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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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Jia Xu nodded, pointing a finger at the young prodigy. "Exactly. We all deeply know our Emperor's visionary habits. Look at our history. After the pacification of the central plains, he did not just rest, he completely revolutionized the agrarian systems and introduced the steam forges. After the southern campaigns, he entirely restructured the military hierarchy and the logistical wagonways."
Jia Xu walked slowly around the table, his shadow dancing against the grand hall's walls.
"Your Majesty almost always makes earth shattering innovations, sweeping social reforms, and massive systemic changes whenever he returns back from a major military campaign," Jia Xu explained, his voice thick with a mixture of immense respect and administrative trepidation. "He uses the momentum of absolute victory to smash through political resistance and reshape the very foundation of society."
The Chancellor stopped near the heavy wooden doors of the hall, looking back at the four men who held the empire together.
"And this historic, unprecedented conquest of the steppes would undoubtedly be no different," Jia Xu warned them, a cold, prophetic certainty in his eyes. "He is bringing three hundred thousand barbarians into our borders. He will not leave them as foreigners. He will seek to digest them. And to digest a meal of that size, the entire anatomy of the Hengyuan Dynasty will have to change. He will demand new ministries, new laws of integration, perhaps even a fundamental restructuring of what it means to be a citizen of this empire."
Jia Xu stepped back to the table, his hands resting on his hips. "So, plan the banquets. Order the wine. Write the triumphant songs. But keep your inkstones wet and your minds razor sharp. Because when Your Majesty reached and dismounts his horse in Xiapi, the celebrations will end, and he will demand that we rebuild the world by dawn. Dismissed."
The four ministers bowed deeply, their minds reeling with the immense, terrifying, and exhilarating responsibility that had just been laid upon their shoulders. They filed out of the Chancellor's estate, stepping into the bustling, euphoric streets of the capital.
The common people of Xiapi were already beginning to hang red lanterns and weave garlands of flowers, singing songs of the Emperor's invincibility, blissfully unaware of the colossal, systemic earthquake that was currently marching toward them from the north.
The war of iron and blood had finally been won, and the master administrators of the Hengyuan Dynasty returned to their respective ministries to prepare for the Emperor's arrival.
Meanwhile, back on Lie Fan's side of the continent, hundreds of miles away from the feverish, highly calculated political preparations taking place in the capital, the Emperor was still steadily leading the endless, winding procession of the Imperial Army. Their objective was to finally return back to Xiapi, but the sheer, mind boggling scale of their movement made it less of a simple march and more of a geographical migration.
The vast, continent spanning column of humanity stretched so far that the vanguard could not even see the rear guard when looking back from the highest mountain passes.
The rhythmic, synchronized thud of over a million iron shod boots and heavy hooves striking the packed dirt roads created a low, constant rumble that echoed through the valleys. The air was thick with the scent of leather, horse sweat, and the fine dust kicked up by the endless lines of steam forged supply carriages.
As his monstrous black warhorse, Pangu, trotted along the widened dirt roads that cut through the rugged northern territories, Lie Fan sat perfectly straight in his saddle.
Despite the physical exhaustion that naturally accompanied the long time of brutal warfare and freezing temperatures, his posture was immaculate, radiating an aura of unbreakable authority. Yet, his mind was not currently dwelling on the glory of his conquests. He was intently listening to the final, comprehensive post war logistics reports from Zhang Liao.
Zhang Liao rode slightly behind and to the left of the Emperor, his scarred, battle hardened face reflecting the grim, pragmatic reality of a commander who had just overseen one of the most violent campaigns in human history.
The general held a thick bundle of carefully bound bamboo slips and silk scrolls, reading off the meticulous tallies compiled by the quartermasters and the imperial scribes.
Zhang Liao respectfully informed him that after a very careful, highly detailed, and agonizingly thorough process of looking over the battlefield tallies, cross referencing the unit registries with the recovered dog tags of the fallen, the final casualties suffered by the Hengyuan Dynasty during this massive northern campaign had finally been confirmed.
The toll, despite their overwhelming technological superiority and the brilliance of their tactics, was incredibly heavy. War against men fighting for their absolute survival in a freezing, hostile environment always exacted a brutal price.
"Your Imperial Majesty," Zhang Liao began, his voice steady but carrying the solemn, heavy weight of a man reporting the deaths of his brothers in arms. "Around eighty thousand of our brave soldiers have tragically died in battle. They fell to the elements, to the desperate ambushes in the deep snow, and in the final, brutal melee against the unified horde."
Eighty thousand men. It was a staggering, sobering number. Eighty thousand families across the central plains would receive a folded crimson flag and a pension of silver instead of a returning son, husband, or father.
They were men who had frozen in the trenches, men who had been caught in the crossfire of nomadic horse archers, and men who had willingly thrown their bodies against the desperate barbarian barricades so that the empire might live in eternal peace.
Furthermore, the ledger of suffering did not end with the dead. Zhang Liao solemnly turned to the next scroll, detailing the grim aftermath of the carnage.
"In addition to the fallen, one hundred thousand of our soldiers have sustained heavy, grievous wounds," Zhang Liao noted, his eyes scanning the detailed medical reports submitted by the frontline physicians.
These were the men who had suffered shattered limbs from war hammers, deep, festering lacerations from curved sabers, and horrific burns from the chaotic backfires of the artillery lines.
However, Zhang Liao noted a beacon of hope amidst the grim statistics. He reported that after a long period of mandatory recuperation in the specialized, heavily guarded field hospitals, and possibly some advanced surgeries by the highly trained imperial medics, they will survive.
Lie Fan had revolutionized the military medical corps years prior, introducing strict sterilization protocols, steam boiled bandages, and highly refined herbal anesthetics that drastically reduced the rate of fatal infections.
"The doctors and nurses assure me that the mortality rate among the heavily wounded is exceptionally low, thanks to your reforms," Zhang Liao explained, a note of genuine awe entering his voice. "They will live to see their families again. Though, unfortunately, not many of them will ever be physically able to return to active battle. They have given their limbs and their mobility to the empire."
Lastly, rounding out the massive casualty report, Zhang Liao stated that there are two hundred thousand soldiers who have suffered light wounds. These were the men with superficial arrow grazes, minor fractures, and flesh wounds that had already been stitched and bound.
"These men will fortunately have a full, uncomplicated recovery, Your Majesty," Zhang Liao concluded, closing the scrolls. "They are tough, resilient veterans. They will be completely ready to join the army ranks back in a matter of mere weeks."
Hearing all of that sobering, mathematically precise information, Lie Fan slowly nodded his head. He did not look away, nor did he flinch from the bloody cost of his ambition. He was acknowledging the heavy, terrible price of unifying the borders and permanently breaking the endless cycle of nomadic raids. Peace was not a natural state of the world; it was a monument built upon a foundation of shattered bone and spilled blood.
He firmly commanded Zhang Liao to relay his absolute gratitude to the healers. "Tell the medical corps that they have the unlimited backing of the imperial treasury," Lie Fan said, his voice carrying a soft but unyielding resolve. "Have the dedicated medical unit boldly continue their great, life saving work. Spare absolutely no expense on medicinal herbs, clean water, or warmth. Every man who bled for my vision will be treated with the highest honor, and those who cannot hold a spear again will be granted fertile land and a lifelong pension. They will not be forgotten."
Then, shifting his deeply analytical thoughts from his own bleeding soldiers to the immense burden of their conquests, he asked about the captives.
"And what about the three hundred thousand nomadic people?" Lie Fan inquired, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as he considered the massive logistical anchor dragging behind his army. "What is their current condition? I am especially checking on the young children. They are the true harvest of this war, Zhang Liao. If they die in the snow, we have conquered nothing but ghosts."
Zhang Liao bowed his head in his saddle, recognizing the sheer, terrifying brilliance of the Emperor's long term assimilation strategy. He honestly replied that managing the captives was proving to be one of the greatest logistical challenges in military history.
"They are having a major struggle to keep up with the army's relentless marching pace, Your Majesty," Zhang Liao reported truthfully. "They are accustomed to moving with their herds at their own pace, not marching in strict columns for twelve hours a day. The elderly are exhausted, and the women are carrying the infants until their feet bleed."
However, Zhang Liao quickly provided the vital reassurance Lie Fan was looking for. "But despite the exhaustion, all of them are healthy, more or less. Most importantly, with the strict sanitation and quarantine protocols implemented by our quartermasters, there are no plagues breaking out. We are forcing them to boil their drinking water and burning the waste pits daily. The children you specifically ordered us to protect are being kept in the warmest, fur lined supply wagons in the center of the formation. They are surviving."
Lie Fan nodded his head in profound satisfaction at this. The survival of the nomadic children was the absolute cornerstone of his plan to permanently rewrite the demographics of the northern hemisphere. By keeping them alive and marching them into the heart of Han civilization, he was ensuring that the next generation of the steppes would grow up speaking his language, obeying his laws, and worshipping the Dragon Throne.
With the logistics confirmed and the grand strategy securely in place, he turned his absolute focus back on leading the entire massive procession homeward.
The arduous, back breaking journey continued for weeks on end. It was a test of sheer human endurance, pushing the limits of the soldiers, the captives, and the supply chains.
But the Hengyuan Dynasty was a machine of absolute efficiency. As they marched further south, the environment began to drastically change. The biting, lethal blizzards of the northern tundra slowly gave way to the cold but manageable rains of the borderlands.
The frozen, rock hard permafrost softened into dark, fertile soil. The barren, endless gray horizons were replaced by rolling green hills, dense bamboo forests, and the sprawling, meticulously irrigated farmlands of the central plains.
They finally reached back to the majestic, sprawling capital of Xiapi after two grueling, exhausting months had passed by.
The arrival was not a sudden event, it was a slow, overwhelming crescendo of civilization. For days before they even saw the city walls, the roads were lined with millions of cheering citizens. But when the vanguard finally crested the last major ridge, the true, awe inspiring scale of the imperial capital revealed itself in the distance.
When Lie Fan proudly entered into the city through the towering, massively fortified outer city walls, the sight was nothing short of breathtaking.
Xiapi had been transformed under his rule from a prosperous regional hub into the undisputed, glorious center of the world. The outer walls were towering monoliths of dark, polished stone, thick enough to drive three chariots abreast along the battlements.
Thousands of deep crimson and gold banners fluttered violently from the watchtowers, creating a vibrant, rippling sea of imperial colors against the bright spring sky. The massive iron reinforced wooden gates had been thrown wide open, and the ground had been literally carpeted with fresh flower petals and aromatic herbs to welcome the conquerors.
Lie Fan of course rode at the absolute front of the endless column, the undisputed master of all he surveyed. Mounted on Pangu, his dark bespoke armor had been polished to a mirror shine, reflecting the bright sunlight. He did not wear a crown of jewels, but the aura of absolute, terrifying power that radiated from him was far more potent than any physical ornament.
Riding beautifully and fiercely right alongside him was his beloved wife and concubine, Lu Lingqi. She was a vision of lethal elegance, clad in her bespoke, dark silver armor that perfectly complemented her husband's attire.
Her crimson silk cape flowed behind her, and her masterfully forged halberd rested easily in her grip. She was not a delicate concubine hiding in a palanquin, she was a warrior queen who had waded through the blood of the barbarians, earning the absolute, fanatical devotion of the soldiers who marched behind her.
Followed closely behind the royal couple rode the four brilliant pillars of the empire, the men whose unmatched intellects had orchestrated the logistics of this world altering conquest. Sima Yi, Xun You, Xu Shu, and Lu Xun rode in a disciplined line.
They wore the immaculate, heavy robes of high state officials, their faces a mixture of profound exhaustion and the exhilarating, intoxicating thrill of having successfully manipulated the fate of millions. They were the architects of the new world, and the citizens cheered them as heroes of the state.
Right behind the advisors rode the peerless, legendary generals who had executed the Emperor's violent will upon the steppes. Zhao Yun, Ma Chao, and Zhang Liao. This legendary cadre of commanders was heavily flanked by the terrifying, silent ranks of the Yellow Ghost Bodyguards. Even amidst the deafening celebrations, these elite Bodyguards maintained their chilling, emotionless discipline. Their dark yellow iron masks and heavy weapons served as a stark, visual reminder that the Emperor's power was absolute, both in the light of day and in the darkest shadows of the night.
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Name: Lie Fan
Title: Founding Emperor Of Hengyuan Dynasty
Age: 36 (203 AD)
Level: 16
Next Level: 462,000
Renown: 2325
Cultivation: Yin Yang Separation (level 11)
SP: 1,121,700
ATTRIBUTE POINTS
STR: 1,010 (+20)
VIT: 659 (+20)
AGI: 653 (+10)
INT: 691
CHR: 98
WIS: 569
WILL: 436
ATR Points: 0