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Finest Servant Chapter 527
🕑 Added 2023-10-04 09:49:32 +0000 UTCChapter 527 Crossing into the Prairie
Everyone was on high alert, their eyes fixated on Gao Qiu as he swiftly slid across the rope. The twang of the rope resonated through the air. In a moment, Gao Qiu had reached the opposite bank and leaped onto the cliff, excitedly waving at everyone.
Lin Wanrong waved his hand and said in a deep voice, "Brother Hu, give the order. Leave the warhorses here. Everyone should carry only rations and weapons. We cross the gorge immediately."
The order was conveyed, and the soldiers felt a mix of excitement and somber resolve. They silently patted their loyal warhorses, their faces showing their reluctance to part.
Hu Bugui sighed and stroked his horse's mane a few times. With a heavy heart, he slapped the horse's hindquarters. The horse neighed and bolted into the depths of the forest, followed by countless others. They formed a cloud of black and white that slowly vanished into the wilderness.
Lin Wanrong tied the rope securely and tested its strength, nodding slightly in approval.
"Go!" he shouted. Releasing his grip, the friction of the rope hummed in his ears as he led the way. Like a bird soaring through the sky, he swiftly glided to the opposite side. Wisps of mist were under his feet, and the sound of the wind whispered past his ears. As Lin Wanrong looked back, the lush mountains and towering cliffs of the Helan Mountain peaks receded into the distance, fading like a wisp of elusive wind.
His slide was swift, and in the blink of an eye, he reached the peak on the opposite side. Gao Qiu pulled him up, gave him a thumbs-up, and securely fastened three ropes. With a light whistle, three figures glided over, as light as swallows in the dark night.
By the time all the men had crossed, the sky had already brightened. The faint chirping of birds filled the air, and droplets of dew felt icy cold on their faces.
"Cut the ropes!" Lin Wanrong commanded. Three soldiers stepped forward, and with swift motions, severed the ropes that had helped them cross the gorge. The ropes fell, disappearing into the mist below, and a feeling of awe-inspiring, tragic determination spread among the men.
After moving a few dozen miles beyond the peak, the slope in front of them became abruptly steep, as if cut by a steel blade. The winding path was full of jagged rocks, barely a foot wide. Behind them was an endless cliff. The eight thousand men clung to the cliff like wall-climbing geckos, moving cautiously, step by step. Sweat turned into droplets that plummeted down the cliff. From the base of the mountain, they looked like sacred totems depicted in the Helan mountain rock paintings, awe-inspiring to behold.
When they descended from the cliff, everyone felt as if they had survived a life-threatening ordeal. Their armor was soaked, their hands and feet numb, as if they no longer belonged to them. Thousands lay on the cold ground of the gorge, panting heavily. Even Hu Bugui, a veteran who had fought the Turkic people for over twenty years, couldn't help but marvel at the sight.
This short stretch of the journey had taken them from dawn to dusk. A tally revealed that hundreds more brothers had fallen into the abyss, their bodies lost forever. The battle of surprise had not even started, and already over two hundred men were lost on the road. Lin Wanrong clenched his teeth tightly, remaining silent.
After crossing two towering mountain ranges, the physical limits of every soldier had been pushed to the brink. Two days of relentless marching without rest had worn down even the most hardened among them. Hearing a faint rustle of wind from the canyon ahead, Lin Wanrong finally gestured for his men to set up camp and rest.
The formation had long loosened; men lay on the ground, too drained to move. Four days of forced marches had left the soldiers' faces unshaven and gaunt, their armor battered. They looked like defeated troops freshly withdrawn from the front lines.
"I see it, I see it!" A voice bellowed as its owner, red-faced and panting, sprinted toward them after taking a gulp of water.
Lin Wanrong grinned, "Ah, Brother Gao, weren't you with Li Wuling scouting ahead? What did you see?"
Catching his breath, Gao Qiu tried to steady himself, "Brother Lin, I've seen it—a vast grassland stretching as far as the eye can see!"
Leaping to his feet, Lin Wanrong grabbed Gao Qiu's hand, "What did you say, Brother Gao? Say it again!"
Tears began to well up in Gao Qiu's eyes as he stuttered, "Brother Lin, we've made it! A green grassland teeming with life—the Turkic people's grassland is right before us!"
‘The Turkic people's grassland? Right in front of us?’ Lin Wanrong's throat was dry as tinder; he tried to speak, but his voice cracked. Gao Qiu tugged at him, dashing toward the opposite hillside.
Weighed down as if by lead, each step felt like a marathon. When they finally reached the hilltop and swept their eyes over the vista, Lin Wanrong felt a sudden wetness in his eyes.
In the dim twilight, the sprawling grassland appeared infinitely expansive. Green grass, blue sky—even the air carried a light scent of fresh grass. Below the hill lay a serene, emerald lake shimmering in the setting sun, its surface gleaming gold. Countless cattle and sheep roamed leisurely by the lake, and from a distance, the drumbeats sounded like rolling thunder. Amidst it all, thousands of Turkic steeds galloped freely, their neighs echoing through the air. Their manes, both black and white, fluttered in the fading sunlight like willows in March. On the distant lakeside, more than twenty white tents glimmered like tiny, radiant flowers blossoming on the green canvas.
‘The grassland! The Turkic people's grassland! We've really arrived!’ Lin Wanrong clenched his fists, yearning to howl at the sky, to vent the pent-up frustrations that had long clogged his heart. It felt like eating ice cream on a hot June day—utterly exhilarating.
Unbeknownst to him, a crowd of brothers had already gathered beside him. Every eye widened, every mouth agape, as they stared at the boundless grassland before them, their expressions a mix of stupefaction and awe.
For a hundred years, the Turkic cavalry had repeatedly trampled the border cities and fortresses of the Great Hua, wreaking havoc on their fertile lands, killing, looting, and committing unspeakable atrocities. Countless brothers and sisters had been abused and brutally killed under their iron hooves; their blood and bones were buried under the shifting sands of the great desert, marking centuries of shame for the Great Hua.
Countless frontier soldiers had dreamt of galloping across the Turkic grasslands, of washing away the humiliation and sufferings endured by their nation for hundreds of years with their blood-stained blades.
The dream of a hundred years was finally realized today by a group of soldiers who descended from the heavens. Their faces were emaciated, their clothes tattered, and their military bearing unspeakable in its disarray. Yet, at this very moment, the shining blades in their hands represented the unyielding spirit of Great Hua! What an exhilarating moment it was!
Tears of mixed sorrow and joy fell upon the weather-beaten faces of the soldiers, many of whom broke into silent sobs. Their mournful yet proud cries echoed across the vast plains like the soft whimpers of silkworms on a spring night.
"General, please allow me to die here," Hu Bugui said, his voice choked with emotion as he unsheathed his long blade with a whoosh. He swung it fiercely towards the sky, the swift glint of the blade slashing through the grassland and pointing at the heavens.
Lin Wanrong patted him on the shoulder, offering a silent smile. His gaze swept across the many faces before him—faces both haggard and excited. Countless hopeful and eager eyes were trained on him, filled with love, respect, and a willingness to entrust their lives to him. Lin Wanrong's voice caught in his throat for a moment. Then, with a sweeping motion of his arm, he bellowed, his voice piercing through stone and soaring into the sky: "Warriors, the history of our great nation is rewritten at this very moment! You—my dearest brothers—will be the first to break through these Turkic grasslands! Your figures will be etched in the annals of our history as monuments to be remembered for all eternity! Where are your blades?!"
"Roar!" came the reply as blades were drawn in unison, their gleaming surfaces reflecting countless flushed faces. The frigid light of ten thousand blades seemed to cleave the grasslands in two.
After four days of life-and-death travel, and with the lives of more than two hundred soldiers as sacrificed, it was clear that nothing had been in vain. The moment they saw the grasslands, everyone understood: the vast Helan Mountains had been left behind, and an even more brutal journey lay ahead.
"Brother Hu, what kind of people do you think are camped across that lake?" Lying on the slope and idly chewing on a piece of grass, Lin Wanrong casually pointed to the distant tents and asked.
After days of relentless travel and finally seeing the grasslands, both fatigue and excitement surged through the troops. They had long since set up camp to rest. Lin Wanrong was discussing the current situation with Hu Bugui and a few others.
If Hu Bugui's estimates were correct, they were only about seventy or eighty miles away from Bayanhot. That meant the Turkic people could appear in front of them at any time. Given the difficulties they had faced crossing the Helan Mountains, it made sense that the Turks would establish supply stations in Bayanhot. The sudden appearance of Lin Wanrong and his eight thousand soldiers would surely bring an unparalleled psychological shock to the Turks.
As soon as he stepped onto the grasslands, Lin Wanrong reverted to his old playful manner, more laughter evident in his speech, utterly at ease.
"At present, it's hard to say," Hu Bugui shook his head, his eyes fixed intently on the distant tents. Faint light emanated from within, scattered like lonely stars on the grassland. "But one thing's for sure—they don't number many, a few hundred at most, not exceeding a thousand."
"I can see that much myself," Lin Wanrong chuckled, then continued, "Are they herdsmen?"
"Absolutely not herdsmen," Hu Bugui said with utter certainty.
Lin Wanrong gave him a puzzled look. Hu Bugui explained with a smile, "Although the Turks are nomadic, they would never send hundreds of people to graze at once. The number of people on the opposite side is just too many."
Lin Wanrong nodded in agreement. Even if the Turks were foolishly rich, they wouldn't dispatch such a large group just to herd sheep. "Secondly," Hu Bugui continued, pointing at the distant tents, "You can tell from the way they've set up camp that these are not herdsmen. Look— their tents are meticulously arranged in a large circle, the outermost tents densely packed. As you move towards the center, the tents become fewer, signifying higher status. Ordinary Turkic herdsmen travel as entire families, and their camps are much more loosely arranged. They wouldn't be this orderly."
Lin Wanrong nodded. Bringing Hu Bugui along had indeed proven to be a wise decision. His years of experience fighting against the Turkic tribes had already come in handy. "So, if they're not herdsmen, they must be Turkic cavalry," Lin Wanrong surmised.
"Exactly," Hu Bugui chuckled. "Otherwise, what would they be doing with so many warhorses?"
The mention of warhorses caught Lin Wanrong's attention. They had left all their horses on the other side of the mountain pass, and here in the sprawling plains, to be without horses was to handicap oneself. He looked towards the opposite lakeshore, where thousands of horses rested quietly. From afar, they looked like a dense mass of dark clouds, stirring an unquenchable desire within him.
"Aha," Lin Wanrong exclaimed, clapping his hands, "I get it now. These Turks are transporting warhorses to Bayanhot. They've halted here because it's too late to travel, and they will proceed to Bayanhot tomorrow morning."
Considering Bayanhot's strategic location, Lin Wanrong's guess made perfect sense, and Hu Bugui nodded in agreement. Lin Wanrong felt his heart race with excitement at the thought that Bayanhot was so close. "Brother Hu, are these Turkic horses tamed? Can we ride them?"
Hu Bugui understood his concern, nodding as he said, "These horses have just come from the nomadic pastures. They haven't yet been trained to recognize their masters. That happens only once they reach the hands of the Turkic cavalry. The ones we had to kill last time in Wuyuan were such trained Turkic horses."
"So, you're saying that, at this stage, these horses don't distinguish between us and the Turks? They'd allow anyone to ride them?" Lin Wanrong's eyes sparkled.
Hu Bugui grinned and nodded, "Exactly. At this point, these horses don't differentiate between the Turks and us. If we train them well, they might very well become loyal to our own people."
Gao Qiu stood by, listening to the conversation between the two. Upon hearing their words, he burst into laughter. "Well, well! I thought these Turkic horses were so exceptional that they'd never betray their homeland. Turns out, they're no different from our Great Hua horses. Treacherous beasts, the lot of them!"
The group broke into laughter, dispersing the gloom that had hung over them for the past few days. Lin Wanrong stared intently at the lake before him, lost in thought for a long moment before suddenly asking, "Brother Hu, in your experience, how long will it take to deal with those Turks across the lake? I want every single one of them taken care of."
Hu Bugui grinned confidently, "The Turkic people are only formidable when they gather in large numbers. This is just a few hundred men; they're isolated. As long as we keep them confined to their camp and prevent them from mounting their horses, they'll be easy to deal with. I'd say no more than an hour."
Having spent some time with Lin Wanrong, Gao Qiu had gotten to know him well. Overjoyed, he exclaimed, "Brother Lin, are we finally going to slaughter those rascals? Take their women and steal their horses? This is the day I've been waiting for, becoming a nomad in the nomad's own lair! No one would believe it!"
Lin Wanrong chuckled and patted him on the shoulder, "Brother Gao, I'm afraid you're going to be disappointed this time. Not only will I not steal their horses, but I'm actually going to give them horses."
"Give them horses?" Gao Qiu was stunned, unable to grasp Lin Wanrong's intentions.
Hu Bugui, savvy and experienced, immediately understood the essence of the plan. "Give them horses? Brilliant! They'll never see it coming."
Seeing that Gao Qiu was still puzzled, Hu Bugui leaned in and whispered a few words in his ear. Realization dawned on Gao Qiu as he raised his thumb, "Brother Lin, you're a tactical genius, truly masterful in the art of war. This will surely give the Turkic people something to chew on."
Lin Wanrong grinned but said nothing. However, Hu Bugui furrowed his brows as if recalling something. "General Lin, your plan is certainly excellent, but we have to deal with these Turkic men first, without letting a single one escape. That's going to require some thought."
Lin Wanrong's concern was exactly this. He nodded and sighed, "Brother Hu is correct. If even one of these Turks escapes, our efforts will have been in vain. The greatest challenge is how to annihilate them in the shortest possible time."
The two men frowned in deep thought. Gao Qiu, glancing across the lake at the enemy camp, suddenly asked, "Old Hu, can these Turkic people swim?"
Caught off guard by the abrupt question, Hu Bugui paused before chuckling, "The nomads don't bathe all year round; they're terrified of water. Brother Gao, do you have some clever idea?"
"A clever idea? Not really," Gao Qiu chuckled, pulling out a large package from his robe and fondling it with a lascivious smile. "I just remembered a tactic Brother Lin used before—one that was absolutely ingenious and awe-inspiring."
