Chapter 1678: Heavy Losses

The setting sun was like blood, and a sinister wind howled. Kucha City still lay stretched across the ground before the Han army, adding boundless desolation. War always carries immense destructiveness; after several waves of assault by the Han army, the city that had been as solid as iron half a month ago had inevitably decayed — a scene of devastation, covered in wounds.

A whole section of the city wall had even collapsed entirely, filled with blood-colored rubble, bricks, timber, and corpses. A Kara-Khanid military banner still stubbornly stood atop the ruins, fluttering in the wind, as if mocking the Han army that had been repeatedly checked.

Even in the fierce assault, there had been no reckless charging without regard for sacrifice. That broken section of wall had been blasted by the Han army with large quantities of gunpowder — this was also the most dangerous moment Kucha City had faced since the Han army's offensive began.

Yet, even at the brink of collapse, the Kara-Khanid people still held on. Of course, the price of staying on the edge of ruin was still those two words: human lives.

To plug the breach blown open by the Han army, the Kara-Khanids had lost nearly three thousand men — that was direct combat attrition. Their lives seemed infinitely cheap, able to be thrown endlessly and without a pang of regret into that meat grinder. Their nerves seemed to be made of iron as well; neither death nor pain could make them feel fear.

In comparison, Liu Min and Yang Yanzhao were somewhat more protective of the officers and men under their command. They did not want the young men under them to make meaningless sacrifices, and so they once again chose to call off the attack.

The manner of a retreat often truly reveals the quality of an army. The Han troops withdrawing from before the city clearly demonstrated this — whether in formation or in movement, they maintained perfect order. Those giving commands, those providing cover, those dragging along the wounded — everything proceeded in an orderly fashion.

This was the kind of quality that only the Han army's long-trained elite troops could display on the battlefield — something the auxiliary Militia Corps could never match.

Both Liu Min and Yang Yanzhao had experienced brutal warfare. They understood the cruel essence of war and knew the principle that mercy has no place in command. But at this moment, in this scene, they could not bear to let the cream of the Han army be consumed in a war of attrition against that pack of madmen, the Kara-Khanids.

And even so elite as they were, the Han assault troops withdrawing from the walls at the sound of the gongs all let out sighs of relief, giving one the illusion that they were fleeing. Their hurried footsteps revealed a hint of that.

The Han troops who had sallied forth gradually pulled back, and the mobile siege equipment was stored back in camp. Some rested, some had their wounds treated. Of course, the encirclement of Kucha City remained steadily maintained.

However, as the supreme commander, the Prince of Wei, Liu Min, did not return to camp with the main army. Instead, escorted by a squad of personal guards, he rode his horse outside the city, gazing silently for a long time at the stubborn city that had devoured the lives of several thousand Han officers and men.

The Kara-Khanid troops on the walls also noticed this small group. However, the city gates had long been sealed shut, and the collapsed wall was not easy to cross from their side either. They could only threaten with arrows shot from the wall top.

Yet even the strongest bows were out of range. The farthest shot fell ten zhang short of Liu Min — and even so, it startled his guards. Perhaps somewhat ironically, the arrows the Kara-Khanids shot back were standard-issue Han army arrows.

"Your Highness, the enemy city is dangerous. Please return to camp as soon as possible!" The guard captain, himself a veteran of the Mobei expeditionary army, was extremely loyal. Seeing Liu Min lingering and refusing to leave, he urged him with some anxiety.

Liu Min turned a deaf ear. His resolute face did not move a muscle. His reddened eyes stared fixedly at Kucha City — though most of his gaze lingered on the mountain of corpses piled before the city.

From beginning to end, the Han army had lost roughly four thousand men dead at Kucha City. Those who fell far from the city could still be recovered, but for most of those beneath the walls, the detestable Kucha people did not even give them the chance to collect the bodies. As a result, in subsequent assaults, many Han soldiers charged Kucha City trampling over the corpses of their comrades.

"One general's fame is built on ten thousand bones." Liu Min once again profoundly understood this truth. Unlike those generals who needed to climb upward over the corpses of their subordinates, Liu Min carried an extra measure of compassion and consideration in his heart.

Just as Liu Min's mood was growing increasingly melancholy, there was new movement on the Kara-Khanid walls. Besides the obvious activity of reinforcing and filling the breach, one by one the corpses of fallen Han soldiers were hung by the Kara-Khanids on the walls that were already soaked through with blood. From above, one could faintly hear the Kara-Khanids' provocative jeering.

Seeing this, Liu Min could no longer hold himself together. His face twitched uncontrollably several times, and his tiger-like eyes became blazing with murderous intent, his gaze filled with savagery.

"Go — summon all the generals to me!" He turned his head and ordered the guards beside him.

The guards dared not say a word. They immediately acknowledged the order and galloped off.

Soon, senior generals including Yang Yanzhao, Guo Yi, Wang Shenjun, and Murong Jiye hurried over. Seeing the scene on the walls, all of them changed color — fury blazed from every pair of eyes.

"Look, all of you — open your eyes and look well!" Liu Min did not mince words, venting his rage freely: "The Kara-Khanids are wantonly defiling the corpses of our soldiers. This is a provocation against us. I will say nothing else — if we cannot take Kucha City, how can we let those several thousand heroic spirits rest in peace!"

As soon as he finished speaking, generals immediately volunteered for battle. Whether driven by rage or by a desire to distinguish themselves, their attitudes were all extremely resolute. Some even directly proposed that after the city fell, they should massacre it, making the Kara-Khanids pay the heaviest price.

Liu Min, however, remained silent. But from his ice-cold expression, one could tell that he genuinely had that intention.

As the deputy commander directly directing the siege operations, Yang Yanzhao's face would not look good either if Kucha City could not be taken. The pressure he bore was no less considerable.

He looked up at the sky — that dying sun was already more than half hidden by the clouds, nearly about to sink below Kucha City. Reaching out to calm the restless generals, Yang Yanzhao said to Liu Min: "Your Highness, since we have already sounded the retreat, let us return to camp and deliberate at length!"

Yang Yanzhao's face could not be disregarded. Liu Min thought for a moment, then nodded slightly and said coldly: "Return to camp! First settle and comfort the troops. Tonight's military council — all officers at the rank of Commander and above will attend!"

"Yes!"

Having said this, Liu Min turned his horse's head and galloped off, cracking his whip with unusual force. The warhorse, feeling the pain, also broke into a full gallop toward the Han army camp, kicking up a cloud of dust.

Thick layers of clouds piled across the sky, almost crushing the breath out of a person. Under the night, the Han army camp lay in utter silence. Military discipline restrained anyone from making a move; in such wartime conditions, the entire camp was governed by the highest level of curfew.

The sound of wind rustling the banners was very clear. As if sensing the grievous casualties of the Han officers and men, even the neighing of the warhorses sounded like sobbing, adding a layer of sorrow.

Beneath the silent night, the only exception was the field hospital. It had been established separately, precisely to prevent those agonized moans from affecting army morale. Soldiers on the battlefield could be driven mad by blood and death, but after the madness passed and they calmed down, trauma could easily shake their will. In the end, men are but flesh and blood.

The enormous casualties had clearly exceeded the commanders' expectations. The field hospital had been temporarily expanded by two additional tents. The number of fallen soldiers was increasing almost every moment — and this was a battle with a severely lopsided casualty ratio.

As the supreme commander, Liu Min knew what he needed to do. Forgetting rest, after returning to camp, he personally toured the field hospital, comforting the heroic officers and men, staying until nightfall descended.

Fortunately, logistics were amply prepared, especially the various medicines for treating wounds. However, the limited number of military physicians still meant many soldiers died without timely treatment. Of course, for some of the severely wounded, whether they survived depended on luck. Losing an arm or a leg counted as a light wound. Even during Liu Min's consolation visits, soldiers' lives kept coming to a full stop.

"Your Highness, the brothers' deaths and injuries are too grievous!" Inside the field hospital at the foot of the earthen slope, a wounded junior officer could no longer hold it in and sobbed his grief to Liu Min.

A man of iron, who would not even blink when bleeding on the battlefield, now nearly dissolved into tears at the thought of those brothers under his command who had perished beneath Kucha City's walls. He could not stop himself, and for fear of the effect on others, he struggled to suppress it.

Liu Min was a man of deep feeling. That conflicted expression and sincere emotion moved him considerably.

The junior officer's name was Chang Guzhen, a native of Shanzhou in Guanzhong. He was the Commander of an infantry battalion under Liangzhou's jurisdiction — merely a mid-ranking officer.

Ten years ago, this man had been a nobody — a wandering martial artist biding his time to avenge a family wrong. Ten years later, he had already become a dignified battalion commander of the imperial court. The key factor lay in a slight connection he had with the Crown Prince.

Although back then Liu Yang had merely issued an instruction because he admired this man for not letting personal grudges override public law — giving Chang Guzhen a path forward — by the time it reached the execution stage, the Crown Prince's authority was fully demonstrated. He entered service as a squad leader, and from there rose step by step, all the way to battalion commander.

Of course, Chang Guzhen did not rely solely on that essentially hollow backing. He himself was highly skilled in martial arts, possessed a certain military aptitude, was diligent and ambitious, and fought with extreme ferocity. In the battle at Kucha, he was one of the officers who directly led his men on the front line.

The casualties in his battalion were naturally grievous. They had participated in the two most determined assaults, losing more than half their number. How could such a result not break his heart?

Gently patting Chang Guzhen's uninjured shoulder, Liu Min's weary eyes were filled with resolve. He said solemnly: "Our officers and men fought for the nation and died a worthy death! Precisely because so much sacrifice has been paid, we must take Kucha — we cannot let those heroic spirits down.

As for the fallen and wounded soldiers, the court's compensation will not be short a single copper coin!"