Clan Rise: Starting as a Grandfather

In other words, the Tumoge just sold out the Baluke.

Naturally, Yang Zhenshan was pleased with this development.

He looked up at the slightly gloomy sky and said, ”Rest and eat on the spot, and prepare to attack precisely at Midnight!”

”Zhou Ren!”

”My Lord!” Zhou Ren answered.

Yang Zhenshan continued to instruct, ”Prepare torches; we will need plenty for a night raid tonight!”

”Yes!”

Subsequently, the soldiers began to rest on the spot.

After quickly munching on their dry rations, the soldiers lay down with the fur they carried and camped on the spot.

In late April in the North, the temperature was still slightly low, but fortunately, they acquired plenty of fur in Zhaerzi, which ensured they stayed warm during the overnight bivouac.

Time ticked away. Apart from necessary vigilance, most soldiers and officers took rest inside their furs, and Yang Zhenshan was no exception; he laid on a sheepskin, covered by half an ox hide, with only his head exposed.

Sleeping like this was certainly not comfortable, especially since he was still wearing his armor, making lying down somewhat uncomfortable.

But that was the condition in the wild; no one would complain about this.

Soon, it was Midnight, and the soldiers got up one by one, rolling up their furs onto their horse’s back.

The Baluke Tribe in the distance was silent, without a single sound.

Under the gloomy night sky, all was pitch black, with only the faint lights of the Baluke’s settlement.

The soldiers quietly mounted their horses, soothing their somewhat restless steeds.

Yang Zhenshan rode on Red Cloud, observing the distant Baluke.

”Let’s go!”

Without any unnecessary words, Yang Zhenshan called out casually and rode towards the direction of Baluke.

Under the dim night, to avoid being discovered, they did not light torches immediately, simply moving towards Baluke at a slow pace.

It was only when they approached within a hundred yards of Baluke that Yang Zhenshan ordered his soldiers to light their torches.

”Kill!”

The night was shrouded, and the roar of killing shook the heavens, awakening the sleeping Northern barbarians.

Then came the rising flames, a brutal massacre unfolding within the Baluke settlement.

Demons from hell were whimsically and wildly displaying their cruelty.

The sounds of wailing, crying for mercy, desperate shouts, and furious roars interweaved in the night sky.

However, all struggles were doomed to be futile.

When the first light of dawn appeared in the Eastern sky, the Baluke Tribe had been completely reduced to ruins.

Like a statue, Yang Zhenshan stood outside the Baluke settlement, gazing towards the Eastern horizon.

Soldiers behind him were efficiently clearing the battlefield.

They gathered cattle and sheep, transported supplies, collected heads, and dug pits for burying the corpses.

They distributed gold and silver, prepared dry rations, replenished drinking water, and rested on the spot.

”Sir, we have informed Mr. Yuan and Lord Wang about the situation here; they will be arriving soon!”

Yang Mingzhen arrived, covered with dust from travel.

Yang Zhenshan turned around with a calm expression and nodded slightly.

”Prepare to depart, next one!”

...

A man’s journey should be ferocious. Righteousness cannot coexist with such affairs.

A man should kill, kill without mercy.

Endless glory lies within the act of killing.

When Yang Zhenshan raised his butcher’s knife in Zhaerzi, it was as if he had opened Pandora’s box.

One tribe per day, seven days, a slaughter of a hundred thousand.

Of course, the number of a hundred thousand was somewhat exaggerated. Over the span of seven days, Yang Zhenshan led the garrison to attack seven tribes, slaughtering approximately thirty thousand Northern barbarians.

Within two hundred li on the north bank of the Songyuan River, not a single Northern barbarian Tribe was left, nor could any Northern barbarian cavalry be seen.

Panic spread, and rumors about the devil proliferated.

At the settlement of Kolcha.

Leader Duobato, with a grave complexion, sat in the chief seat, surrounded by over a dozen high-ranking Kolcha officials, among them a familiar figure—Zha Yan.

At the moment, Zha Yan looked dazed, his face pale, with dark circles under his eyes, giving him the appearance of someone gravely ill.

Fleeing for over ten days, arriving at Kolcha, he had thought they were safe.

But the terrorizing news that followed kept him from sleeping easy, with no appetite, restlessly troubled day and night.

”Zha Yan!” Duobato broke the silent atmosphere, his gaze falling on Zha Yan.