Chapter 0103 Myriad Transformations

Chapter 0103 Myriad Transformations

During the second hour of the Ox period (1:00-3:00 AM), it is typically the time when individuals slumber most profoundly. Nevertheless, the Xianbei emperor, reclining on his imperial couch, had his eyelids quivering with such intensity that it seemed as though he might rouse at any instant.

This was actually quite strange because in Xianbei culture, they had no concept of dragons. But when the Murong clan seized power from the Yewen clan, they claimed to have seen an auspicious omen—a dragon circling the peak of Xianbei Mountain three times before slowly departing.

Thus, the Murong clan always boasted that their rule was divinely ordained, guided by heaven to govern this land. Although their glory faded after defeating the Yewen clan—after all, the Yewen clan had once unified Central China—the Murong clan made several southward invasions, each ending in failure. Despite this, their dream of conquering Central China never wavered.

Wasn't this tragic? Generation after generation, several emperors spent their entire lives trying to invade other nations. Look at Di Fazeng; his gaze never rested on Central China, yet he achieved accomplishments few could match globally. The Xianbei had opportunities; their emperors started with far greater advantages than Di Fazeng. Unfortunately, they insisted on clinging to their ancestors' pitiful legacy, ultimately becoming part of it themselves.

...

This emperor was different from his predecessors. He was not warlike, and no one could predict what Xianbei would become under his rule—it might improve or deteriorate. However, his timing was terrible. From the day he ascended the throne, his seat at the table of power had already been removed.

Murong Qi was having a nightmare.

Murong Qi was the current Xianbei emperor. The Xianbei, originating from Great Xianbei Mountain, their ancestral homeland, loved using characters related to wood and stone in their names after learning Central Chinese culture. This showcased their strength and adherence to their roots. Initially, they were mountain dwellers like the Butewu tribe, but over centuries, they transformed into nomadic tribes.

But this history mattered little to Murong Qi. He could only focus on the present, such as the nightmare he was experiencing now.

He dreamed of Sheng Le city engulfed in flames. His body shrank, and he felt like a child again, wearing an oversized dragon robe that dragged on the ground, making him unable to run fast. He ended up cowering under the bed, trembling.

Outside, screams and cries filled the air. Many had died, though Murong Qi couldn't see them, he knew it clearly. Suddenly, someone burst into his room. He watched as a pair of muddy, sturdy boots approached him. Following the boots upward, he saw two thick calves. This person was more formidable than even the general. Murong Qi realized who it was.

This was the Northern Pacification King, whom he had never met but appeared in every nightmare.

A rough scraping sound echoed—the Northern Pacification King's weapon dragging across the floor, inching closer and closer until it stopped right in front of him—

"Your Majesty!!!!"

Murong Qi jolted awake, drenched in sweat, panting heavily. He sat up abruptly, unable to think clearly. He looked at the person who had rushed in, who looked at him with sorrow, bringing news he wasn't surprised to hear: "Your Majesty, North Gate has fallen!!!"

For the Xianbei living in Sheng Le, they had no idea how the Northern Pacification Army had entered.

But the fact remained—they had. The Northern Pacification Army split into two groups. One group brutally kicked open nearby doors, dragging people out by their hair, forcing them onto the streets. Those who cooperated were bound, while those who resisted were killed instantly.

The other group continued advancing along the main roads, clashing with the Xianbei army. Amidst the chaos, the bound Xianbei people, uncertain of their fate, could see the Northern Pacification Army's triangular formation tearing through their ranks. At the tip of the triangle, a bright silver weapon flashed continuously, sometimes disappearing due to blood, losing its shine momentarily, only to reappear, claiming another life. This cycle repeated endlessly.

Despite their imminent death, these people couldn't look away from that glint. They had never witnessed such a god of slaughter or a god of war. They realized, clearer than ever, that Xianbei was truly finished.

Not everyone remained silent. Cries and curses filled the streets, but the Northern Pacification Army didn't understand, as they spoke Xianbei. Compared to these angry voices, the Xianbei palace was in even greater turmoil.

The emperor's guards gathered, hoping against hope that summoning reinforcements might push back the invaders. However, the guard leader received even worse news.

"The South Gate is also under attack?! Damn it—these Central Chinese came prepared! How many troops did they send?!"

The messenger seemed on the verge of tears: "General, it's too dark for scouts to see clearly, but there might be 300,000 soldiers!"

The guard leader stared blankly, speechless.

300,000 soldiers? That meant the entire Northern Pacification Army was here, determined to annihilate Xianbei tonight. Even if the main force managed to return, it would be too late.

In the emperor's chambers, elderly nobles surrounded the young emperor, waiting for news. When the guard leader entered, he immediately grabbed the emperor's arm: "Your Majesty, to the secret passage!"

The emperor and nobles were stunned. This was their last resort. The reality finally sank in.

Murong Qi stumbled alongside the guard leader, while the nobles quickly dispersed, likely to protect their families or themselves. Murong Qi didn't linger on their actions; he focused on the familiar dragon bed where he once felt so excited.

The Xianbei often mocked Emperor Guangjia, who fled south before the battle began, calling the current Yong Dynasty the Southern Yong. They claimed the Yong Dynasty was extinct, and Emperor Guangjia was a fallen ruler, with the Southern Yong merely struggling to survive.

Whether Emperor Guangjia was a fallen ruler, Murong Qi didn't know, but he knew he was one now.

Meanwhile, at the South Gate.

Xiao Rong and Qu Yunmie had agreed to attack simultaneously when the moon reached its zenith. On one side, Jian Qiao and Yuan Baifu would ambush the Xianbei army, while on the other, Qu Yunmie would scale the city walls and head north.

Since the Xianbei army was a few miles from the true South Gate, even if someone returned to warn them, the time difference would allow Qu Yunmie to open the North Gate. By the time news of the North Gate's fall reached them, the battle would have raged for at least half an hour.

Retreating then would be impossible.

No one anticipated a two-front battle. Even if the Xianbei general noticed something amiss, he couldn't spare attention elsewhere as the Northern Pacification Army surged forward, seemingly intent on breaking through the South Gate today.

Both sides fought with all their might. Xiao Rong blinked, and hundreds of lives vanished.

Xiao Rong stood outside his tent, Yu Shaoxie beside him, both staring intently ahead. It was now the third hour of the Chou period (2:00-3:00 AM), but no one felt sleepy.

Suddenly, a scout who had been observing the battlefield ran back, shouting from his horse: "Mr. Xiao, the Xianbei are retreating!"

Instantly, Xiao Rong felt his heart sink and then rise. The Xianbei's retreat meant Qu Yunmie's mission succeeded, but he couldn't let them withdraw. If the main force returned to Sheng Le, the city's inhabitants would be in danger.

Xiao Rong raced to a horse, mounting it faster than ever. Without a saddle, he didn't care; riding was now a necessity, not a hobby.

He galloped toward the battlefield, shouting at the top of his lungs: "Stop them! Don't let them return! The King has entered the city! Sheng Le has fallen! Soldiers, hold the Xianbei and protect the King!!!"

With 300,000 soldiers plus 200,000 Xianbei, the battlefield was vast. Xiao Rong's voice reached only a few hundred, but scouts repeated his words, spreading the message throughout the core of the battle.

Gongsun Yuan pulled his sword from a Xianbei soldier's chest, covered in blood, his eyes wild. Hearing the distant shout, he laughed maniacally: "Sheng Le has fallen! These barbarians will die today! Men, follow me! Kill! Kill! Kill!"

Adrenaline coursed through Gongsun Yuan, and the other soldiers were similarly driven. Even Jian Qiao, red-eyed from battle, shouted: "Stop those who try to flee! Those who kill the most will be richly rewarded!"

Even Yuan Baifu roared encouragement, spurring his troops. Xiao Rong's heart pounded, hearing the echoing shouts. Everyone spoke differently, but all were fueled by passion.

The news of the King's entry boosted morale immensely. No one complained; they were immersed in primal euphoria.

Could they stop all the Xianbei? Xiao Rong didn't know, and there was nothing more he could do.

Horse hooves sounded from behind, and Xiao Rong turned to see Yu Shaoxie catching up. Seeing that he had stopped outside the fray without entering, Yu Shaoxie breathed a sigh of relief: "You really scared me half to death. I thought you were going to charge into the battlefield!"

Xiao Rong: "……"

He touched the Chi Dragon Sword hanging at his waist. He had brought the sword with him but hadn't intended to use it. With his arms and legs, how many enemies could he kill? Instead, it would cause trouble for those tasked with protecting him.

Xiao Rong remained silent, and Yu Shaoxie didn't mind. His eyes were fixed on the battlefield before him, so much so that he forgot about his brother's safety. His face was now filled with obsession and excitement: "Three hundred years..."

Xiao Rong looked at him, listening as his voice grew from faint to deranged.

"Three hundred years of humiliation, finally settled today, hahahaha! How exhilarating, how exhilarating!"

Xiao Rong: "…………"

You do realize this war isn't over yet, right???

Clearly, Yu Shaoxie believed that at this point, it was practically over. Xiao Rong wasn't as confident. He turned his head and continued to watch the front with a grave expression.

Unless Qu Yunmie stood before him, unless he saw everything come to a definitive end with his own eyes, he would never relax.

When they initially set this timing, it was to keep the Xianbei army outside the city. Now they had succeeded, but not entirely, since there were so many Xianbei soldiers, some would inevitably slip through and reach the south gate.

However, the south gate remained closed. The Xianbei weren't fools; opening the gate when the main force hadn't returned would invite the Northern Pacification Army to charge in.

Murong Wei hadn't slept all night. Shortly after returning to the camp, news of the Northern Pacification Army's ambush arrived. Since then, he had been on the battlefield, killing countless soldiers of the Northern Pacification Army.

Following the general, the Xianbei elites had courage, unaware that their general's complexion was worsening. If this continued, the Xianbei army would be dragged to its death here, while the Northern Pacification King's forces would reach the palace.

Murong Wei's heart was tormented. He didn't want to abandon his troops, but... but...

Suddenly, his horse let out a loud neigh. Those around him fighting heard the commotion and turned to see Murong Wei tightening his horse's reins.

Murong Wei shouted to his guards: "The Emperor is in danger; quickly follow me to support him! The rest will follow the orders of General Zhengdong!!"

With that, he immediately turned his horse around. Murong Wei's guards followed him without question, never doubting his command.

Those left behind watched the general's departing figure, feeling as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over them.

No matter how noble his words, they couldn't hide his actions. Emperor Guangjia abandoned the people north of the Huai River and was cursed by all. Murong Wei abandoned these loyal soldiers, breaking his vow never to forsake a fellow Xianbei.

Human nature is only fully revealed in the most critical moments. Regardless of whether Murong Wei truly planned to restore the Xianbei later, to these people, he was an unforgivable traitor.

After some time, news of Murong Wei's escape reached Xiao Rong's ears. But he had fled alone, taking only a few hundred guards. Xiao Rong didn't care where he went, as long as he didn't escape the Northern Pacification Army's range.

Without the general, the Xianbei's morale plummeted further. Seeing this, the Northern Pacification Army pressed forward with renewed vigor. After prolonged fighting, many weapons had dulled.

An hour later, Xiao Rong had been standing in the cold too long, his hands nearly numb. Usually afraid of the cold, he hadn't brought his handguards today, and even if he had, they wouldn't have helped. His hands were always on the reins, and even if others told him to let go, he wouldn't.

He remained vigilant against any unexpected developments. If they occurred, he wouldn't care what his guards thought; he would charge straight into the battlefield and head for Sheng Le.

Qu Yunmie's confidence came from his skills, while Xiao Rong's confidence came from Qu Yunmie in every sense. He would protect him, even when he himself was unaware.

Murphy's Law applies in any era; what one fears tends to happen. As dawn approached, sudden chaos erupted on the battlefield. The visible Xianbei city gates opened, and heavy cavalry charged out from North Gate, led by someone wielding a snow-white spear. Upon appearing, he decapitated two guards near the gate.

This wasn't the end of the night but another climax before dawn.

"The King has arrived!"

"The King has opened the city gates!"

"Charge———"

From a distance, Xiao Rong couldn't see Qu Yunmie's face. In his vision, Qu Yunmie's figure was just as small as everyone else's, like an ant. Xiao Rong watched him plunge into the melee and then lost sight of him.

Yu Shaoxie was looking for his brother when he suddenly heard Xiao Rong laugh softly.

It was very light, almost drowned out by the thick air of blood. Had he not been close, it might have gone unnoticed.

He turned to look at Xiao Rong, who had lowered his eyes. He was no longer laughing, but he looked... so happy.

Xiao Rong gently sniffed and slowly released his grip on the reins, feeling a slight sting.

The pain would intensify once he returned to warmth, but he didn't care.

He raised his head again. Though still dark, he felt as if he could already see the coming dawn. Sensing the gaze beside him, he looked at Yu Shaoxie, who had a complex expression.

Xiao Rong was puzzled and asked, "What's wrong?"

Yu Shaoxie shook his head. "Nothing."

Just a sudden feeling of awe.

How did the King deserve such concern from Rong'er? He and Cheng'er were blood brothers, yet their bond seemed inferior to the one between the King and Rong'er.

Such loyalty between ruler and subject was unprecedented.

At the third hour of Mao, dawn began to break.

The morning glow would appear in another half-hour. There was no sun yet, only a deep blue sky, mesmerizing and profound. A crescent moon hung high, overlooking the unchanging world below.

Countless corpses littered the ground, and the intense fighting gradually ceased. The Xianbei, proud and stubborn, refused to surrender. Of the hundreds of thousands of Xianbei soldiers, only twenty thousand remained, and the reinforcements surrendered readily. The remaining two thousand did not willingly lay down their weapons but were forced to be captured due to their small numbers.

The Snow-Drinking Spear thudded into the ground as Qu Yunmie removed his helmet. He panted slightly, gazing at the sea of corpses before him.

This was his blood debt and his glory.

Those with strength began cleaning the battlefield. Jian Qiao ordered them to quickly send the wounded back. The medics and Agusega had arrived and were stationed a mile away.

Gongsun Yuan and Yuan Baifu were sent to Sheng Le to assist Wang Xinyong. After Qu Yunmie and his forces breached the Xianbei palace, he immediately headed for North Gate. The palace and the captives on the streets were left for Wang Xinyong to guard.

As for Yu Shaocheng, he naturally followed Qu Yunmie, after all, the place Qu Yunmie went to was where the enemy could be slain.

After the number of enemies decreased, Qu Yunmie finally spotted Xiao Rong, but he couldn't spare any attention for him. Now that the battle had ended, Qu Yunmie was drenched in blood, unsure how many people's blood he had bathed in today.

Among the hundreds of thousands of soldiers, he had contributed the most. Even he felt somewhat exhausted at this point. While recovering his energy, he hesitated whether to go find Xiao Rong now.

Before he could come to a decision, he heard footsteps approaching from behind.

His body moved faster than his mind. He swiftly turned around and watched as Xiao Rong slowly walked toward him, stepping over one corpse after another.

Stopping about five steps away, Xiao Rong scrutinized Qu Yunmie's body, covered in blood, unable to discern any specific injuries. Since Xiao Rong himself was unharmed and Qu Yunmie had fought for so long, there likely wouldn't be any major issues.

Xiao Rong: "I thought The King wanted me to enter the city to find you."

After a moment of silence, Qu Yunmie said, "It doesn't matter who finds whom."

Xiao Rong smiled. He noticed the bandage wrapped around Qu Yunmie's hand, now soaked with dried and hardened blood, even crumbling when touched.

Frowning, Xiao Rong reached out to untie it, but Qu Yunmie suddenly recoiled.

Xiao Rong was taken aback. He looked at Qu Yunmie, who opened his mouth and finally said one word: "Dirty."

Xiao Rong paused, then extended his hand again. This time, Qu Yunmie didn't dodge. Xiao Rong held Qu Yunmie's arm armor and slowly unwrapped the bandage, saying, "I don't think it's dirty. I think The King was truly impressive today."

Qu Yunmie raised an eyebrow: "Just today?"

Before Xiao Rong could respond, he finished unwrapping the bandage and tried to stuff it into his sleeve. However, as he did so, his fingertips brushed against Qu Yunmie's palm, which felt like ice. Qu Yunmie instantly reacted, frowning and gripping Xiao Rong's hand tightly, puzzled by its coldness.

Xiao Rong was startled and tried to pull his hand back: "No—too cold!"

Qu Yunmie ignored him, asking, "Did you stand outside all night? Why didn't you wear gloves?"

"Xiao Rong, you really—"

He stopped mid-sentence, pursing his lips. Then he took Xiao Rong's other hand and held it tightly with both of his own. Qu Yunmie added, "You said you don't mind if I'm dirty."

Xiao Rong: "..."

He had intended to refuse, but Qu Yunmie's retort left him speechless. After a moment, he burst into laughter.

His icy hands were gradually warming up, bringing a stinging sensation. Xiao Rong had to exert great effort not to move. By then, the sky had begun to lighten, and the sun finally rose, marking the dawn. Yet neither of them entered the city. Amidst the blood-soaked wasteland outside, they stood facing each other, seeking brief warmth.

On the twelfth day of the ninth month of the sixth year of Shengde, a sunny day, the Xianbei were extinguished.

But history would not stop recording on this day; the world continued to change.

On a section of the wild Great Wall outside Pingcheng, Han Qing, or rather Han Liangru, stood there. Last night, he smelled the blood in the air but saw no flames or smoke rising from Sheng Le City as expected.

Entering the city, killing, setting fires, and looting—this was the standard procedure for various forces today. The Northern Pacification Army was no different in the past; they just didn't plunder their own people in Central China. When it came to the barbarians, they were quicker than anyone else.

But now, things had changed. The Northern Pacification Army no longer vented their anger and thus no longer ravaged the wealth of civilians like locusts.

It seemed the Northern Pacification King intended to govern Sheng Le. If this was the case for Sheng Le, other cities would likely receive similar treatment.

Han Qing pursed his lips, then turned and walked down the broken section of the wall.

Author's note: