Deep Nightmare - 4
True to his word, Yangyang Wang set out at the crack of dawn just three days later. Since they planned to cross the desert and rampage across the steppes in short order, the strike force consisted entirely of first-rate warriors and above. Not a single cannon or regular soldier in sight—their mobility had to be insane.
I wonder how much havoc they'll wreak before coming back.
Standing atop the battlements, I watched the strike team's rear vanish in the blink of an eye.
A Hwa-gyeong master at the lead, flanked by a dozen or so super peak experts. Every single member treated as a seasoned veteran, first-rate at minimum. If a unit like that focused purely on annihilation rather than looting, the Mongols' southwestern border would be left in ruins.
Serves them right for pulling their little stunt.
I couldn't hide my schadenfreude. If the Mongols had stayed quiet, we wouldn't have bothered sending troops north of the Long Wall. We'd finally unified the realm—letting the people rest took priority over military adventures.
But high officials still seethed with resentment, hatred, and fear toward the Mongols. A few barbarians lurking near the border was enough to trigger full-blown PTSD. Hell, this world might even launch a full-scale northern expedition like Ming China in real history—until the Mongol empire crumbled and the steppes splintered into warring tribes.
"Left Vice Inspector General."
Lost in those thoughts as the strike team disappeared for good, the Jiayu Pass Commandant approached.
"Time to head down, sir. The sandstorm's due any minute."
"His Highness picked a hell of a time to march," I sighed in response.
That meant Yangyang Wang and his team would hit the Gobi Desert right as the storm rolled in.
"On the contrary, His Highness said charging through the sandstorm is the only way to catch the barbarians off guard. And a force of nothing but first-rates won't be stopped by a little wind."
Couldn't argue with that. Who'd expect anyone to brave the brutal desert and a sandstorm?
"Still, we can't send our guests into the gale after all their hard work. How about a banquet until it blows over?"
"Excellent idea. We can't just brush off the Daoists who came all the way out here."
I nodded at the Commandant's suggestion.
Right after discovering the massive ritual array the Mongols had been building, he'd summoned Daoists from Gongdong-pa to perform a re-purification. Erasing a completed array required not just plowing the earth but gathering the lingering energies too—a job no ordinary labor could handle.
Like he said, we couldn't just send them packing. They'd trekked from remote Qongqushan to this dusty outpost, endured sand-buried rituals over a dozen times. Turning them away now would make us heartless bastards.
"Join the banquet and praise them yourself, Left Vice Inspector General. They'll be thrilled."
"Haha, they'll probably gripe about one more superior to watch out for."
"Oh, right you are. My thinking was shortsighted."
The Commandant chuckled at my joke. Was it my imagination, or had his smiles multiplied since his recent promotion?
An inflated ego... No, not yet. Just pride and ambition for now. Hoped he kept that mindset.
The eagle I'd sent for recon returned. Trained to come back if troops poured out of Jiayu Pass, its arrival meant the serfs had finally crawled out.
"About time?"
"Yeah. Pigs who farm for a living—asses like lead weights."
The aides burst out laughing at my reply. True enough, heavyweights.
After all our prodding, they finally opened the gates.
Thought the young hothead would charge out after a little poking.
I laughed along with the aides, but inside, unease churned. Jiayu Pass's commander was the duke's kin, a young high-rank climber hungry for glory—prime bait for a provocation.
That's why we'd loitered nearby to bait him, but he held out longer than expected. Damnably so.
"Good work."
I stroked the eagle's head anyway—it brought the intel we craved. Human scouts were ideal, but any pro near experts got spotted before gathering squat. Better limited beast intel than none.
Plus, troops exiting Jiayu Pass told us plenty.
They wouldn't send just garrison forces.
After dragging it out forever, the cautious bastards wouldn't leave home undefended. They'd dispatched external reinforcements or filled gaps with them.
Garrison numbers unchanged, then—but irrelevant.
No more incoming reinforcements.
If outsiders had entered, none would come soon. No quick-response forces nearby, even if shit hit the fan. Not in this back-of-beyond—far from Habuk or Shanxi. Linkups and support? A pipe dream.
From now on, they handled everything with house resources. Not empty, but acceptable.
Expert count's definitely down.
Total troops steady, sure—but experts? Had to drop. Unless insane, the dispatched unit was a small elite strike force of pure warriors. Crossing harsh desert to hit vast steppes demanded top-tier only. Mediocre fighters yielded zilch.
Fewer experts now. No rushing reinforcements amid chaos. Complacent commanders post-march.
"Turn the horses."
Conditions perfect. Time to hit Jiayu Pass.
"Turn the horses! We march!"
The eager aide bellowed the long-awaited order.
Of course, seizing it outright was impossible—and problematic. Enraged serfs would swarm to retake it.
Just hit the border fortress hard. Pressure them from staring north. Etch that we're the only ones dominating local skirmishes. Show 'em steppe terror up close.
That was the goal. Solely.
Easy enough.
We'd lost past glory, retreated beyond the Long Wall—but we were the Central Plains' nightmare for centuries. From Xiongnu to Xianbei, Khitan, and now. Steppe lords terrorizing the heartland.
Even without it, that held. Hell, losing it reignited our old ferocity.
Hoofbeats thundered. Not mere sandstorm from the north—a full sand blast.
Mad bastards.
The sight drew a wry laugh. Charging right after Yangyang Wang marched? They'd planned this from the start, exploiting lax defenses.
Dizzying resolve. Cavalry-only, no siege gear—zero intent to conquer. Attacking despite the march meant they didn't give a damn if steppe patches burned.
Lunatics. The "burn your own to take theirs" mindset? But what'd they gain attacking Jiayu Pass over their turf?
...Fast as hell, though.
True to infamy, the Mongols unleashed savage speed. Sandstorm phantoms sharpened into forms.
"Mad bastards."
The Commandant beside me muttered the same. His shock probably dwarfed mine—he'd watched these Mongols forever.
Unfamiliar pattern froze the brain. Especially a lunatic one shattering norms.
"...Prepare cannons."
"Yes, Commander!"
He rallied quick. Their speed might dodge fire, but suppressive barrages mattered—
"Once loaded, fire northeast and northwest."
?
"Sir?"
His unexpected order drew my raised brow. Straight north, single file—hitting sides with iffy aim? Waste of powder?
"If they fan out for looting, we're screwed defending. Better pepper their scatter paths, force 'em to fixate on Jiayu Pass."
Solid logic. Dispersal to villages? Catastrophe. We'd scatter to chase, leaving home vulnerable to a sudden mass assault. Skip the chase, and folks became Mongol piggy banks.
Damn pricks.
Dismount and siege fair and square, you cowards.