Iron Dynasty Chapter 1022

“Is that him, Dolgor?”

Under the dim glow of early dawn, Gubat gestured rather feebly toward Dolgor’s lifeless form.

Following a grueling night of intense combat, their forces had fully secured the tribal encampment. The bulk of the Golden Tent riders lay slain on the field, as the survivors among them elected to yield. Even the barbarians readying themselves to depart alongside the Golden Tent opted to give in completely.

Tales of the three great tribes wiped out for their defiance had already circulated across the vast steppes. In the eyes of these people, the Great Yu Empire was no longer a meek prey to be trifled with, but a ferocious predator on the prowl.

Certain barbarians went so far as to invoke Niu Ben’s name to frighten unruly youngsters. Driven by this terror, the barbarians submitted without resistance. After all, servitude paled in comparison to facing death.

“That’s him for sure; I’d know him even turned to ashes,” Gubat affirmed confidently. Once the clash concluded, the search for Dolgor commenced. Their hunt led them to discover his body fallen along the western barricade.

“To meet his end so simply feels almost regrettable,” Qi Guangyi remarked, a touch of sorrow in his voice. He had intended to present Dolgor as a trophy to earn merits, given this was such a monumental feat.

Yet despite that, with Dolgor gone, the century-old menace haunting the Empire’s northern frontiers was at last eradicated entirely.

Gazing upon Dolgor’s remains, Gubat felt a profound wave of helplessness wash over him. He was immensely relieved now for choosing allegiance to the Great Yu Empire. A single misstep, and he might have ended up among the fallen beside Dolgor.

Now, he and his kin could look forward to a transformed destiny.

Amid these uneasy thoughts, Qi Guangyi issued a sudden command, “Gubat, we’ve got far too many prisoners. Get your warriors to help us round them up and march them toward Raozhou. Guandong desperately needs hands for building railways and telegraph lines, plus the thermal power stations require workers. We can’t let all this manpower go to waste.”

Gubat offered a wary grin. He wouldn’t dream of refusing, since his very future hung in the balance.

“Understood, General Qi Guangyi. We’ll handle it.” Saying so, he directed his troops to push the prisoners eastward.

Meanwhile, Feng Dongjin paced restlessly, eager for updates from Qi Guangyi. Though this assault caught the foe off guard, the sheer volume of barbarians posed considerable dangers.

Come afternoon, however, his concerns melted away. Through his field glasses, he spotted a vast column of prisoners trailing the green-clad cavalry, signaling a truly bountiful success this round.

Upon Qi Guangyi’s arrival back at camp, Feng Dongjin approached promptly and noted, “Commander, it looks like you’ve reaped quite the reward this expedition.”

His eyes flicked toward the throng of captives as he mentioned it.

Qi Guangyi grinned. “They didn’t let me down at last. Nearly all the Golden Tent barbarians have laid down arms. Over 600,000 souls will ease the labor crunch in Guandong.”

Feng Dongjin chuckled. “My fretting was pointless then. These barbarians have at last grasped the meaning of fear.”

Qi Guangyi joined in the laughter at those words. That fear was precisely their aim, or how else to cow the faint-hearted?

After a quick exchange, Feng Dongjin recalled a detail. “I’ve set up a banquet. With this triumph in hand, shall we share a toast?”

“Excellent! Just what I needed.” Dolgor was slain, the barbarian peril utterly crushed. At last, he could unwind.

Slipping from his mount, Qi Guangyi headed to the fire pit. Noticing Gubat’s awkward demeanor, he added, “Banner Head Gubat, join us for a round. Your role in this victory was pivotal. Back in Raozhou, I’ll make sure to report your valor to His Majesty.”

“General Qi—or Commander Qi—my deepest gratitude!” Gubat replied, clasping his hands tightly, his spirit alight with anticipation. This was the very opportunity he’d hoped for.

Emboldened by Qi Guangyi’s summons, Gubat strode to the flames alongside them. The troops dispersed to their own fires for the meal.

After toasting and sipping, Gubat declared, “I owe you both for this faith. As you head back in glory, might I request you deliver this pledge of submission to His Majesty?”

Qi Guangyi accepted the document. Evidently, Gubat had long plotted this bid for imperial favor. “No issue at all. This conquest seals the northern stability. So long as Banner Head Gubat aids the Empire, tending herds, His Majesty will surely approve.”

“Of course. Whatever His Majesty requires, Gubat stands ready to give his all. Herding is our forte; we’ll supply ample cattle and sheep to the throne,” Gubat vowed.

Feng Dongjin and Qi Guangyi shared a knowing glance, amusement flickering in their expressions. Though barbarians like Gubat weren’t to their taste, he remained one the Emperor had spared on purpose.

Through their cordial talk with Gubat, they came to appreciate the Emperor’s wisdom. Slaying him might feel gratifying, yet what gain would it yield for the Empire’s common folk?

Far better to spare him, letting him bolster the realm much like the Cossacks aided Tsarist Russia—breeding stock and mounting warriors for imperial needs.

Thus, the Empire could hold sway over the endless plains with minimal expense, free from threats of fresh nomadic incursions.

As they drank and conversed, once the wine had flowed thrice, the trio parted. After the exhaustive night’s strife, Qi Guangyi and Gubat both craved slumber.

Feng Dongjin, though, faced a surge in duties. Overseeing such a multitude of prisoners proved no simple task.

After a day’s respite, Feng Dongjin and Qi Guangyi rose with the sun next morn, rallied their ranks anew, and set off for Raozhou, prisoners in tow.

With the Golden Tent destroyed, lingering on the steppes served no purpose. Each additional day strained their supply lines further. Hence, they hastened homeward while dispatching word of their triumph to Qingzhou.

…

Qingzhou.

Half a month’s wait ended when a dispatch from the grasslands set Qingzhou City ablaze with fervor.

For ages, barbarians had loomed as a persistent terror in the nation’s psyche, yet after over a decade of warfare, the Empire had at last subdued them beneath its heel. Henceforth, no one need dread the thunder of barbarian chargers shattering their rest.

“The Northwest Army not only routed the Cossack horsemen in this clash but reaped immense gains too. Factoring in the seized riders, this fight netted 640,000 captives overall. Add the assorted tribes subdued lately, and we’ve bagged around a million barbarians. That’s no trivial haul.” Pang Yukun voiced equal parts joy and concern.

Xiao Ming grasped Pang Yukun’s implication. He fretted that these hordes might multiply, swelling into another dominant force.

“Prime Minister Pang, such fears are unfounded. Their count is substantial, but dispersal will dissolve them. With this influx of prisoners, we’ll ship 300,000 to Siberia and 300,000 more to Australia. Crucially, no captive women may wed their own kind—only Empire men are permitted. Likewise, captive men cannot take Empire brides.”

Fei Ji eyed Xiao Ming upon hearing this. He couldn’t deny the scheme’s ruthlessness; it was nothing short of ethnic erasure.