Chapter 1276: Sweeping the Peninsula

Seeing his soldiers scattered haphazardly around him, a flash of anger crossed Yelu Hai's haggard face. He opened his mouth, but in the end, no curse came out.

He believed he had done his best—had led from the front, fought desperately at the risk of his life—but none of it could conceal the outcome of defeat, a total rout, a loss so miserable. Of the ten thousand Liao troops who had followed him from Liaoyang, only these remained after the Han army's relentless assault and slaughter. That they could still follow him without completely scattering was already something rare; how could he dare demand more of them?

In the end, he only gave the order to rest in place, and arranged for sentries and a headcount. Throughout this retreat northward, many had slipped away along the way. Now men and horses alike were exhausted, hungry and thirsty.

Once he calmed down, he finally felt the pain in his body. Through the back-and-forth clashes, he had accumulated no small number of wounds. It was only because his armor was relatively sturdy that it had spared him from a great deal of fatal damage.

Still, though a warrior does not fear wounds and pain, the body's reactions are honest. Yelu Hai's rough, resolute face had clearly lost some of its color—it was just less noticeable under the cover of night.

Several campfires were lit, not so much to ward off the cold as to provide illumination, and even more to steady the morale of the troops. A long, dark night always feels oppressive, especially after suffering such a defeat.

Of course, they were not afraid of attracting the Han army in pursuit. There was only this one main road; if the Han army truly gave chase, the posted sentries would raise the alarm, leaving ample time to react. It was just running, after all—they had been running for nearly a full day already, so they could simply continue. Besides, by Yelu Hai's own judgment, the Han army would not pursue further.

Yelu Hai was in the prime of his life, just over thirty. Though his surname was Yelu, among the Khitan imperial clan he belonged to a branch of a branch—as peripheral as could be. In his youth, he had participated in the Han–Liao wars, though back then he had only been a mid-level officer, also fighting in southern Liaoning, where under Gao Xun's command he had driven the invading army of Guo Tingwei back into the sea.

But fortunes turn, and now the tables had reversed. This time he was the commander of the southern Liaoning front, deeply trusted by the Great King of the Southern Division—and the result was a disastrous defeat, lost troops and lost cities. He faced the same opponent, yet the mode and progression of the war had exceeded his understanding. He was genuinely stunned.

The Han army's devastating weapons were used as if they cost nothing. Some he had been wary of in advance; others he had no knowledge of at all. Meeting them head-on, naturally he had smashed himself bloody.

Yelu Hai had joined Yelu Xiezhen on the western campaign and taken part in several major battles. The Liao army's western expedition could be called a military miracle, but as a general who had personally participated, Yelu Hai knew all too well how difficult it had been.

Especially in the bitter fighting against the Kara-Khanids—the cruelest being the Battle of Yanqi, where he had been tasked with holding the city to draw in and exhaust the enemy, thereby creating the opportunity for Yelu Xiezhen to shatter the Kara-Khanid army, preventing the fall of the eastern Western Regions and securing the gains of the western campaign.

Therefore, Yelu Hai had ample confidence in defensive operations. The objective Yelu Xiezhen had set for him, he even felt, had been set too small.

Yet the result was the complete opposite of what he had envisioned. In just ten days, the navy was annihilated, the city was lost, and of nearly twenty thousand troops, eight or nine out of ten were gone.

Losing was one thing—losing to the enemy's navy, even while inflicting heavy casualties on them, might have been acceptable. But nothing had gone as hoped. For Yelu Hai, who had fought with all his might, this was a tremendous blow.

As for the losses inflicted on the Han army, though there had been no tally, Yelu Hai was certain they were not large—absolutely no more than three thousand. In the cruelest city assaults, the ones who died were always the cannon fodder.

"How do I answer to the Great King?" Staring at the dim moon overhead, Yelu Hai muttered through red-rimmed eyes.

Feeling parched, he took out his waterskin, only to find it had a hole in it—the water had long since leaked out. A surge of irritability welled up, and Yelu Hai slapped himself across the face. The sound was crisp and loud, and the surrounding Liao troops all turned to look.

"General, the count is done—only a little over seventeen hundred men remain!" A junior officer moved up beside him, somewhat easing his embarrassment, and reported in a low voice: "The Han army hasn't pursued, but we've lost most of our water, food, and weapons and armor. We urgently need supplies. What do we do now?"

"Where are we?" In the oppressive atmosphere, Yelu Hai finally spoke.

"Two li ahead is the fork in the road—west leads to Fuzhou, north to Ningzhou!" the officer reported.

"We go to Ningzhou!" Yelu Hai ordered coldly. "Send men to Fuzhou—have all the garrison troops there pulled out and withdrawn to Ningzhou. Tell them to bring every able-bodied man, leave the old and weak behind, take as much grain as they can carry, and burn everything else!"

Hearing these words and facing his bearing, even the officer could not help but feel a chill, and he hesitated: "Does the General intend to hold out at Ningzhou?"

Reflecting on the pain of defeat, Yelu Hai had clearly calmed down. He shook his head: "The defense of Suzhou was wrong from the very start. One wrong step, then every step after—we lost our composure and brought about this great defeat.

Now the main army is destroyed and morale is gone. With just the men we have and the troops of Fuzhou and Ningzhou, even if the Han army continues north, we still cannot hold them. We must concentrate our forces and go beg the Great King for forgiveness and reinforcements!"

"We must hurry—the Han army could march north at any moment!" Yelu Hai stood up, as if his fighting spirit had returned, and gave stern orders: "Pass the word—we move out now. Ningzhou is not far. Tell the men we'll rest and regroup once we reach Ningzhou city!"

Lured ahead by the promise of food, drink, and rest, and driven by the pressure of military orders, this defeated army, under Yelu Hai's command, quickly withdrew north toward Ningzhou.

The Han army was faster than Yelu Hai had imagined. On the very next day, Shi Yande was already leading his troops north, and a detachment of the navy's warships split off to accompany him.

Yelu Hai's scorched-earth scheme did not fully succeed at Fuzhou—there had not been enough time. In the end, only the thousand-odd garrison troops stationed there fled north in haste, and though they did set a fire, the city's residents put it out.

But at Ningzhou, Yelu Hai carried it out to the fullest. All able-bodied men were gathered up, given only a little dry rations, and then the city was burned and the grain destroyed. Without a trace of reluctance, he continued his retreat north.

Yelu Hai clearly understood that holding was impossible. Rather than resist stubbornly in the south, it was better to abandon decisively, concentrate his forces, stretch out the Han army's supply lines, and cause them trouble. The ruined city walls and the old and weak—no matter how the Han army dealt with them, they would be a nuisance.

It was only a matter of insufficient time; otherwise, Yelu Hai could have made his scorched-earth policy even more thorough. Naturally, this situation made the Han army advancing northward curse loudly. Though the Han army's logistics came mainly by sea, seeing the shore so ravaged by the Liao troops, anger was unavoidable.

On Yelu Hai's side, he retreated all the way to the more northerly Chenzhou, destroying as he went. The Han army, rested and resupplied, followed close behind. The entire Liaodong Peninsula had essentially fallen into Han hands, and the Great Han's navy freely penetrated deep into the Liaodong Bay.

Standing before the Han army were only two places—Chenzhou and Yaozhou—just like Jinzhou to the west, strategic points that gripped the throat of Liaodong, the southern gateway to Liaoyang. To advance further, one had to pass through here.

On Guo Tingwei's side, as he swept across the peninsula and knocked on the gateway's door, the fighting at Jinzhou was likewise in full fury. For a moment, as far as Liao was concerned, the situation in Liaodong had become precarious indeed.