Invasion (2)
The land was rough and parched, the wind carrying a chill that gnawed straight to the marrow. Across that desolate ground, where nothing grew but stubborn weeds, a long column of figures was advancing.
"Chanyu, we will reach the mountains soon."
"No sign of movement yet, I take it?"
"None, sir. Not so much as a single beast stirring."
The man who had received his soldier's report allowed himself a satisfied look. "Good. Rushing here at top speed was worth the trouble."
Lately, the slightest brush against the tribes of the north drained their supplies to nothing. If he could win even one great battle, he would ride that momentum and press the attack home — but the cowards of the north refused any decisive engagement, sending nothing but small bands to gnaw away at his territory instead.
Though his own confederation was far the larger, no force could shield every kinsman scattered across so vast a steppe. Those vermin chose their targets with almost obsessive cunning, striking only where the defenses were thinnest, and every fresh report of another raid drove Yufuluo half out of his mind.
The northern tribes' home base? As if such a thing could exist. Wherever a horse's hoof could tread was a road, and wherever a tent could be pitched was home. Whether that ground was scorching or freezing meant nothing at all.
The moment word spread that he was coming, they fled as though to cross the entire continent — and to chase those fugitives down was to invite the attention of the Wuhuan and the Xianbei. Pursue them too deep into their lands, and neither tribe would sit idle while he did it.
Long ago, when the Xiongnu stood at the very height of their power, they had annihilated a mighty tribe that dwelt in the neighboring lands. The learned masters down south had called them the Donghu — "the eastern barbarians." Pride had never been in short supply among that people, but Yufuluo paid such things little mind.
And, just as those masters said, the survivors of that annihilated tribe were none other than the very people now troubling him. That people had scattered in different directions, then taken their new names from the mountains where they settled — the Wuhuan and the Xianbei.
Tribes bound by so poisonous a feud could never be expected to live in amity. Reach for friendship, and he would earn nothing but mockery while his own authority withered away. Submission or death. Between the Xiongnu and the survivors of Donghu, that was the only ending there had ever been.
Yufuluo, Chanyu of the Southern Xiongnu, spoke. "We take what we need — no more — and pull out. Understood?"
Hearing the order, his aide-de-camp stole a careful glance around before venturing to speak. "Well... some of the soldiers want to take slaves. What are we to do about them?"
"Hmm. That one's a bit delicate."
At the question, Yufuluo paused to weigh it. His ranks had their share of men who had never managed to take a spouse, and it seemed they saw this raid as their chance to snatch a slave and escape their bachelor lot. The trouble was that dragging slaves along would inevitably cost them speed.
The man who ruled Bing Province these days was desperately determined to defend his territory. For now, with no word yet delivered, all was quiet — but the moment news arrived that Yufuluo was on the move, he would startle as though launched from his seat and march out at the head of an army. And between the General-in-Chief, who now held the reins of Han power, and Yufuluo's people, there lay more than enough old grudges.
Born the son of the Inspector of Bing Province, that man had spent his entire life repelling invasion from beyond the frontier. Wuhuan and Xianbei alike had come raiding, but the ones who had tormented Bing Province worst of all — say what anyone would — were the Xiongnu, Yufuluo's own people. The moment a report arrived that Bing Province was under attack, the General-in-Chief would move without a shred of hesitation, no doubt grumbling that the troublesome vermin had come crawling in again.
Yufuluo knew this well, for he had once stood against the General-in-Chief's host. The instant even the tiniest gap showed itself, the man would drive straight into it and exact a terrible price.
— "You vermin! Don't you ever tire of this?!"
— "Gwaaagh—!"
— "Don't run! I'll send every last one of you to the afterlife—!!"
Recalling the red-haired girl who was forever glued to the General-in-Chief's army, Yufuluo broke out in a cold sweat. However far they tried to open the distance, she closed it like a phantom and sent his soldiers flying with casual sweeps of her blade. The sight of the Peerless Under Heaven rampaging across the battlefield, drenched head to toe in blood, was the very stuff of nightmares to the steppe peoples.
"......"
"What the hell is with that bitch now—! Gack!"
Nor could he forget the general who served at the Peerless One's side, silently cutting his soldiers down one after another. The red-haired demon who smashed openly through their formations hogged all the attention, but the brown-haired woman who led her own cavalry and struck only where their lines were weakest was never a foe to be taken lightly either.
There had even been times when he tried using his own head, bending his route to circle wide and fall upon the General-in-Chief's main camp — but...
Thwip-thwip-thwip-thwip—!!
"Arrows?!"
"H-how did they know?!"
Unable to punch through a formation that moved as though it were a single living body, he had paid dearly for the attempt. Those blue-green eyes, which had not so much as flickered even as a tide of horsemen crashed down all at once, burned vividly in his memory.
Yufuluo remembered how the battlefield turned on its head the moment any of the General-in-Chief's generals showed their face. Even that Gong-whats-his-name whom the Wuhuan dreaded as the White Horse General was nothing beside the General-in-Chief's army.
Of course. Next to us, those Wuhuan might as well have been out for a stroll. ...And I am supposed to be glad about this?
After turning the matter over and over, Yufuluo finally lowered his head. "No — it can't be helped. We give up on the slaves. Everyone focuses on gathering supplies and nothing else."
"Understood."
The aide, who had crossed blades with the General-in-Chief's host countless times himself, apparently shared his lord's thoughts, for a look of relief crossed his face.
"Listen well! The single most important thing in this operation is speed! Grab the valuables, then be ready to bolt on the double!"
"Yes, sir!"
The Xiongnu raised no particular objection to Yufuluo's order to forgo slaves. The elite veterans who had survived the long years knew all too well how terrifying the General-in-Chief's army was, and the fresh recruits who had only recently joined were hardly in any position to grumble over a thinner share of loot.
"If you've understood, get moving! The sooner we arrive, the larger the share we carry home — surely even you can see that!"
They had now come within reach of the lands bordering Han territory, so unless the Han were fools, they would have noticed an army marching toward them.
"Pick up the pace—! Every village that catches your eye on the way, strip it to the bones—!!"
"WAAAAAGH—!!"
At Yufuluo's cry, the Xiongnu answered with a roar of their own. A steppe people who had lived their whole lives in the saddle, more at home on horseback than any people on earth. The hardy horsemen who had once left even the Han helpless wheeled their mounts with practiced ease and began the charge.
From this moment on, it was a true race against time.
Before any rider had yet been dispatched to the General-in-Chief, Zhang Yang — who had succeeded Ding Yuan as Inspector of Bing Province — was given a violent start by a report from the Black Mountain Bandits scouting the area: nomads were invading.
"Wh-what did you say?! How many?!"
"Well... how do I put this. At least twenty thousand, I'd say."
"Twenty thousand?!"
At a figure that made his eyes glaze over, Zhang Yang very nearly fainted on the spot. "The raiders who usually come barely number a few hundred! Where in the world did they scrape together an army that size?!"
"Did I not say it was the Chanyu of the Xiongnu?" Sui Gu, the Black Mountain Bandit delivering the report, replied with a shrug. "In terms of this country, it's as good as Her Majesty the Empress taking the field in person. You'd want at least that much for the occasion to look right."
"Hmmm... well, that's fair enough..." Zhang Yang nodded along — then snapped abruptly back to his senses. "Hold on — aren't the nomads horse archers to a man? And you're telling me there are twenty thousand?"
"Every last one of them except the old and the young knows how to fight. It means they have no commoners devoted solely to farming, the way ours are."
True to a man who had spent long years in Bing Province turning back nomad incursions beyond counting, the Black Mountain Bandit knew their ways well enough too.
Sui Gu went on in a playful tone. "Look on the bright side. Hold off just this one, and the Xiongnu won't come sniffing anywhere near here for a good long while, will they?"
"And what of the Wuhuan and the Xianbei, forever watching for their chance?"
"......"
At Zhang Yang's question, Sui Gu let his gaze slide away, offering no answer. It was insolence no superior should have to witness, yet not one soul present called him on it. Everyone from Bing Province was like that — and Zhang Yang himself was a son of Bing Province.
The middle-aged man with the finely kept beard spoke in a troubled voice. "Hmm... what in the world are we to do about this..."
"Inspector! There is someone here who wishes an audience with you!"
"What's that?"
At the report from one of his officers, Zhang Yang let his puzzlement show even as he nodded. "Very well. It is precisely in times like these that worthy men come calling. Show him in!"
"Yes, sir!"
The officer withdrew, and a short while later, a figure appeared. At the sight of the newcomer, Zhang Yang's eyes went wide.
"N-no... isn't that...?"
Was that not the man who had burst onto the scene like a comet of late, cutting down every nomad incursion one after another?
The newcomer fixed Zhang Yang with a gaze as clear as a still lake.