"You are my peerless army, unmatched beneath the heavens!"
K'tugul Sorgon, clad in golden armor atop a horse adorned with gem-studded trappings, raised high his ruby-encrusted sword. "Today, I lead the Celestial Might Army in person, vowing to raze the grasslands to the ground!"
The banners of the Palatine Empire snapped in the north wind, his roar echoing over the military formation. Beneath the golden mask, a pair of blue eyes burned with the flames of vengeance.
Nobles held their heads high with arrogance, urging their horses to follow behind the emperor. Their gilded armor shimmered in the sunlight alongside the emperor's golden war gear, yet the swords hanging at their waists had remained sheathed for many years.
The iron hooves of the Palatine army thundered across the border like a storm, their golden banners snapping like flames. On the surface, they were indeed an unstoppable force of imperial wrath.
Yet among the ranks, a few grey-haired nobles looked on with deep worry.
The Palatine Empire's rule over Chogoris had spanned centuries. The long years of peace had long since dulled the empire's edge for war.
Even the currently enraged Emperor Sorgon's military experience was limited to a few symbolic royal hunts before his ascension to the throne.
Those meticulously arranged hunting activities were less like actual combat drills and more like hunting games for nobles to flaunt their equestrian and archery skills.
The Palatine Empire's expedition this time was too hasty. Provisions, supplies, and logistical support were almost non-existent.
But to avenge the Crown Prince, and to respond to the provocation of the grassland, Sorgon was determined to lead the expedition personally, treating this war as nothing less than a grand hunt.
Those elderly nobles were filled with anxiety, yet they all remained as silent as cicadas in winter, none daring to offer counsel.
They had not forgotten the fate of Earl Wilson. They were old and did not wish to see their golden-haired children sent off by their white-haired selves.
Atop the peaks of the Ulaav Mountains, the scouts of the various grassland tribes had long since detected signs of the massive army's approach.
The smoke signals they lit connected into a winding, Great Wall-like line of beacons across the vast sky, indicating to the tribes' armies, poised for battle below, the direction from which the Khitan were coming.
"How do you plan to fight?" Caelan asked.
"Lure the enemy in deep."
Jaghatai raised his scimitar towards the sky. "The Kheshig follow me in the charge! The rest hold your positions here and await orders! May the Eternal Blue Sky grant its protection. This battle, we shall surely take the enemy chieftain's head!"
"May the Eternal Blue Sky grant its protection! The Khagan shall surely prevail!"
The various tribal leaders roared in unison, their scimitars carving cold, sharp arcs.
Jaghatai's Kheshig numbered only a thousand, but they were the finest warriors from each tribe. Even facing the Palatines' overwhelming army of two hundred thousand, they showed no fear.
Although this war stemmed from Sorgon's willfulness, the well-trained Palatine armys still displayed astonishing organization.
Ten thousand elite knights were deployed on each flank, their golden and silver armor gleaming like scales in the sunlight.
Within the central formation, thirty thousand heavy infantry with shields formed an impenetrable wall of bronze, while fifty thousand musketeers stood ready in the gaps between the squares. The remaining hundred thousand light infantry maintained a flexible, mobile formation, advancing with a force meant to crush everything in its path.
When the Kheshig burst forth from the Ulaav Mountains like a violent wind, the Palatine army displayed astonishing adaptability.
The central infantry squares instantly shifted from march to defense, raising a forest of spears and slamming their heavy shields to the ground;
The cavalry on the flanks also reacted immediately, each detaching an elite force of two thousand heavy cavalry, which shot forth like two drawn blades aimed directly at the incoming foe.
However, at the very moment the cavalry forces were about to clash,
Jaghatai suddenly reined in his horse. Under his lead, the entire Kheshig force swerved back into the shadows of the mountains in the blink of an eye, leaving only the Palatine cavalry waving their weapons futilely amidst the pristine white snow, cursing the cowardice of the grassland men.
"Great Khan!" A young Kheshig's face flushed red. "Lead us in one more charge!"
The veins on the back of his hand, clenched tightly around his scimitar, bulged, and his warhorse stomped its hooves impatiently on the spot.
Turning back without even engaging the enemy was utterly frustrating!
Jaghatai slowly turned his head. His hawk-like gaze scraped over the young Kheshig's face like a blade's edge.
The air instantly froze. The previously fervent Kheshig felt as if he had plunged into an icy abyss. His Adam's apple bobbed with difficulty as he forcibly swallowed the words that followed.
"A thousand light cavalry facing four thousand heavily armored heavy cavalry head-on... even with you leading them, the cost would be catastrophic," Caelan said.
The young Kheshig tightened their grips on their hilts, bold declarations of fearing not death rolling in their throats. Yet under Jaghatai's icy gaze, they felt as if frozen in an icy cavern, trembling and not daring to utter another word.
If Jaghatai Khan were to charge the enemy formation alone, he could, by himself, cut a bloody swathe through this army of two hundred thousand.
Though the Palatine army possessed heavy armor and firearms, these things posed no threat whatsoever to a Primarch, not even constituting a hindrance.
A Primarch's stamina would not flag even after fighting continuously for days and nights. He would only lament that his blade was not sharp enough and that there were not enough Palatines.
But he was currently burdened with thirty thousand dependents, forcing him to temporarily avoid the Palatine army's military might.
If Caelan were to evaluate, the grassland tribes of Chogoris could hardly be considered a nomadic people.
Because they excelled at internal strife but were incompetent in external wars.
The Palatine Empire's heavy army had never clashed head-on with the grassland tribes, and the grassland tribes were equally ignorant of this massive army.
Before Jaghatai Khan's rise, the grassland tribes were merely lambs to the slaughter before the hunting parties of Palatine nobles.
Even now, under the Khan's leadership, they had successively annihilated several hunting parties, but each victory also relied on absolutely overwhelming numbers against the enemy.
But facing the assembled two hundred thousand-strong army of the Palatine Empire, they were outnumbered and had to fight against a larger force. Recklessly charging into their formation would be no different from sheep entering a tiger's den.
"If there is a next time, you know the consequences." Jaghatai's tone was terrifyingly calm.
"Yes, Khan." The young Kheshig's Adam's apple bobbed. Jaghatai Khan's gaze made him feel as if an invisible blade were pressed against his throat.
Jaghatai Khan gently tugged the reins, his horse falling into step beside Caelan. "Give me twenty days, and I can rout them."
"Is twenty days enough?" Caelan asked.
Jaghatai Khan smiled. "The Palatines are clever enough to be wary of, yet foolish enough to be laughable."
The Palatines' strength lay in their strict military discipline and superior equipment. Not only did they possess thirty thousand infantry in heavy armor forming squares, but twenty thousand of their cavalry also included one-fifth being fully armored knights.
However, while this armed-to-the-teeth configuration granted them unparalleled defensive power, the heavy equipment also greatly diminished the troops' mobility and endurance in combat.
This was precisely the Achilles' heel of the Palatine grand army.
Perhaps the Palatine Empire was accustomed to commanding vast armies in its eastern conquests, skilled at deploying grand, imposing battle formations on open battlefields.
However, the grasslands followed an entirely different principle of war; speed was king!
"Khan!"
A scout galloped forth from the Kheshig ranks, his voice urgent. "The Khitan light cavalry are catching up!"
"How many?"
"Eight thousand riders!"
A flicker of surprise passed through Jaghatai's eyes. He had indeed laid a trap to lure the enemy deep, but given the discipline displayed by the Palatine army, he had thought this iron army would at least probe cautiously. How could they take the bait so easily?
"Don't be surprised, and don't overestimate your enemies, because they are often much worse than you imagine."
Never underestimate any enemy, but don't think of them as too clever either. This was a lesson Caelan had learned in blood.
Jaghatai's eyes flashed like lightning. He immediately issued a command, "Qin Xia, take my token and summon four thousand additional mounted archers from the tribes to rendezvous with us! The rest of the men conceal themselves here and are not to move without orders!"
If the Palatines were truly this stupid, it would actually play right into his hands.
But Jaghatai's target was never merely those eight thousand cavalry. What he wanted was the complete annihilation of the army, leaving not a single survivor!
...
"Charles, why aren't we pursuing?"
Sorgon's furious roar exploded in the wind. In the distance, the figures of the grassland cavalry were disappearing among the mountains.
His gaze, sharp as a blade, cut towards the old general behind him. 'This old fool had actually let prey right at their mouths escape!'
Duke Charles let out a heavy sigh, bowing slightly in his saddle. "Your Majesty, the terrain of the Ulaav Mountains is complex. It is highly likely an ambush lies in wait."
Sorgon's voice was laced with sharpness: "Then I ask you, how many ambushers do they have? If you don't answer, I'll tell you, at most, a few thousand! I have an army of two hundred thousand. Must we still be timid and hesitant, allowing these filthy savages to toy with me?"
Charles fell silent, but his lowered eyes could not conceal his worry.
It was true that the largest grassland tribe only had a few thousand warriors. Yet he always felt something was amiss. The grassland people had been submissive for centuries. Why would they suddenly rebel against the empire? Where was their confidence?
Charles knew nothing, hence his extreme caution.
But in the end, he did not advise Sorgon to think twice before acting, for it would be useless and might cost his son.
"I won't listen to the incompetent command of you old fools. I'll command myself!" Sorgon violently cracked his whip. A cold, sinister laugh erupted from behind the golden mask. "Issue the order, the eight thousand light cavalry are to pursue immediately! I want to see the corpses of those barbarians with my own eyes!"
The timidity of these old fools stemmed from nothing but fear that he would reclaim their military authority.
How utterly foolish!
He was the supreme emperor of the Palatine Empire. If he truly wished to strip them of their authority, why would he need to go to such lengths?
Leveling the grasslands was not merely out of love for the Crown Prince, but to uphold the dignity of imperial authority!
The Crown Prince's tragic death on the grasslands, his head even severed by the savages, was an unprecedented humiliation unseen by the Palatine imperial family in a century!
If he could not repay blood with blood, how would the nobles view him? Where would the imperial majesty be?
In any case, he had two hundred thousand men. The grassland savages had at most a few thousand. If he could lose under these circumstances, he'd... well, he just wouldn't!
Of course, if he could use this opportunity in one move to reclaim the nobles' military authority, he wouldn't mind going through a bit more trouble.
Of these two hundred thousand troops, only twenty thousand were truly under direct royal command.
The remaining one hundred eighty thousand were private soldiers maintained by the various great nobles. Those gold-and-silver-bedecked cavalry, the well-equipped infantry, even the musket regiments hailed as the empire's pillars; none were not th managed for generations private property of the nobles. The Palatine Empire was an empire in name only; in reality, it was already riddled with holes.
Those great nobles entrenched for generations each had merits in supporting the throne, and each possessed vast fiefdoms.
If they were allowed to exist unchecked, where would imperial authority be?
Taking advantage of this opportunity, he intended to promote some young nobles to high positions and replace all these old fools.
The eight thousand light cavalry charged into the mountain pass as ordered. Soon, a messenger came galloping back with a report.
"Your Majesty!"
The messenger knelt on one knee, pressing a deep imprint into the snowy ground. "There is indeed an ambush in the Ulaav valley, approximately five thousand grassland cavalry concealed at the pass! But those savages, upon seeing the empire's banners, didn't even have time to form ranks. They fled like startled deer!"
A low, cold laugh came from behind the gilded visor: "Do you see, Duke Charles? This is the ambush you feared! But savages are savages, collapse at the first blow. before the empire's iron hooves!"
"Your Majesty is most wise."
Duke Charles bowed deeply.
Though an unshakeable suspicion persistently lingered in his heart, the grassland people's retreat was too clean, too much like deliberately luring them deeper into dangerous terrain, he ultimately swallowed back both his unspoken counsel and his sigh.
Forget it. His son's life was what mattered.
...
"Ten days," Jaghatai stroked the hilt at his waist, a cold glint flashing in his eyes. "Time to close the net."
The Palatine grand army had already crossed the Ulaav Mountains. Those twenty thousand elite cavalry were like wings of iron, protecting the infantry squares without letting a single drop of water through.
If he did not cut off the Palatines' wings, the grassland tribes could not threaten the infantry.
If a blizzard that blotted out the sky and sun could descend, the grassland tribes might be able to use the cover of wind and snow to tear open the enemy's flanks.
But it was already late winter, the heavens do not grant the opportunity, and there was nothing that could be done about it.
Yet Jaghatai's plan to lure the enemy deep had succeeded. The Palatine grand army had stepped into his meticulously laid trap.
Although using only ten days for the plan was indeed rushed, he did not want to lag too far behind his brothers.
Moreover, he was a Primarch. Ten days was sufficient.
"Kheshig, follow me in the charge!"
Jaghatai Khan's scimitar carved a silver arc in the twilight. Five thousand grassland iron riders shot forth like arrows from a bow, heading straight for the enemy formation.
The Palatines were already accustomed to this tactic. For the past five days, these grassland savages had always turned abruptly just as the two armies were about to clash, vanishing into the vast grasslands like startled antelopes.
But this time, the five thousand iron riders truly charged directly at the Palatine left flank like a bursting flood. This was no feint!
"Finally willing to face us head-on?"
The Palatine cavalry commander's eyes flashed with bloodthirsty excitement. The humiliation of being toyed with for days now all transformed into a boiling fighting spirit. He raised his ornate longsword high, ignoring the herald's frantic shouts to wait for the right wing to complete the encirclement and not to leave the protective cover of the heavy cavalry. He led the eight thousand light cavalry to meet the enemy formation like a raging tide.
"These grassland savages are nothing to fear!"
The cavalry commander's lips curled into a contemptuous arc, treating the urgent horn blasts from the rear as mere background noise.
Hadn't he hunted grassland men before? Last autumn's hunt, he alone had slain seven so-called grassland brave warriors. What a fuss!
'His Majesty was right. Those old fools were too conservative. The world belonged to the young!'
They had six thousand riders. He didn't expect every rider to match his one against seven feat, but one against two shouldn't be hard. Even at one-to-one, their numbers were still superior. What did the grassland men have to fight them with?
Hoofbeats rumbled like muted thunder across the grasslands as the two cavalry forces drew closer.
But when they were barely a hundred paces apart, the cavalry commander suddenly sensed something wrong.
'Why was the enemy leader... getting larger?'
A hundred paces, a mortal sprinting at full speed would cover it in mere seconds; for a cavalry charge, it was but an instant.
The cavalry commander's astonishment was still frozen when Jaghatai Khan's scimitar descended, severing his head.
The headless corpse still clutched the reins tightly, carried another dozen or so paces by the horse before crashing heavily to the ground.
The Kheshig iron riders then plowed into the enemy formation like an avalanche, tearing the Palatine cavalry to shreds.
Their scimitars whirled like silver pythons in a frenzied dance, each slash bringing forth a spray of blood. The Palatine cavalry, now leaderless, saw its morale plummet. Under the assault of the grassland iron riders, they almost instantly disintegrated.
The two cavalry forces separated like opposing tidal waves crashing apart. The Kheshig formation remained solemn and rigid as iron, behind them leaving a trail of death paved with flesh and blood. The battlefield still echoed with the death cries of horses and men.
The Kheshig had lost only seven hundred. On the Palatine side, of the eight thousand riders who had set out, only four thousand remained.
Their numbers were still roughly equal to the Kheshig, but their morale had long since collapsed. Leaderless, they now had no will to fight, concerned only with fleeing.
Such a great victory fervented the Kheshig. Even the usually steady Qin Xia, master of the Kheshig, could hardly contain his excitement.
Only Jaghatai grew even more silent.
The reinforcements from the right wing finally arrived, belatedly. The commanding general's gaze swept over the four thousand routed soldiers. Leading his troops, he bypassed this routed band and headed straight for the enemy formation.
He had a well-thought-out plan, confident about this.
The left wing had lost due to underestimating the enemy and advancing recklessly. The grassland men were already an arrow at the end of its flight, a spent force. In contrast, his right-wing cavalry had long been conserving strength and building up energy. Victory in this battle was assured!
As for those losers, the commanding general paid them no heed at all. Rallying them would only affect morale.
Just as the Palatine cavalry were about to complete their encirclement, Jaghatai, leading four thousand Kheshig, turned their horses around like a gale wind and charged head-on towards the eight thousand cavalry.
Another charge. The commanding general's face again displayed the same stunned disbelief. Again, that familiar scimitar. Again, a head flying through the air.
The charge of the eight thousand iron riders instantly disintegrated with the commander's death, like a wave split by a sharp blade, completely collapsing before the fearless charge of the Kheshig.
To the rear, two thousand heavy armored cavalry were still strenuously giving chase, but their iron armor was too heavy. Their horses neighed, straining to run at full speed, yet could only watch helplessly as the light cavalry were slaughtered and the Kheshig rode off triumphantly, pursuing the previously routed left-wing cavalry.
The development of the battle exceeded everyone's expectations, even Jaghatai Khan's.
The discipline initially displayed by the Palatine grand army had led him to regard this force as a true formidable foe. Who could have imagined that this seemingly formidable cavalry would utterly collapse the moment they made contact?
But his plan was not flawed. Luring the enemy deep was still necessary.
If he could not lure the Palatine main force deep into the heart of the grasslands, it would be difficult to completely annihilate this grand army. If these remnants were allowed to escape back to the Palatine Empire, the grassland tribes would still encounter massive obstacles when attacking the empire.
Jaghatai ordered, "Qin Xia, have the grassland tribes rendezvous with us. Leave five thousand riders to set an ambush at the Ulaav Mountain pass. I want the Palatines to have no way to escape, even if they grew wings!"