Chapter 109: Qi Yun

Four hundred meters away, armor shattered like paper, its power so immense it was staggering. Even more astonishing was that such an attack could be repeated ten times in succession, each one as thunderous and earth-shaking as a bolt of lightning.

When the Iron Hawks charged into battle, they would surely have been riddled with holes by the enemy's intense firepower, like sieves, utterly powerless to resist.

The Poxi Army's trebuchets, though mighty—swinging boulders like giant fists—were helpless against the enemy's firearms, for those guns could reach far enough to kill them all before they even drew near.

Just imagining five thousand enemy troops stationed at Qiyan, each holding one of these firearms, like a dense forest of steel, bullets pouring down like rain, creating a terrifying scene of hailstorm gunfire, filled them with an indescribable sense of despair.

Most desperate of all, the enemy didn't have just five thousand guns—they had fifty thousand. And the key was, they couldn't afford to hold back; if they didn't destroy them now, the enemy would eventually judge and destroy them.

Meanwhile, Guo Jing and Nie Huaishang were nearly overwhelmed; within a short time, their territory and population had doubled, requiring them to handle countless tasks—none of which could be neglected, for once lost, the people's trust would be nearly impossible to regain.

Suddenly, a peculiar energy quietly descended, spreading around them. This energy seemed to come from the distant depths of the universe—mysterious, profound, and inscrutable.

Guo Jing and Nie Huaishang sensed this energy almost simultaneously; it possessed boundless power, inspiring awe. Under its influence, they felt as if immersed in a vast expanse of heaven and earth, their hearts filled with unprecedented strength and confidence.

This strength was not merely physical, but a holistic power surging from deep within. Their thoughts grew sharper, their perception more acute, as if nothing could escape their gaze. Their spirits also grew more resilient, able to face all difficulties and challenges with calmness.

Under the influence of this energy, Guo Jing and Nie Huaishang felt as if they had been reborn, utterly transformed.

Unknowingly, those around them began to notice: these two had undergone a subtle transformation, their aura growing increasingly warm and approachable, drawing others irresistibly closer.

Yet at the same time, their dignity and solemnity grew even stronger, causing people to feel reverence even as they drew near. This blend of warmth and majesty was an ineffable charm, subtly captivating all who encountered it.

"This is Qi Yun—the unique Qi Yun of the Mongolian Plateau." At this, Guo Jing and Nie Huaishang exchanged glances, their faces filled with disbelief.

Qi Yun—the mysterious, unfathomable term—carries profound implications of fate and destiny. It is an invisible, intangible force, ever at work in every corner of the world, silently shaping the course of all things. This energy is both subtle and mighty, delicate and grand, its influence varying from person to person, from nation to nation.

On an individual level, Qi Yun acts as an invisible hand guiding one's destiny. Sometimes, it is a gentle breeze and soft rain, tenderly leading one toward success; other times, it is a violent storm, tossing one into the whirlpool of life.

On a national level, Qi Yun is called Guo Yun—it determines a nation's rise and fall, glory and disgrace. A nation's flourishing Guo Yun means economic prosperity, cultural vibrancy, and national unity; its decline may lead to social unrest, economic collapse, and widespread suffering.

In the original historical trajectory, the rise of the Mongol Yuan was an unstoppable storm. To the west, they swept across, hooves reaching the Danube River, their might like a raging gale devouring all before them. To the east, the Jin Dynasty collapsed instantly under their ferocious assault, its former glory reduced to dust beneath Mongol hooves.

To the south, neither the Western Xia nor the Great Song could resist the Mongol advance. The Western Xia's tenacity, the Great Song's splendor—all crumbled before the Mongols. Their army descended like Mount Menghuxia, unstoppable, leaving nothing but submission in their wake.

In this era, the Mongols' Qi Yun reached unprecedented heights. They were kings ordained by heaven, ruling over vast lands.

Yet what puzzled them was that this Mongol Qi Yun should belong solely to Temujin—why had it descended upon him and Nie Huaishang?

As the two were lost in confusion, Nie Huaishang suddenly spoke, his voice tinged with sudden insight: "Heaven's will follows the will of the people."

Hearing this, Guo Jing was struck as if by a sudden revelation, his mind clearing instantly.

In the original scenario, across the vast steppes, only Temujin could end the prolonged strife and war. He stepped forward, shouldering the burden of leading this land toward prosperity and peace. Under his leadership, the people of this land gradually rose, growing stronger together, forging an unprecedented glorious chapter. Thus, the land's Qi Yun seemed imbued with some mysterious power.

Now, they had not only unified the Mongolian Plateau under their rule, but after completing the pastoral reforms, every herder across the vast steppes had come to sincerely support and adore them. And so, the land's Qi Yun naturally chose them.

"Since you have chosen us, we will never make you regret your choice. Though neither of us is Mongol, and one of us isn't even from this land, I will make the people here live better than ever."

Guo Jing's expression was unusually serious and focused, as if a momentous decision was forming within him. His eyes were firm and deep, radiating unshakable resolve. Beside him, Nie Huaishang also frowned intently, listening carefully.

When Guo Jing finished speaking, Nie Huaishang nodded without hesitation—his full, heartfelt agreement and respect.

In that moment, they felt as if they had become one, facing together the challenges and opportunities ahead.