Upheaval (6)
An army spread out so vast that a single glance could not take it all in.
Honestly, a sight like this was nothing new to me.
In a land where anywhere from tens of thousands to hundreds of thousands of troops could pop up at the drop of a hat, an army of 100,000 was considered fairly ordinary.
The reason the Mongol army startled me, specifically, was—
—Neigh!
—Hihihihiing!
…the horses, stretching endlessly across the steppe.
"Wow. That's a mind-numbing number."
Lü Bu let out a gasp of admiration at the overwhelming sight.
"How many are there in total?"
"Hard to say. Probably over a million."
"That many?"
When Lü Bu's eyes went wide, I shrugged.
Every soldier of the Mongol Empire owned at least two or three horses, and as many as six.
That was why, so the stories went, they could always remount on horses in peak condition no matter which battlefield they rode to.
And that was just the horses the soldiers rode. Who knew how many more there were in the rear, hauling supplies and baggage?
Considering all this, it was no exaggeration to say that the number of mounts belonging to the Mongol Empire in the vicinity numbered well over a million.
"Hmmmm."
Zhang Fei raised a hand above her brow to shade her eyes from the sun and furrowed her pretty brows.
Having noticed that the Mongol camp was spaced unusually wide apart to allow the horses to graze freely, she muttered flatly:
"Leave those things alone and they'll turn this whole place into a wasteland."
"At least we won't need to weed the field later."
"...Is that really how it works?"
Soldiers and weeds were natural enemies, after all.
Attaboy, my fine steeds.
Wipe every last one of those damned weeds off the face of the earth.
…Well, in truth, letting a horse eat just any grass risked giving it a stomachache, but these were hardly ordinary horses.
Just as the weak could not survive in a nomadic nation, a frail beast had even less of a chance.
Would you believe it if I told you that these horses dug through snow piled on the ground to find grass, all without a single day of training from humans?
The horses raised on the Mongolian steppe were on an entirely different level of endurance and survivability.
No wonder settled nations lost their minds at the mere mention of nomad-bred horses.
Come to think of it, it's actually kind of funny.
A nation where both the men and the horses became equally terrifying instruments of war…
I gave the order to the adjutants nearby.
"Tell the commanders waiting in the rear to set up camp."
"Yes, sir!"
Just as we had spotted the Mongol army's camp, the Mongol Empire's scouts would surely have spotted ours as well.
Before long, they would likely send an envoy to press for an answer to the proposal the Emperor had put off before.
Surrender, or death.
Given that I had dragged an army all the way out here, they could probably guess what answer was coming—yet the way they pressed for a reply all the same was very Mongol Empire of them.
Perhaps that strangely fair-minded streak of Genghis Khan's was at work.
Once a fight began, they would resort to every filthy trick in the book until you wanted to curse them out for waging war so damnably—but to a nation that wasn't yet an enemy, they would send gifts and put on a friendly face.
The Khwarazmian Empire of the original history had been in that latter category, until the troublemakers went and slaughtered the first Mongol embassy, then sent the second back with the beards—symbols of manhood—shaved clean…
Wait, then why are we the ones going straight to "surrender or die" and declaring war?
…Ah.
Right. China and the northern nomads had been blood enemies since ancient times.
The Han dynasty alone offered a wealth of examples.
Emperor Gaozu, defeated by the Xiongnu Chanyu Modu, had technically started that war himself, and by the reign of Emperor Wu, China was hurling hundreds of thousands of troops northward on the back of its staggering resources, beating the foreign tribes into pulp.
Then Emperor Guangwu, that cheat-code of an emperor who founded the Later Han, sowed discord from behind the scenes and split the Xiongnu into the Northern and Southern branches.
Guangwu didn't stop there—he kept them twisted around his finger, and in the original history the Northern Xiongnu were ultimately destroyed by the Southern Xiongnu.
From the nomads' point of view, this was the nation that fractured their own kin and sabotaged every attempt at unification. Of course they couldn't look at it fondly.
The Jin dynasty, too, spent its days warily checking and undermining the steppe lest it unify under one banner, until the Mongol Empire's affection meter finally exploded.
The problem was that we now stood in that very position.
"…"
Now that I thought it through, I realized we were in serious trouble.
Anyone want to call it a draw?
…In any case, whatever my intentions, time kept flowing, and by the time our camp was mostly complete, an envoy arrived from the Mongol Empire.
Clear eyes that marked him unmistakably as Mongol, and the flat expression of a man who had killed his share of people.
A curved saber at his hip, armor wrapped around his entire body—he was armed so thoroughly that it was hard to believe he came as an envoy rather than an invader.
Completely unintimidated by the stares around him, the Mongol envoy spoke with a proud, upright bearing.
"Our leader wishes to speak with your nation's leader directly."
"Directly?"
I furrowed my brow slightly, signaling with a hand gesture for the adjutants who were stepping forward at the envoy's insolent manner to hold back.
Unexpected, to say the least. Why bring this up now?
After a brief moment of thought, I shook my head and answered in a voice tinged with regret.
"…Regrettably, Her Majesty the Emperor cannot leave the capital."
"No, I do not mean that woman."
The Mongol envoy corrected me firmly, as if I had picked the wrong answer.
"Jeong Reung Hwahyeon."
"…"
"The Great Khan wishes to speak with the Grand General of Han directly."
When I stared at him, unable to fathom his intent, the Mongol envoy continued without pause.
"Our leader knows full well that the Grand General is the true power in this nation."
…Uh, hm.
Honestly, it wasn't wrong, but having it stated so bluntly left me a little nonplussed.
Trust no one but Genghis Khan himself to have long since figured out who really ruled this country.
I don't know how he interpreted my silence, but the envoy's words kept coming.
"The time is tomorrow, when the sun stands highest."
"…"
"The Great Khan says he will respect your decision, whether you accept or not."
Having delivered every word of his message—employing that remarkable word respect, no less—the envoy of the Mongol Empire turned and departed.
"Mmmm."
At the sight of me deliberating with my arms crossed, the generals nearby began to speak up.
"Those uncivilized barbarians… no, those foreigners know nothing of courtesy. Who knows what they might do to you, my lord?"
"He's right. Would it not be better to refuse?"
In that instant, Sun Ce's hot-blooded nature flared to the surface, with Zhou Yu at her side backing her up:
"We're going to fight anyway. What's the point of talking?"
"…Yide, quiet."
Zhang Fei's mutter—surprisingly cutting to the heart of the matter—and Guan Yu's rebuke.
"…"
"…Hmph."
And even the little strategists, silent as stones, clearly deferring to whatever I chose.
Beyond them, I met the eyes of countless others—Yuan Shao, Cao Cao, Sun Jian—and let out a faint chuckle.
"Don't worry. I'm hardly the kind of man who dies there."
If I could die with Xiang Yu and Lü Bu standing guard as my escorts, then I was simply fated to die no matter what I did, wasn't I?
And if that were truly the case, the only difference would be dying sooner or later—either way, I would end up laid to rest on this battlefield.
"Besides, if talking can avert a war, what better outcome could there be?"
"…Whew. I knew you'd say that."
Lü Bu grumbled nearby, clearly dissatisfied, but I gently ignored him.
With every decision made, I gave my orders in a level voice.
"For today, let the weary soldiers rest properly."
"…"
"…Understood."
Seo Yeo and several of the other generals went on watching me with worried eyes until the very end, but my choice did not change.
──────────
The day passed, and when the hour the Mongol envoy had named arrived, I led my honor guard out of the camp.
A few minutes on horseback, step by steady step.
"…There he is."
Lü Bu, who had been scanning our surroundings with nerves wound taut as bowstrings, muttered as she spotted something.
At her words, I looked straight ahead and confirmed the figure before us.
"…"
A man standing at the head of a guard of several hundred.
Even from a distance, the red hair and red eyes were unmistakable, and I opened my mouth playfully.
"Well, what do you know. There's Lü Bu over there again."
"…Is now really the time for jokes?"
At that curt response, I laughed once and patted Lü Bu on the shoulder.
"Don't be so tense. I told you—we're only here to talk."
"…"
Even at my words, Lü Bu kept her mouth firmly shut, clearly no reassured in the slightest.
Honestly, that hotblooded nature of hers.
Though, truth be told, I was quite shaken inside as well.
And no wonder—I had never imagined even Genghis Khan would turn out to be a woman.
Why did it feel like every famous figure in history became a woman?
If figures like Caesar or Napoleon were born as women in the future, that would certainly be entertaining.
…Wait, Caesar was already born, wasn't he?
My memory's getting fuzzy.
"…"
Just as I'd noted, the woman before me—her eyes the very same shade as Lü Bu's—was watching me with an impassive gaze.