"Listen." The voice of Jaghatai Khan cut across the wilderness like northern wind. "I give you only two choices: submit, or face the wheel execution."
Day after day, the Khan continued the unfinished conquest he had vowed to complete.
As the starting point for his domion of the stars, the steppe must be unified, and it would be unified.
The Huanjan tribe was one of the largest on the steppe, boasting thousands of warriors.
Yet when the Khan led his army to surround the Huanjan's ger, they surrendered almost immeadiately.
For the Khan had already united over a hundred tribes, great and small. Tens of thousands of riders now marched under his banner.
The iron cavalry of the Huanjan could sweep aside any single tribe on the plains, but when facing the combined might of over a hundred? Even the bravest warriors felt their courage collapse at the thought of drawing their blades
Except against the Haelun tribe, the Khan, though he often used the threat of wheel execution as intimidation, had never actually carried it out, because these tribes knew better than to test him.
The Huanjan tribe was no exception.
"Jaghatai Khan!" Habtu Khan of the Huanjan tribe rode forth, his horse's iron hooves kicking up clouds of dust. His scimitar pointed directly at the enemy formation, his voice thundered.
"Do you dare face me in single combat? If you win, the Huanjan tribe will surrender at once! If you lose, you must withdraw your army!"
This so-called duel was merely a pretext, a way to find a graceful way out.
If they simply knelt in submission the instant the Khan rode in, that would be too humiliating.
But if they lost honorably in a duel and were forced to submit, the story would at least allow them to retain a shred of dignity.
It would even make the Huanjan look honorable, people who keep their word, who accept defeat like men.
"On horseback, or on foot?" Jaghatai asked.
"By the Eternal Blue Sky!" Habtu Khan laughed, slapping his saddle. "We are the eagles of the steppe! Of course, we settle this on horseback!"
"I grant you the first strike." Jaghatai sat upright on his horse, his own saber still sheathed.
"Then be careful!"
Jaghatai utter disregard enraged Habtu , who let out a furious shout and dug his boots hard into his horse's flanks. His steed neighed and charged towards his opponent, the scimitar drawing a cold arc under the blazing sun.
Jaghatai Khan suddenly leaned forward, his hand precisely seizing the other's wrist with an iron grip. With a powerful heave of his arm, he lifted Habtu Khan clean off his saddle into the air!
Thud!
Dust flew as Habtu crashed heavily to the ground.
He stared blankly at the blue sky, the ringing sound of his dropped scimitar still echoing in his ears.
'What… just happened?'
Jaghatai smoothly dismounted, his leather boots stirring up small puffs of dust. He looked down at his fallen opponent, then unexpectedly extended a hand towards Habtu.
"If you refuse to accept this, we can make it best of three."
A bitter smile tugged at Habtu's lips. He hadn't even seen how he was defeated. Even a best-of-three would only bring more humiliation upon himself, making the Huanjan tribe look like sore losers.
An eagle of the steppe could have its wings broken, but it must not lose its proud spirit.
His rough, large hand tightly gripped Jaghatai's wrist, and he couldn't suppress a grunt as he pulled himself up, leveraging the other's strength.
Gritting his teeth against the pain wracking his body, he drove his right knee heavily into the sandy ground, sending up tiny particles of dust.
"The scimitars of the Huanjan tribe are yours to command from this day forward," his voice was hoarse but loud, his forehead almost touching Jaghatai's riding boots. "May the Eternal Blue Sky bear witness, you are our one and only Great Khan!"
The wind of the steppe swept between the two men, stirring Habtu's loose braids.
His bowed head and straight spine formed a peculiar contrast, both submission to a stronger force, and the preservation of a warrior's final dignity.
Jaghatai Khan held Habtu's elbows with both hands, a rare gentleness flickering in his eyes. "I swear by the Eternal Blue Sky, the Huanjan tribe will be integrated into the Talskars tribe like all the others. We shall be as one family."
"From now on, our gers will stand on the same pastures, our children will water their horses in the same streams."
"Let the blood feuds of a thousand years melt away like last year's snow. When the grazing grass turns green again next year, there will be only brothers sharing kumis on the steppe, no more enemies plundering each other!"
.....
"Slaughter them all!" Mortarion's voice was colder than a glacier. "Leave none alive, men, women, children, all of them!"
Upon the peaks of Barbarus, Overlords were as numerous as the stars. Each mountain range was occupied by an arrogant ruler, but only one per range, for no mountain can tolerate two tigers.
Mortarion and the Death Guard had already leveled dozens of treacherous peaks. His scythe had harvested the heads of countless Overlords.
But today he faced a situation he had never encountered before, this Overlord was not alone.
The Scythe fell, the Overlord's head tumbled to the ground, yet his body still stubbornly blocked the doorway.
Mortarion stepped through the pool of blood and pushed open the door.
Inside, a mother crouched in the corner, arms locked around two children like iron bars.
Her back was arched like a desperate she-wolf driven into a dead end, a guttural snarl trembling in her throat.
Yet, Mortarion felt not a shred of pity.
Had she been human, she would have been a mother worthy of deep respect. But she was an Overlord.
Mortarion's great scythe traced a cold, sharp arc. The grotesque head fell with a thud. The children's heart-rending wails trembled in the blood-tainted air, earning only an icy glance from him.
"Slaughter them all."
Skorval and the other Death Guard rushed into the room with haste. 'If we can't take on adult overlords, surely we can handle one not of age.'
Typhon rubbed his forehead helplessly. "Why do I feel like we're the villains here?"
Cyril raised an eyebrow. "You sympathize with them?"
"What bullshit! Which of your eyes sees me pitying an overlord?! That's slander! I'm going to sue you!"
Although Typhon was a hybrid of Overlord and human, and although the Overlords might once have been human, the cruel fact that they had no reproductive isolation with humans hinted that in a distant past, these terrifying creatures likely shared common ancestry with the people of Barbarus.
However, the xenos genes had flooded over the banks of humanity, eventually washing these former kin into the monstrous forms they now possessed.
But Typhon could not muster a single drop of pity for the Overlords. Whatever the Overlords once were, they were now tyrants perched upon the high mountains of Barbarus, cruelly enslaving the people of this land.
'Xenos are guilty by birth. They deserve to die!'
Cyril tilted her head, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Then sue me. Who are you going to complain to? Mortarion or Teacher Caelan?"
Mortarion's gaze briefly rested on the bickering Typhon and Cyril. The vibrant humanity within Typhon was flourishing more each day. His prestige among the resistance fighters now arguably rivaled Mortarion's own.
Mortarion was the silent warrior-leader revered and respected.
Typhon had integrated more thoroughly. He fought shoulder-to-shoulder with the fighters on the battlefield, and during rest periods, he would drink with them on the fire.
Mortarion inspired awe; Typhon inspired affection.
Mortarion felt no jealousy. Typhon's popularity was well earned.
....
"Hunting party. There!"
Jaghatai Khan tightened his reins, his horse's hooves striking sparks on the rugged mountain rocks.
He followed the outstretched arm of Qian Xia, and saw the distant horizon boiling, dust churning like a wounded great beast in its death throes.
The Palatine Empire ventured deep into the steppe for hunting every year, most frequently in spring. The Palatines called it 'spring outings'.
But their hunts knew no season. Whenever a noble felt the whim, they would lead their fully armed private soldiers onto the steppe.
A hunting party could number from a hundred to over a thousand.
Since ancient times, the hunting parties of the Palatine had been the scourge the steppe tribes dreaded.
Weak tribes were helpless before them, lambs to the slaughter.
Powerful tribes had the strength to resist, but fear of their vicious reprisals kept them from acting lightly.
But Jaghatai swore he would end the era of Palatine free reign on the steppe!
"Pass the order!" the Khan commanded, his voice rumbling like a storm. "All units prepare for battle! We will make the Palatines pay their blood debt!"
"Upside down," Caelan murmured, watching the distant hunting party, his heart filled with complex emotions.
Jaghatai Khan asked abruptly, "You don't like the steppe?"
"It's not about liking or disliking. It's just that Chogoris differs greatly from the steppe as I understand it."
On ancient Terra, it was always the nomadic peoples who raided the agrarian civilizations.
Even when agrarian civilizations established unified dynasties and could muster massive armies to campaign deep into the steppe, the wars never lasted long.
Logistics and finances couldn't sustain it. Even the most elite armies found it difficult to fight prolonged wars. Sending small forces in batches into the steppe, as the Palatine Empire did, was the most foolish. Isolated, these forces would soon be surrounded and annihilated by the steppe tribes, like lambs thrown to a wolf pack, never to return.
But on Chogoris, it was the steppe tribes who, for thousands of years, failed to achieve unity. Consumed by internal strife, they allowed the Palatines to run rampant, even calling the Palatines 'Khitan'.
If Genghis Khan knew of this in the afterlife, he'd probably be turning in his grave.
But this is the Warhammer universe. Genghis Khan has most likely ascended to become a Daemon Prince of something.
"What if I unified Chogoris?"
"And after unification?"
"The Emperor will come for me."
"What if He doesn't?"
"But you told me He would."
"I said the Emperor would come, but I don't know when. Maybe a year, maybe ten years. In those ten years, how will you govern Chogoris?"
Jaghatai fell silent, for he had never considered this question.
Caelan shook his head slightly, a knowing smile touching his lips.
Because wasn't this exactly Jaghatai?
Jaghatai was born an untamed eagle, destined to soar the highest heavens. No matter how vast the land, it would only cage him.
Unifying the steppe tribes was to stop the steppe people from killing each other.
Conquering the Palatines was to stop the Palatines from oppressing the steppe tribes.
But after the conquest?
Jaghatai Khan enjoyed the process of conquest, not the bland rule that followed. The tedious work of governance had never been within the Khan's consideration.
The opposite of Roboute, Jaghatai Khan was utterly unsuited for administration.
As a Primarch forged by the Emperor's own hand, Jaghatai Khan certainly possessed the ability to govern.
Even if it couldn't match Roboute's super-brain, it would still far surpass any mortal administrator.
But rulership was precisely the gilded cage for the eagle, and the Khan never compromised.
So even if he unified Chogoris, he would likely let it revert to its former state. The steppe tribes would fall back into their tribal ways.
Russ letting the Fenrisian tribes remain scattered was out of necessity, as Fenris's conditions didn't allow all tribes to unite and live on the same land, neither the resources nor the space existed.
Chogoris had such conditions, yet Jaghatai would still choose to let them remain scattered, ultimately because he didn't want to be bound by the responsibility of governance.
That's why, when the Emperor arrived, Jaghatai Khan was deeply relieved.
Not only could he campaign among the stars, but he was also freed from the shackles of the throne and paperwork. It was a double blessing.
But on Chogoris, without its Primarch, the once-unified steppe fractured again into warring nomadic tribes.
This ensured the Legion's culture was preserved, but Jaghatai Khan had also broken his promise, for he had vowed to end the internecine strife of the steppe tribes. He had only paused it for a little over a decade.
"Do you know what path dependency is?"
"You can just teach me."
"But I'm not sure if you're willing to listen. Some eagles would rather have their wings broken in a storm than listen to an old herdsman prattle on about avoiding thunderclouds."
"You know now."
"Which is why I'm preparing to teach you." A faint, elusive smile played on Caelan's lips. "Path dependency refers to the phenomenon where once people make a certain choice, it's like stepping onto a path of no return. The force of inertia causes that choice to continually reinforce itself, making it easy to stay on that path and hard to leave."
"Anyone can fall into path dependency. For example, when I teach you, I might apply the successful experiences I gained from teaching your other brothers. And the successful experiences I gain from teaching you might also be used on your other brothers. That, too, is a form of path dependency."
"What about my brothers? Like Mortarion."
"Mortarion suffered greatly under the Overlords in his early years. If he viewed that suffering as a trial, a way to temper his resilience, then he developed a path dependency. But the current him has stepped off that established path."
"And me? What is my path dependency?"
"Are you sure you want me to tell you?"
"I have an answer, but I need your response to confirm it."
"Nomadism." Caelan's voice was low and certain. "You will imprint this nomadic habit onto your Legion, just like moving tents from pasture to pasture. It will become a mark you carry throughout your life, one you cannot shake off."
"Is that good or bad?"
"Path dependency is just a theory. It is a neutral concept in itself, neither good nor bad."
"When a herdsman on the steppe first finds lush water and grass, he follows that route year after year. The lush pasture makes his tribe grow stronger. This is path dependency."
"When someone receives positive feedback for doing good deeds, it forms a virtuous cycle of behavioral reinforcement. This sustained pattern can evolve into a long-term behavioral pattern. This is also path dependency."
Jaghatai's voice was deep and cold: "But lush pastures often attract raids from other tribes. And even the lushest pasture will eventually be exhausted."
"Someone doing good deeds might one day fail to receive positive feedback, instead getting extorted for helping someone. Can his path dependency be maintained then?"
"I cannot give you the answer. That is for you to consider."
Jaghatai's gaze was sharp as a blade, looking into the distance.
Path dependency could allow advantages to accumulate, giving him the upper hand when clashing with enemies.
But it could also trap a person. If someone discerned the pattern, he could find himself in danger because of it.
So, should he simply abandon path dependency then?
"Compromise."
Jaghatai Khan already had his answer. The philosophy of compromise was universally applicable.
If the nomadic habit was his path dependency, even if he abandoned it, a new path dependency would arise.
Even if he kept abandoning path dependencies, the act of abandoning path dependency would itself become a path dependency.
Jaghatai Khan would not deny his flaws; he would strive to remedy them.
Perhaps the nomadic tribes would split again after his departure, but this split must be different because of his unification.
Jaghatai Khan would not eradicate the habits of the other tribes, but he would give them a unified identity.
The nomadic habit would be imprinted on his Legion, but the Legion would definitely not remain static because of it.
They needed to learn new ways of war, not fall into the cycle of path dependency.
If path dependency was discerned, it became like a set pattern in a board game, easy for an opponent to counter.
Then let his path dependency become complex and diverse. Let the superposition and variation of multiple paths weave an intricate web, making it impossible for the enemy to grasp its meaning.
This, too, was a form of compromise.
"And you." Jaghatai Khan slowly leaned forward, his hawk-like eyes capturing Caelan.
Caelan was taken aback. "There's something about me too?"
Jaghatai's gaze was piercing: "Think of a way for me. How to govern the my domain!"
Jaghatai knew his own character well. He definitely wouldn't do the governing himself, the untamed eagle would not be caged.
But he couldn't just rule without governing; that would be too beastly.
Having his sons rule would also be difficult. His sons would inherit his temperament. Asking them to settle down and govern would also be a torment.
So, why not hand the problem over to the ever-capable Caelan?
Caelan suggested tactfully: "Your other brothers have all established… inclusive organizations. Konrad is for justice, Lorgar is for destroying religion, Russ and Corax are for brotherly harmony. Why don't you also establish one, specifically to manage your domain on your behalf?"
Jaghatai Khan slowly gathered his hawk-like gaze. "I'll consider it."
Although his ambitions lay elsewhere, letting his brothers manage his domains for him… that was perhaps too trusting. Might as well let the Imperium handle it.
Even if he truly had to seek help from his brothers, he must ensure they were as trustworthy as Caelan.
If not, he could only rely his sons, making the governance a mandatory lesson.
Mortarion wasn't bad. Though childish, he was straightforward and reserved.
Jaghatai Khan rather liked him.
As for the other… they remained to be evaluated.
"Teacher."
"Want me to take a message to little Mo?" Caelan was used to it by now. These two brothers were just like this.