Chapter 22: Great Ming Army Movements!

Just one slash.

The Tartar soldier who charged out was instantly beheaded.

“Slain Tartar foot soldier, gained 20 stamina.” the panel prompted.

But Zhu Ying kept swinging his blade, the warhorse charging forward.

The battle blade swung.

Each strike carried the force of smashing the cauldron and sinking the boat—no ordinary man could block such a blade.

In an instant.

Several more Tartar soldiers fell to Zhu Ying’s hands.

“Slain Tartar foot soldier, gained 20 strength.”

“Slain Tartar foot soldier, gained 20 speed…”

More prompts followed.

Attributes increased.

As Zhu Ying struck out.

The cavalry of the First Battalion also moved in.

They mercilessly slaughtered the Tartar soldiers who dared to raise their blades in resistance.

Hundreds of cavalry charged together, encircling and annihilating.

Almost in the blink of an eye.

The hundred-plus Tartar soldiers were all slaughtered.

But these Tartar civilians remained surrounded by cavalry, now trembling with fear and hatred as they stared at the surrounding Great Ming horsemen.

“Battalion Commander.”

“How shall we deal with these people?”

Zhang Wu pointed to the thousands of Tartars.

“If our Great Ming people fell into these Tartars’ hands, how would they treat them?” Zhu Ying turned to Zhang Wu and asked in return.

“The men are killed, the women are raped.”

Zhang Wu answered without hesitation.

As a border soldier of the northern frontier.

Zhang Wu knew well.

Because they bordered the Northern Yuan, villages were often slaughtered and clans wiped out whenever the Northern Yuan invaded.

War, after all, is extremely brutal.

Once they breach, there will be no order, for these northern Tartars worship slaughter—the most primitive kind—with none of the Han civilization’s refinement.

As a reincarnated soul.

Zhu Ying knew clearly how the Tartars would treat Han people in the future: the Yangzhou Three Days, the Jiading Three Massacres, “keep your hair or keep your head, but not both”—all events that would occur later, where countless Han civilians were slaughtered.

“If so.”

“Then let’s follow their northern rules.”

Zhu Ying turned his head and said coldly: “Kill anyone taller than a cartwheel.”

There wasn’t enough grain to feed so many, nor enough troops to guard them.

Besides, carrying them would be a burden.

If so,

then we must cut down all their fighting strength—that is war.

Nothing else matters.

“We obey the Battalion Commander’s order.”

Zhang Wu and Fan Qing immediately accepted the command.

With a wave of his hand,

many cavalry dismounted, drawing their swords.

Using the cartwheel as the measure.

Instantly,

a chorus of wails and screams erupted.

And Zhu Ying

felt no turmoil.

If the roles were reversed, they would treat Great Ming civilians even more brutally—with no survivors.

“War!”

Zhu Ying watched the scene coldly, feeling a deep sorrow within.

“This era is the dawn of the Great Ming, yet in the future, the Tartars will seize the Central Plains and enslave the Han people.”

“But since I, Zhu Ying, have come—”

“I will not let any of this happen.”

“When that day truly comes, I will live forever, and I will have the power to build an army capable of annihilating the Tartars—founding a state, achieving imperial ambition.”

“The massacres of the future, the Han traitors—I will never let them appear again.”

“Since I’ve come, I must do something,” Zhu Ying thought inwardly.

In recent days,

after the border clash with the Tartar frontier army, the Tartars offered no resistance and were retreating rapidly toward larger tribes.

Bu Wan immediately ordered the Great Ming to pursue relentlessly—kill any Tartar encountered.

After taking command of the First Cavalry Battalion, Zhu Ying followed his superiors’ orders, leading his cavalry northward, slaying many Tartar stragglers and young men along the way.

“Battalion Commander.”

“All Tartars taller than a cartwheel have been executed.”

Zhang Wu rode up to report.

“Seize all their grain, then press north to rejoin the main army.”

“Treat all Tartars this way from now on.”

“Kill their young men, cut off their food.”

“If they manage to escape back to their tribes, so be it—it only drains their own grain supplies,” Zhu Ying instructed.

“Your servant obeys.”

Zhang Wu replied respectfully.

“The Tartar frontier has collapsed; they’ve surely sent for aid to the Yuan court.”

“And Jianzhou Tartars aren’t just a force of ten thousand—they’re gathering more troops, plus reinforcements from the Northern Yuan.”

“The real battle is coming.”

“I wonder where the imperial court’s main army has reached,” Zhu Ying thought inwardly.

Though the Great Ning border troops have stormed into the northern frontier and crushed the Tartars, who now scatter in flight, these are merely frontier tribes—true subjugation of the Tartars requires exterminating their entire race, which is nearly impossible.

The northern frontier is hardest to conquer because of its vastness, its shifting directions; they can flee, flee wildly, then rebuild their strength.

This is one reason why every central dynasty has faced the northern threat.

…

Jianzhou Tartar Tribal Seat!

Across this vast northern frontier,

“Tartar” is merely the Han people’s general term for the northern barbarians.

The Jianzhou Tartars are not a single tribe but divided into three factions.

Jianzhou Tartars are the strongest, while the other two remain farther north.

“Chieftain.”

“The Ming army has launched a massive invasion into our lands; many of our people have been slaughtered.”

“The Ming forces are approaching the Blue Banner Tribe—though they have troops stationed there, the Ming numbers seem overwhelming; they may not hold.”

“The Blue Banner Tribe’s chieftain, Agunu, begs you to send reinforcements swiftly.”

A Tartar general bowed respectfully before the chieftain, Aha Chu, seated on the throne.

“Do not panic.”

“The Ming won’t last much longer.”

“I’ve already sent for aid to the Great Yuan.”

“Taiwei Naha Chu has dispatched troops to reinforce us,” Aha Chu said grimly, utterly unconcerned.

“Chieftain.”

“The Han are no longer the Han of old under the Yuan court.”

“In this war with the Ming, we’ve lost over ten thousand of our finest warriors and thousands of warhorses.”

“And tens of thousands of our people have been hunted down.”

“If we continue to oppose the Ming directly, our tribe may suffer catastrophic losses,” a Tartar general spoke up.

In this tribe, there was no distinction between civil and military—only strength ruled, and plunder was their creed.

Yet some knew the true power of the Great Ming Empire.

If it were only our tribe, we truly could not stand against the Great Ming.

But the Great Yuan still exists, with a million mighty soldiers; sooner or later, we will once again storm the Central Plains and destroy this Ming regime.

This time, our tribe follows the Great Yuan’s decree; when we launch our counterattack, Naha Chu, the Grand Marshal, has promised our tribe a vast and fertile land, allowing us to enter Liaodong.

Relocating southward.

Aside from the former direct tribes of the Great Yuan, who else could gain such an opportunity? Aha Chu’s eyes burned with fervor.

Clearly.

He had been completely swayed by Naha Chu’s offer.

This was the very reason he obeyed the Yuan court’s decree and opposed the Great Ming.

……

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(End of Chapter)