NCCnovel Chapter 270 The Struggle Between the Wanggu Tribe and the Hongjila Tribe
Chapter 270 The Struggle Between the Wanggu Tribe and the Hongjila Tribe
Naza returned laden with spoils, followed by several warhorses laden with trophies, their horses adorned with gleaming armor and sharp weapons.
He stepped into his simple yet vibrant temporary camp, his steps light and his face beaming with the joy of victory. After handing over these precious findings to his busy tribesmen, he didn't linger for a moment, heading straight for the most conspicuous large tent in the center of the camp.
Inside the tent, the flickering candlelight illuminated a focused figure—the strategist Wan Hanzhong was hunched over his desk, his pen moving swiftly, seemingly sketching out some important plan or recording details of the battle.
Naza gently lifted the curtain and stepped into the tent, a smug smile playing on her lips. Her voice was filled with pride and excitement: "Sir, we have returned in triumph, once again achieving a resounding victory. The equipment of the Li family army is truly admirable. The sharp swords and spears of the Jin people are like rotten wood before them, while our steel spears can easily tear through their defenses like a hot knife through butter."
After speaking, Naza's eyes sparkled with anticipation for more victories in the future, while Wan Hanzhong slowly raised his head, his gaze showing both approval and deep thought.
Wan Hanzhong frowned, his eyes blazing, and said in a deep voice, "This time, the Jurchen army has pressed in, and although we have repeatedly dealt heavy blows to their vanguard, we are still outnumbered and have been forced to retreat to this place. Now, the dead of winter has arrived, the cold wind is biting, and the tribe's food reserves are running low. Just now, I hastily wrote a secret letter. Take a look and see how we can send it out safely."
Naza respectfully accepted the letter, which was sealed tightly with sealing wax, with both hands. A hint of seriousness flashed in his eyes: "Where should this letter be sent?"
Wan Hanzhong slowly stood up, his gaze passing through the window lattice to the deep and mysterious night, lost in thought for a moment. After a while, his deep, magnetic voice echoed in the room: "Send the letter to the Heishan Weifu Military Command in Western Xia. There lies a secret trading post of China Grain and Oil. Once the letter arrives, I am confident that the person in charge there will do everything in their power to transport the grain we need."
Today's Naza tribe is not what it used to be. A huge group of more than 30,000 people live and thrive on this land. The amount of food and fodder consumed by the people and horses every day is astronomical.
Back in Xijing Road, they had carefully stockpiled a large amount of grain and fodder, hoping to live peacefully in this chaotic world. However, things are unpredictable, and the iron hooves of the Jin army came so swiftly and suddenly that those precious grains and fodder could only be helplessly left in the dust of Xijing Road, becoming nothing but a passing cloud.
Under the shadow of that strategic retreat, Naza secretly plotted to sever ties with the smaller tribes that had attached themselves to him, thus reducing the burden of his army's supplies and ensuring a lighter journey. However, this thought was quickly detected by Wan Hanzhong. Wan Hanzhong knew that in this chaotic world, manpower was an indispensable resource for war, crucial to Naza's future ability to establish a foothold on the vast grasslands and build a powerful empire.
So he earnestly persuaded Naza not to be shortsighted. Under his earnest words, Naza finally abandoned his initial idea. Not only that, during their arduous retreat, they demonstrated extraordinary magnanimity and foresight, not only refusing to abandon any of their comrades-in-arms, but also continuously absorbing scattered small tribes along the way, like trickles of water gathering in the desert, eventually converging into a force to be reckoned with.
Wan Hanzhong lightly touched the mottled texture of the map with his fingertips, his eyes blazing, and slowly spoke to Naza: "Chief Naza, in the current situation, the main force of the Jin army has already distanced itself from us by more than a hundred li. Judging from the clouds on the horizon, I anticipate that snow will soon fall, and this natural barrier may buy us a brief respite. However, the crisis is not over. To our east, only thirty li away, the Mongol warriors of the Hongjila tribe are gathering and awaiting orders, numbering over three thousand. If this hidden danger is not eliminated before the snowstorm arrives, the consequences of being entangled with them will be unimaginable."
Naza muttered indignantly, "What exactly did these Mongolian scum get from the Jurchens that made them willing to become their accomplices and so cruelly attack our own people?"
As night fell, the two men quietly gathered inside the large tent. In the flickering candlelight, they meticulously plotted their strategy against the Hongjila tribe. At this time, Naza had already assembled seven thousand valiant soldiers. If this force could be properly utilized, and they successfully defeated the enemy before them, he could use the captured equipment to further strengthen his Mongol army, allowing more warriors to don armor and grasp spears.
On the vast grasslands, Mongolian children develop an inseparable bond with horses and bows and arrows from a young age. This is not only an essential part of their growth but also a tradition flowing in their blood. Seven- or eight-year-old children can already nimbly leap onto the sturdy backs of male goats, wielding short, powerful bows and arrows, chasing and playing on the verdant grasslands, their laughter carried on the wind. Day after day, year after year, this skill of dancing with horses quietly takes root and sprouts within them, gradually honing into admirable equestrian prowess.
The Mongol tribes, scattered like stars across the grasslands, lived independently. Limited by technology and resources, iron tools remained a precious commodity, difficult for them to obtain easily. Consequently, the scarcity of weapons became a major bottleneck restricting the fighting capacity of their tribal armies.
Wan Hanzhong, this ambitious Mongol strategist, though a Han Chinese, had promised the local authorities to support the Naza tribe, and he deeply understood the importance of equipment in enhancing the army's strength. Therefore, he specifically pleaded with Li Zhen and secured a large quantity of precious steel armor and rebar spears.
These gleaming weapons, like divine intervention, greatly enhanced the fighting power of the Mongol tribal armies. They were not only masterpieces of the era of cold weapons, but also symbols of the wisdom and determination of the Han and Wan Han peoples, providing the warriors of the grasslands with an indestructible armor, enabling them to face challenges more bravely in their future journeys and protect this vast grassland that had nurtured countless sons and daughters.
The next morning, light snow began to fall. Riding on horseback, Naza directed his five thousand men to quietly surround the Hongjila tribe's camp.
Once everyone was ready, Naza drew his steel sword from his waist, breathing heavily as he shouted, "Warriors of the grasslands, prove your bravery with your steel swords! May the Eternal Heaven protect us and bring us victory! Charge!"
Five thousand men charged toward the enemy camp in the biting cold wind, and the huge sound of hooves immediately threw the Mongol soldiers of the Hongjila tribe into a panic.
"Enemy attack! It's an enemy attack!"
"Whoosh!"
An arrow struck the shouting soldier precisely in the neck, and the world fell silent for a moment.
The leader of the Hongji tribe hurriedly crawled out of the main tent. He didn't even care that he wasn't dressed properly, and immediately grabbed his scimitar to direct his soldiers to defend.