Chapter 1783: Danger Often Comes from Behind

Liu Min was just thirty years old—not old for a commander, but his experience in marching and fighting was immense. After all, his very first campaign had been the Kaibao Northern Expedition, where he personally endured the arduous yet stirring Mobei expedition.

Fifteen years of military life had long forged a cool head and unwavering will. Facing adversity, he remained calm as a mountain, unmoved, leading the Han army to actively deal with the Kara-Khanids.

Even in the most critical moments, his brow never creased. The morale of the expeditionary Han army may have slipped somewhat, but the commander's bearing was seen by all, and they followed Liu Min in holding on. Of course, the common soldiers were blindly following the crowd, having no choice but to believe that the Prince of Wei could lead them through the crisis—but the senior officers knew exactly what underpinned Liu Min's persistence.

Before the battle, Liu Min and commanders such as Yang Yanzhao had made ample preparations. Considering that the Tianshan was difficult to cross, the roads complex, and an attack from south to north too difficult—even if they could fight all the way to the Kara-Khanid capital, the losses would be incalculable.

Therefore, Liu Min had prepared two plans. His main force was imposing in scale and fought spectacularly along the way, but it was meant to draw the Kara-Khanids' attention—though it was the main attack, it also served a feinting role.

Besides Liu Min's army, another elite cavalry force moved in secret, taking the northern route, bypassing the main Tianshan range, passing through Luntai and Zhangbao, to launch a surprise attack on the Kara-Khanid state.

North of Anxi lay vast wastelands and deserts. Though the Tianshan still blocked the way there, it was far more passable than the southern foothills. This route had not been chosen before—first, because it was unfamiliar; second, because the plan to destroy the state had not yet been activated; and third, because this kind of strategy could essentially only be used once and required a single fatal blow.

This was a rather bold strategy. Flanking maneuvers were not uncommon, but circling nearly two thousand li to penetrate deep into enemy territory was pure military adventure.

Liu Min dared to think it and dared to do it—he even once planned to personally lead the detached force on the northern route. However, he was dissuaded by commanders such as Yang Yanzhao and Kang Baoyi. In Yang Yanzhao's words, he was the supreme commander of the army and could not abandon the main force. Moreover, the frontal assault—crossing mountains and rivers, breaking through passes and strongholds—was equally dangerous and faced even greater hardships, requiring Liu Min's command to steady the army's morale.

Of course, the truth was simply that they were unwilling to let Liu Min take excessive risks. Yang Yanzhao, as one who had personally experienced it, knew very well the impact when the fourth and sixth brothers were lost in Mobei back then.

As for the northern detached force, it was naturally led by Yang Yanzhao, the deputy commander. When it came to outflanking and striking from the rear, Yang Yanzhao was quite talented and experienced.

In the end, Yang Yanzhao selected six thousand elite cavalry from the Anxi army, set a time, and departed slightly later from Gaochang City, turning at Luntai and heading west. Along the boundless desert, following the northern edge of the Tianshan, they raced over a thousand li, driving straight toward Almalik, the Kara-Khanid eastern border pass.

Almalik was located on the lower reaches of the Ili River, in the northwestern part of the river valley. It was a strategic throat point and an important town on the Northern Silk Road. Perhaps because the Great Han had never shown any ambition toward this place or any intention of moving north, the garrison had no guard against Yang Yanzhao's arrival.

Even as a weary army after a long march, without rest, a single charge broke through the pass, and they easily took Almalik, the key to the Kara-Khanid eastern gate.

Afterward, with a brief rest to recover strength and energy, replenish water, and gather provisions, Yang Yanzhao swiftly advanced west again, his target aimed directly at the Kara-Khanid eastern metropolis Yijiwugu. There was little suspense there either—though the defenders of Yijiwugu included some who resisted stubbornly, they were short on troops, and after the Han army arrived at the city walls, an internal revolt broke out within the city. In less than half a month, the city fell.

The Kara-Khanid state's main attention was on the Han main force in the south, and so was its finest military strength. Its strength in the northeastern region was naturally weak. Yang Yanzhao's force was still not large in number, but they were all Han army elites with formidable combat power, not something the local Kara-Khanid garrisons could withstand.

Unlike Liu Min's main army in the south, which gnawed at hard bones and faced the Kara-Khanid main force head-on, Yang Yanzhao's force—though traveling a thousand li with tiring marches and encountering some accidents and risks—was on the whole quite smooth.

After all, the opponents they faced were different. But venturing deep into the desert and enemy territory itself meant death and danger, requiring immense courage and resolve.

At the same time, on the northern route, Yang Yanzhao achieved the goal of sustaining the war through war. Unlike the imagined gravel deserts and barren wastelands, there were many towns and pastures along the way—not as prosperous as the Great Han, but not lacking in produce.

Those living in the Kara-Khanid northeast were mostly subjugated Türgesh nomadic tribes. They accepted Kara-Khanid rule, paid tribute, and joined their campaigns. In earlier years, with the Kara-Khanid expansion, they had gained considerable benefits—war always brought plunder.

But during the eastward advance, while the Kara-Khanid central court suffered heavy losses, the more miserable ones were these northern tribes. Their people were endlessly conscripted to fill the needs of the eastern campaigns, expended in wars against the Khitan and the Great Han. Forget rewards—even returning intact was a luxury.

The further it went, the worse it became. In fact, in recent years, the Kara-Khanids had resorted to oppressive, violent rule over these vassal tribes. The tribes had long been discontent, and several rebellions had even broken out—only to be suppressed due to insufficient strength.

But the Kara-Khanid rule over the northeast was already teetering. The tribes cruelly ruled by the Kara-Khanids had long been filled with rage, and the arrival of the Han army released it completely. The fall of Yijiwugu was due to such people actively switching sides, killing and seizing the city, then greeting the imperial army with food and drink.

The smooth progress of the northern army completely exceeded Yang Yanzhao's expectations, though he was naturally pleased. With war pressing like fire, to support Liu Min's main army and share its burden, he made only a brief stop at Yijiwugu before leading the newly conscripted several thousand Türgesh troops, without pausing, continuing southwest.

In fact, after Yijiwugu fell, the Kara-Khanid capital Balasagun was already exposed to the Han army's blades. The two places were only a little over four hundred li apart, with only the Ili River between them as a barrier—terrain that could be called a flat, open plain.

Countless battle examples proved that to hold a river defense required ample preparation and sufficient strength—neither of which the current Kara-Khanid state possessed.

Thus, even the long Ili River could not stop the northern army, which broke through it with ease, driving straight to Balasagun on the banks of the Chu River. Along the way, accepting surrenders and defections, by the time they reached the enemy capital, Yang Yanzhao's force had not diminished but grown, reaching over thirteen thousand men. Because the elite troops had all gone south to resist the enemy, Balasagun's garrison numbered fewer than two thousand.

Relying on its natural defenses, Balasagun did cause some trouble for the Han army's attack, but against the hollow enemy capital, all resistance was powerless before absolute strength, and in the end it could not escape the fate of falling.

Due to the lag in communications, on the southern front, the Kara-Khanid main force was still locked in battle with Liu Min's army. When they learned that Han troops were also on the northern route and advancing toward Balasagun, the Kara-Khanid Great Khan Alimsa was completely stunned and had to wake from his dream of annihilating the Han army.

Forced by the urgent situation in the rear, he had to abandon his gains and hastily withdraw west. The Kara-Khanids' reaction naturally drew the Han army's attention. To avoid falling for an enemy trick, Liu Min did not rush to pursue at first, but after several probing pursuit engagements, he finally confirmed the situation.

Once he had his judgment, Liu Min did not stand on ceremony—he began to exert full force in pursuit. Between the two sides, the roles of attacker and defender reversed once again. Only this time, the Kara-Khanids were even more disheveled, and the outcome even more miserable.

Under the Han army's harassment, the Kara-Khanid army held out for over half a month. When they retreated to the small town of Jile, a hundred li from Balasagun, news of the capital's fall finally arrived. The Kara-Khanids could no longer hold on and collapsed into chaos.

After a battle that swept away all before it, the bulk of the Kara-Khanid main force was annihilated, and the Great Khan Alimsa fell on the battlefield.