Chapter 18: The Tragedy of the Kingdom of Nan Zhao
In the grand royal palace of the Kingdom of Nan Zhao, a somber page of history was being turned.
The undried bloodstains in the great hall seemed to silently narrate the pain and humiliation endured by the royal city of Nan Zhao.
Yesterday, the powerful and savage Tibetan Empire's Second Prince, Mudiruzan, breached the strongest fortress of the Kingdom of Nan Zhao. Now, the heart-wrenching cries and screams, like ghosts of the night, echoed in the streets of this once resplendent city. The nauseating stench of blood pervaded the markets, which once were fragrant with fruits.
"Ha ha ha ha."
In the palace, the throne, once a symbol of dignity and majesty, was now occupied by a half-naked barbarian prince. His body rhythmically heaved with his wild laughter, which sounded like an untamed beast roaring unrestrained in the tranquil night sky, filled with madness and ferocity.
Beneath him lay a young girl, naked and helpless, revered as the Saintess of the Kingdom of Nan Zhao. Despite her tone revealing an unyielding will, she couldn't hide the slight tremble caused by deep humiliation. "You despicable scum, my soul will not submit to you," she voiced, maintaining a hint of resolve even in extreme pain and fear.
"Ha ha ha!" The half-naked barbarian prince, hearing her strong defiance, laughed even more arrogantly and wildly. "Oh? Your stubbornness only excites me more, ha ha ha!"
"Shameless villain! Despicable coward! Ahhh!" The Saintess's agonized screams echoed in the empty and sorrow-filled palace. This place was steeped in tragedy, or more precisely, littered with lifeless bodies. Beside the throne lay an old man wearing a golden crown symbolizing nobility; he was the once great king of Nan Zhao. At the foot of the throne lay the kingdom's most loyal guards, brave and fearless in battle, but now just silent corpses, strewn carelessly around the palace.
The only living beings, apart from the rampant invader and the suffering Saintess, were the mysterious man standing beside the throne. Cloaked in black, his entire form was concealed, his face masked in silver, hiding all emotion, with only his eyes revealing a cold and merciless light through two hollows. He seemed oblivious to the debauchery and evil unfolding on the throne, entirely absorbed in his own world.
On the Saintess's back, cruelly spread red plum blossoms, a result of the Tibetan invader's brutality. The culprit's body rhythmically undulated over her, his right hand wielding a whip that continuously lashed her back, ironically made from the tendons of the maiden's own father.
"Report! His Highness Prince Mudiruzan, General Duoji has returned!" A Tibetan messenger hurried into the royal hall's main entrance, kneeling amidst the scattered corpses, his right fist pressed to his chest, head bowed in report.
"Duoji?... Ha ha ha, right, he must have captured the town of Sule in Anxi by now, hasn't he? My brother Muni has already occupied the Protectorate of Beiting of the Tang Dynasty. I cannot let my brother take all the glory of the last bastion of the Tang, Anxi." Mudiruzan didn't stop his actions below him, asking with keen interest.
The Tibetan messenger beneath the throne, nervous upon hearing Mudiruzan's query, dared not conceal the truth, stuttering in response, "No... General Duoji, only a dozen of them returned..."
"What? What did you say?" Mudiruzan asked incredulously, "Duoji, this incompetent fool! He led 1,000 elite Tibetan cavalry and couldn't take a small city with less than a hundred people? Impossible! How could this be?!"
The man in the silver mask standing beside the throne also showed a flicker of surprise in his eyes. He was well aware of the situation in Sule Town; the city was in ruins, the defending army exhausted, and including the townspeople, there were barely over a hundred people. A thousand cavalrymen should have been more than enough to easily capture such a city.
The eyes beneath the silver mask shifted subtly, a hint of doubt creeping into his mind: Could it be that Guo Xin, the Protector-General of Anxi, had intervened? But then he shook his head, chiding himself. Although Guo Xin was known for his bravery and prowess in battle, he was also cautious and conservative, unlikely to anticipate such a surprise attack. There must be more to this than meets the eye.
"Damn it! Incompetent fools! Duoji is useless!" Mudiruzan on the throne was thunderous with rage, swearing furiously. The Tibetan messenger kneeling below broke into a cold sweat, knowing well that a storm of bloodshed was likely to follow such fury. "Summon Duoji! Immediately! And those defeated soldiers, unworthy of the name of Tibetan warriors!"
"As you command!" The sweating messenger bowed, hurrying out of the death-filled palace.
"Hmph, serves you right! You invaders will one day face divine retribution!" The Saintess beneath Mudiruzan, despite the horrific wounds on her back and enduring a night of torment, remained defiant, taunting him even in her dire state.
"YOU! You're seeking death!" Mudiruzan abruptly stood up, pulling a curved blade from beside the throne and stabbing it fiercely into the Saintess's back. She shuddered and then life left her, a release from her torment.
"Despicable! Utterly despicable!" Mudiruzan, red-faced and completely consumed by rage, hacked at the lifeless body of the Saintess repeatedly, blood and flesh flying, spattering on him and seemingly igniting an even deeper bloodlust within him.
"Report... Report! Mudiruzan..." Another Tibetan messenger burst into the palace, stuttering in fear at the sight of the blood-drenched Mudiruzan.
"Speak! What's happened now?!" Mudiruzan glared at the kneeling messenger with the ferocity of a wild beast, bellowing in anger.
"Your... Your Highness, we have captured the queen and prince of the Kingdom of Nan Zhao," the messenger trembled as he replied.
"Ha ha ha, finally some good news! Ha ha ha ha!" Mudiruzan's mood swung from rage to joy, his previous fury instantly transforming into a triumphant and unrestrained laughter. "Bring them up!"
The messenger's face relaxed slightly, aware of the danger in serving such a capricious master, like constantly walking alongside a ferocious tiger.
After the messenger left the hall, Mudiruzan turned to the silent man in the silver mask, speaking cheerfully, "Mr. Zhang, Mr. Zhang..., Zhang..."
"Shut up, don't mention that name again!" The man under the silver mask glared with undisguised murderous intent at Mudiruzan.
Mudiruzan stopped abruptly, stunned by the direct rebuke. For someone as arrogant and self-important as he, such defiance was intolerable, but they were the only two living people there. As the Second Prince of the Tibetan Empire, his erratic nature had always been frowned upon, especially compared to his brother, the Crown Prince Muni, who was widely supported by ministers and generals for his stability and talent.
Apart from a few loyal generals like Duoji, Muge, and Tuli, his real strategist — Mr. Zhang — was the only one he could rely on. It was through Mr. Zhang's sinister strategies that he had managed to breach the strong defenses of the Nan Zhao royal city. Insulting the Saintess of Nan Zhao on the battlefield to enrage the defenders, luring them out of the city to fight, and then setting an ambush, feigning defeat to lure the enemy into a trap, were all part of an intricate and flawless plan.
Despite having breached the royal city and brought the Kingdom Nan Zhao regime to its knees, Mudiruzan faced a significant dilemma: his army was isolated and vulnerable, with the Kingdom of Nan Zhao military, 800,000 strong, stationed at the border. Without a proper resolution, they would be cornered into a desperate situation.
However, Mr. Zhang claimed to have a solution to this pressing issue, which was one of the reasons Mudiruzan hadn't yet erupted in panic.
"...Cough, Mr. Zhang... I have captured the Nan Zhao's queen and prince as agreed," Mudiruzan said slyly, eyeing the man in the silver mask. His expression hinted at a sinister plot. "You said that capturing them would subdue the 800,000-strong Nan Zhao army. Let me be frank, we only have 10,000 troops. If your strategy fails and the enemy's reinforcements arrive, we'll have no escape. But remember, Mr. Zhang, before I fall, you won't be leaving alive either."
The strategist wearing the silver mask glanced disdainfully at the arrogant prince and replied contemptuously, "As long as you follow my plan, those 800,000 soldiers will not only cease to be a threat but will become your sword, serving your purposes."
Mu di ru zan's eyes widened in astonishment, staring at the mysterious strategist, filled with a mix of skepticism and a crazed look.