If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead and more, be sure to check out my P-Tang12!!!
______________________________
(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
...
But as the distance closed, the expected charge never came. Instead, through the freezing mist, the Xiongnu saw a sprawling, slow moving caravan of wooden carts, grandmothers wrapped in heavy furs, and crying infants, bearing the distinctive, white falcon banners of a Xianbei sub tribe.
The two historical enemies, whose ancestors had slaughtered each other for four hundred years, stared at one another across the frosted expanse. There were no war cries. There were no arrows loosed. There was only a profound, heavy silence of mutual recognition.
They quickly accepted the bizarre, unprecedented situation, knowing that some of the other pragmatic clans would naturally have the exact same survival thoughts as them.
The trauma of the Han artillery had leveled all tribal boundaries. They were no longer Xiongnu or Xianbei, they were simply refugees fleeing the apocalypse.
But as the initial shock faded, a sharp, deeply competitive instinct suddenly cut through the panic.
Realizing the immense political stakes of what they were doing, the leaders of these splinter groups looked at the surrounding caravans and came to a sudden, highly critical realization. The Han Emperor was a cold, calculating sovereign who measured the world in terms of utility and power. He was currently conducting an absolute eradication of the north.
When an empire is cleansing a land, the first people to fall to their knees are a political asset, the last people to surrender are simply obstacles to be cleared.
They immediately whipped their mounts and rode faster, turning their somber migration into a desperate, frantic race across the permafrost.
The atmosphere transformed from a silent retreat into a mad, competitive dash for survival. The chieftains furiously shouted at their people to pick up the pace. The wooden carts creaked violently as the draft horses were pushed to a heavy, breaking gallop. Non essential items, heavy iron cookpots, ornate wooden furniture, and extra hides, were ruthlessly dumped from the wagons, left to litter the snow as the clans desperately sought to lighten their loads.
They fiercely wanted to become the very first group to officially surrender so that their overall value and leverage in the Han Emperor's eyes are much bigger.
The first chieftain to present his clan's ledgers to Lie Fan would be able to offer the most accurate intelligence on the internal infighting of the north. They would be the ones to secure the most fertile borderlands for their livestock, the highest allocation of winter grain for their families, and the personal protection of the imperial legions against their vengeful former brethren.
The clans that arrived late would be treated as second class captives, or worse, lumped in with the hostile forces and subjected to the cannons.
The freezing steppes became a massive, multi directional racetrack of human desperation, with thousands of nomadic families racing toward the southern horizon, praying to see the black iron lines of the imperial camps before their rivals did.
As for Lie Fan, the architect of this calculated chaos, he currently had his massive, victorious army resting and reorganizing their supply lines on the conquered plains.
The Central Command encampment was a staggering, awe inspiring testament to the slowly developing industrialized power of the Hengyuan Dynasty. The captured Xianbei stone fortifications had been entirely transformed into a buzzing hub of imperial logistics. Hundreds of thousands of disciplined soldiers were cleaning their armor, sharpening their weapons, and receiving fresh rations of hot rice and cured pork.
The engineering corps was working tirelessly, extending the crushed gravel paths and laying down the heavy iron rails of the wagonways, linking this forward base directly to the massive granaries south of the Great Wall. Convoys of steam forged carriages arrived hourly, ensuring that the imperial army lacked absolutely nothing, even as the winter temperatures continued to drop.
Inside the absolute warmth and pristine organization of the grand command tent, the atmosphere was calm and intensely focused. The large mahogany table was covered in updated maps, logistical charts, and the master ledgers of the census that Sima Yi and Xu Shu were still meticulously compiling.
Lie Fan stood at the head of the table, his dark eyes observing the structural layout of the northern territories. Beside him stood his council, Sima Yi, Xun You, Xu Shu, and Lu Xun, alongside Lu Lingqi, who remained standing as his silent, vigilant shield beside him.
The peace of the command center was suddenly broken as the heavy canvas flaps were pulled aside. A senior commander of the forward patrols, accompanied by a scout (high ranking Oriole officer) whose dark robes were covered in frost, entered the tent. They did not wait for the formal courtly greetings, their faces were tight with an intense, urgent focus.
They knelt quickly, presenting a set of freshly written cipher scrolls.
"Report, Your Majesty," the patrol commander stated, his breath pluming in the warm air of the tent. "Our forward outriders and the hidden scouts have just detected massive movements across the northern quadrants."
Lie Fan took the scrolls, his expression remaining perfectly calm as he unrolled the parchment.
The reports were explicit and urgent. The forward patrols and the hidden scouts (Oriole network) revealed that there were large groups of incoming nomadic tribes heading rapidly toward their main encampment from several different directions simultaneously.
"They are not moving in war formations, Your Majesty," the Oriole Agent added, his voice low and steady. "Our scouts report no weapons drawn, no vanguard lancers, and no siege trains. It is a massive migration. Thousands of wagons, tens of thousands of civilians, and herds of livestock are rushing directly toward our lines from the north, east, and northwest. They are moving at a frantic, breakneck speed, as if the very devil is chasing them."
Sima Yi stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the markers on the map. "A migration? Could it be a desperate, multi directional human shield? A final, suicidal attempt by what's left of the unified horde to overwhelm our frontlines through sheer physical mass before launching a counter attack?"
Xun You shook his head slowly, his analytical mind processing the details of the report. "No, Zhongda. A human shield moves slowly, dragged down by the old and the weak. The report says they are racing. They are dumping their own supplies to gain speed. This does not look like an attack. This looks like a stampede of men desperate to throw themselves at our mercy."
Lu Xun stepped up to the table, a sharp, knowing smile touching his youthful features as he looked at the Emperor. "Your strategy has borne fruit faster than we anticipated, Your Majesty. The decapitation of their leaders did not just break their frontlines, it has violently unraveled the very fabric of their society. They are tearing each other to pieces out there, and the sensible ones are running to us for sanctuary."
Lie Fan read the final lines of the scouting report, a slow, cold, and deeply satisfied smile spreading across his handsome face. He set the scroll down directly in the center of the tactical map, right where the boundaries of the five tribes used to exist.
He looked at his council, his dark eyes burning with the absolute, triumphant satisfaction of a man whose calculations had completely mastered the variable of human nature.
"They are not an army, and they are not a human shield," Lie Fan declared, his voice smooth, rolling through the command tent with the absolute finality of a sovereign who had already won the future. "They are the first fruits of our eradication. They have realized that the steppes offer nothing but graves, and they are racing to see who can bend the knee to the Dragon Throne first."
He turned his gaze to Sima Yi and Xu Shu, his mind instantly transitioning from the grand strategy of the battlefield to the absolute, microscopic bureaucracy of total assimilation.
"The trap has cleared the field," Lie Fan ordered, his voice carrying the crushing weight of imperial law. "Prepare the interrogation tents. Ready the scribes. Double the guard on the perimeter, but instruct the artillery units to hold their fire. When these tribes reach our gates, we will not greet them with cannons. We will greet them with ink and parchment. We will catalog their bloodlines, strip them of their weapons, and integrate them into the registries of the empire. The north is breaking itself for us, and we will ensure it never mends again."
Hearing Lie Fan's strategic decision, everyone present in the grand pavilion respectfully nodded their heads in absolute agreement. The advisors, Sima Yi, Xun You, Xu Shu, and Lu Xun, saluted with their hands clasped before their chests, their minds already racing to coordinate the massive logistical grid required to absorb an influx of tens of thousands of souls.
The military commanders exited with crisp, synchronized steps, their heavy iron greaves clicking against the stone tiles. One by one, they excused themselves, leaving the command tent to carry out their respective orders, turning the static, snow covered frontier base into a buzzing hive of administrative preparation.
The only one who remained behind was Lu Lingqi.
The heavy leather flaps of the pavilion fell shut, instantly cutting off the sharp whistle of the northern gale outside. Inside, the quiet crackle of the charcoal brazier cast a soft, shifting orange glow across the massive mahogany table and the detailed topographical maps of the steppes.
The Emperor stood before the chests of parchment, his gaze deep and unreadable, the golden dragons on his breastplate reflecting the flickering warmth of the room.
Lu Lingqi stepped silently from her post near the entrance. Her steps were light despite the dark silver plates of her armor. She walked to the edge of the desk, looking down at the red wooden markers that represented the incoming, desperate sea of nomadic refugees. The fire of battle that usually burned within her eyes had softened into an intense, calculating curiosity.
Once they were entirely alone in the quiet sanctum, she looked at her husband and asked him a crucial question at this time.
"Husband," she began, her voice low but carrying a distinct, sharp resonance that filled the silence of the tent. "Your strategy has broken their unity before our spears could even finish the job. But these ledgers... this census you have ordered... it is a weapon of peace, not war. Tell me, if the massive documentation of these nomadic tribes is fully done, and they are officially made to become the people of Hengyuan, what will you do with their blades?"
Lie Fan turned his head slightly, his dark eyes locking onto hers. "What does the daughter of the Flying General see when she looks at them?"
Lu Lingqi stepped closer, her hand resting naturally on the pommel of her side sword as she looked back out toward the northern map. "I see an unmatched weapon," she passionately explained, her words carrying the unvarnished weight of a veteran commander who had spent her life analyzing the mechanics of combat.
"I could see it myself on the battlefield during our initial charges. Even when our cannons were tearing the sky apart and the Hwachas were raining fire upon their heads, their riders did not move like the infantry of the central plains. They are all absolute masters in riding horses and archery. It is not a skill they learn in an academy, it is the very breath of their lives from the moment they can grasp a bow."
She leaned over the table, her eyes flashing with tactical vision. "They can shoot backwards at a full gallop, they can guide their mounts with nothing but the pressure of their knees while leaving both hands free to string an arrow. If seamlessly integrated into our legions, if taught the iron discipline of our heavy formations and shielded by our armor, they would definitely become the most powerful, terrifyingly lethal ranged cavalry ever seen in your command, if you allowed it. Will you let them ride under our banners, or will you keep them chained to the dirt as farmers and laborers?"
Lie Fan listened to her sharp military observation, a warm, genuine smile breaking across his handsome face. The cold, ruthless mask of the conqueror melted away for a brief moment, replaced by the profound affection of a husband who deeply respected the martial intellect of his wife.
He walked over to her, his heavy armored hand resting gently upon her shoulder, giving it a firm, reassuring squeeze. He warmly nodded his head and firmly says that of course he will allow them to enter the ranks.
"You see the battlefield perfectly, Qi'er," Lie Fan responded, his voice rich and steady, carrying the grandfatherly weight of a man who had lived through multiple eras of human statecraft. "I have absolutely no intention of wasting the finest equestrian bloodlines on earth by forcing them to carry hoes and plows in the mud. They will ride. And they will command."
He turned back toward the table, tracing the long lines of the newly conquered territories. He explained that just like how he had previously allowed the surrendered warlord generals of the chaotic eras, the brilliant advisors of his former rivals, and the thousands of defeated soldiers to join his grand cause, the same logic applied to the steppes.
"An empire built solely on the edge of a sword is an empire that will eventually bleed to death from its own wounds," Lie Fan reasoned softly, his eyes reflecting the deep, historical patterns only he could see through the Book of Knowledge.
"When we conquered the central plains, did I execute Cao Cao's officers? Did I chain Liu Bei's advisors in the dungeons? No. I gave them robes, I gave them salaries, and I gave them commands. If these surrendered nomads are not given a genuine, honorable chance to show their loyalty to the Hengyuan banner, then how could they ever truly be loyal to us?"
______________________________
Name: Lie Fan
Title: Founding Emperor Of Hengyuan Dynasty
Age: 36 (203 AD)
Level: 16
Next Level: 462,000
Renown: 2325
Cultivation: Yin Yang Separation (level 11)
SP: 1,121,700
ATTRIBUTE POINTS
STR: 1,010 (+20)
VIT: 659 (+20)
AGI: 653 (+10)
INT: 691
CHR: 98
WIS: 569
WILL: 436
ATR Points: 0
