around praying for health and freedom from misfortune.

If Que Mu's wild people army, encountered just after emerging from the Skybreak Mountain range, was an appetizer, then the tribes crushed during the subsequent ten-plus days of raiding across the snowfield were the side dishes. What lay ahead was the main course.

"Only by devouring the true main force of that wild king ahead can we significantly diminish his strength," Zheng Fan said as he prepared milk tea. "Otherwise, everything our army has done so far, while seemingly weakening the snowfield tribes, will in reality have been paving the way for this wild king."

First, he caramelized sugar, then added tea leaves and continued to stir-fry them before pouring in goat's milk.

"I thought you were only concerned with business," Tian Wujing said, sitting opposite Zheng Fan.

After their shared experience of entering the Skybreak Mountains and traveling to and from the snowfield, it had become customary for the two of them to sit together by the bonfire during meals. Besides, Zheng Fan always managed to concoct some new and interesting food.

"The snowfields and deserts are very similar, unlike our Yan and Qian States," Zheng Fan continued. "Among those individual tribes, even if alliances exist, they still tend to keep to themselves. If one tribe suddenly suffers a calamity, the others are often pleased because they can seize the opportunity to annex the afflicted tribe's population and pastures, thereby greatly increasing their own strength."

This was a fundamental difference in their political and military structures. In the orthodox successor states of Xia, if any region suffered a disaster or other misfortune, as long as the central authority wasn't completely paralyzed, it would invariably organize relief efforts, and its national strength would naturally be diminished as a result.

But this kind of national consciousness did not exist in the deserts or snowfields. Theirs was more akin to a system where only the fittest survive.

"Therefore, I must devour that army ahead of us."

"Lord, the milk tea is ready," Zheng Fan said, pouring the brewed milk tea and handing it to Tian Wujing.

Tian Wujing took the cup, sipped it, and asked, "What is this?"

"Caramel milk tea. My own creation."

"It's a bit rich."

"I'll add more tea leaves next time."

"Mm."

Inside the military encampment, bonfires blazed everywhere, the air thick with the aroma of roasting lamb and lamb soup.

In this era, eating meat at every meal was an unimaginable luxury for ordinary people. Even if the Jingnan Army soldiers received a salary, they had families to support.

Even in later ages with advanced productivity, while ordinary families could afford meat with every meal, it would typically be shreds or slices. How many families could truly afford to feast on roasted lamb racks at every meal?

"Soldiers are people, not objects," Tian Wujing said. "Your 'Zheng Zi Art of War,' in some places, is indeed too general. Take the current situation: it's been nearly a month since we departed from Shengle City. While the soldiers may not be homesick, their fatigue has certainly reached a critical point. That's why I'm letting them enjoy themselves for these two days."

Zheng Fan nodded thoughtfully, understanding that Tian Wujing was teaching him a very concrete lesson.

"Even the strongest troops will run into problems if their morale plummets. As a commander, you must not only concern yourself with the soldiers' provisions and rations but also empathize with them. The so-called unity between a general and his men isn't merely about sharing a meal with them from the same pot."

"Yes."

"A commander must not be overly familiar with his soldiers, for excessive familiarity breeds fearlessness towards you. Nor should he be too distant, for excessive distance will surely lead to their alienation. There is a delicate balance here, one that you must learn to grasp yourself."

Zheng Fan continued to nod.

"You don't need to worry about the twenty thousand troops of the left and right armies in this regard. Once they arrive in a couple of days, our army can continue eastward to wage war against the wild people. Those twenty thousand, on their journey here, have done nothing but burn and pillage. We've already dealt with the tough adversaries, so from commanders to soldiers, they are all spoiling for a real fight.

"There's actually a sense of competition among them; they don't want to return after the war, when merits are discussed, only to find they haven't fought a single decent battle."

"Yes."

"Take these words to heart."

"This general understands."

"In the future, when our Great Yan deploys troops—whether it's further into the snowfields, into the deserts, or south to attack the Qian State—it will involve arduous, long-distance expeditions. Therefore, maintaining the army's morale under such conditions is of paramount importance."

Zheng Fan nodded repeatedly, like a chicken pecking rice, his expression one of profound and sincere gratitude.

At that moment, a group of soldiers in the distance, apparently having eaten and drunk to their hearts' content, burst into song.

The songs of the Yan people carried a distinct, heroic spirit—rough, lofty, and aspirational. Gradually, more and more voices joined the chorus.

At this time, military anthems hadn't really emerged yet. What they sang were local folk songs from Yinlang County, as most of the Jingnan Army veterans hailed from there.

This gave Zheng Fan an idea: after the war, he could compose a military song for his own troops to foster greater cohesion.

Just then, several senior officers gathered and approached to offer a toast to Lord Jingnan.

The drink was milk wine, low in alcohol content. Those unaccustomed to it found it hard to swallow, but at such a time, any alcoholic beverage was a welcome treat, and no one was inclined to be picky.

"Long life to you, Lord!"

"Long life to you, Lord!"

The group of officers knelt and raised their wine bowls.

On Wanfu Festival, people exchanged wishes of "Wanfu," signifying hopes for good health and freedom from illness.

Tian Wujing silently lifted the caramel milk tea Zheng Fan had just prepared for him, raised his cup in a token gesture, and then everyone drank together.

These were all hardened men, forged in the crucible of army life. Unlike Zheng Fan, these officers lacked his thick skin and wouldn't dare to jest or behave familiarly with Tian Wujing.

But in a burst of emotion, everyone raised their arms and shouted, "Long life to the Lord, long life to the young lord!"

The entire Jingnan Army was aware that Lady Tian Wujing was pregnant.

At first, only a few officers were shouting. Soon, more and more soldiers nearby raised their arms and joined the cry, "Long life to the Lord, long life to the young lord!"

Then, the entire encampment, tens of thousands strong, began to chant in unison, "Long life to the Lord, long life to the young lord! A thousand lifetimes for the Lord, a thousand lifetimes for the young lord!"

Chief Zheng silently continued to brew caramel milk tea, not joining in the fervor.

Damn it, the way these people shouted 'A thousand lifetimes' felt just like they were shouting 'Long live!'

And Zheng Fan knew that most of them were probably truly shouting 'Long live!' in their hearts.

The undercurrent was already surging. No, to be precise, it had begun to ripple long ago.

In the eyes of these soldiers, what scholars thought of their Lord, what the common folk thought of their Lord—that was all bullshit. With swords in hand, they dared to silence Heaven itself!

Lord Jingnan had commanded the Jingnan Army for over a decade. His influence permeated every aspect of it, and as he led them from one victory to another, this influence gradually transformed into a cult of personality.

Meanwhile, everyone in the camp shouted, "Long life to the young lord!" No one added "or young lady."

This could be an omission, or perhaps a form of blessing. After all, wishing someone a son, even in many places in later times, was still considered an auspicious thing to say, let alone in this era. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

But was that really all there was to it?

Zheng Fan grabbed a handful of tea leaves and tossed them into the small pot. Everyone in the army was focused on the 'young lord' because it meant Lord Jingnan would have an heir, the Tian Family would have an heir, and the Jingnan Army... would have a successor.

Although rumors had long circulated that the Earl of North Border had a son—a very mysterious son, raised in the army from childhood, his identity unknown—no one could confirm if it was true.

But overtly, at least, the Earl of North Border's household had only one noble daughter. Now that the Second Prince had entered the East Palace and become the Crown Prince, the matter of this noble daughter from the Earl of North Border's household going to Yanjing to become the Crown Princess should also be on the agenda.

In the future, barring any unforeseen circumstances, the Imperial Grandson and Heir of the Yan State would be the maternal grandson of the Earl of North Border's household, carrying half of the Li family's bloodline.

Even though the Second Prince was Tian Wujing's nephew, if Tian Wujing had his own son, a nephew would be nothing compared to his own son.

For a moment, Zheng Fan was stunned. The conversation he'd had with Lord Jingnan in the Skybreak Mountain range over a month ago suddenly surfaced in his mind: Tian Wujing had said he wanted a daughter.

A chill suddenly ran down Zheng Fan's spine. If Dujuan gave birth to a boy... what would happen?