The Records Of The Human Emperor Chapter 472
Chapter 472: Grievous News From The Southwest
Chapter 472: Grievous News from the Southwest!
Translated by: Hypersheep325
Edited by: Michyrr
Over vast tracts of land, over Erhai in the southwest and a vast and thick forest, not long after Xianyu Zhongtong led his 180,000 elites
A massive shout tore through the sky. A stalwart, middle-aged man with a black mustache, seemingly endowed with both strength and wisdom, stood on the lands of the southwest. He wore a flatheaded crown and an imperial robe, and his hand held a golden sword. Meanwhile, an aura as vigorous as the mountains or ocean surged from his body and into the sky.
The earth seemed to have awakened from a long sleep. It began to fiercely quake and shudder.
A killing aura so majestic that it seemed to take on physical form soared into the sky, sweeping through the clouds like a wave. The great earth was covered by the elite warriors of Mengshe Zhao, all of them armed for battle, wrapped in war halos of white or black. This mighty flood of steel was advancing relentlessly toward the distant Great Tang Annan Protectorate.
The thunderous beating of drums resounded through the heavens. In the sky, the dark clouds were in turmoil. After ten-some years of peace, war was finally about to rise in the southwest.
A massive hammer smashed down on a bright-red iron. As sparks exploded, the screech was so grating that it could almost tear apart eardrums.
Dang! Dang! Dang! The massive hammer continued to slam down, once, twice, thrice thousands of times. And the hammerers went from one to thousands as well!
On the massive Tibetan Plateau, fires blazed and smoke roiled. Thousands upon thousands of short and powerful -Tsang blacksmiths were swinging their hammers. On this plateau more than 4,000 kilometers above sea level, they worked night and day in the outdoors to forge armor, sabers, swords, U-shaped horseshoes, arrow tips, and all sorts of other weapons.
Sweat poured out in buckets as these -Tsang blacksmiths produced a stream of countless weapons and armor.
-Tsang did not have as developed a weapons industry as the Central Plains, nor was it as efficient. But no one would dare view with contempt the weapons produced on this plateau, because the blacksmiths here used that most primitive and most straightforward of methods: a thousand hammerings and one hundred temperings!
There was nothing aesthetically pleasing about the armor of -Tsang, and there certainly wasn't much skill put into its creation, but this armor was truly the toughest in the world, and also the thickest and longest-lasting.
The armor of one -Tsang horseman far outweighed the armors of the horsemen of the Great Tang, the Eastern and Western Turks, Goguryeo, or even the Abbasid Caliphate and Charax Spasinu.
This also made it so that ordinary weapons and attacks would find it very difficult to harm the -Tsang cavalry!
-Tsang armor took a great deal of time and energy to forge, but it also meant that among all ordinary armors, -Tsang armor lasted the longest.
This long armor-forging process had been started a long time ago. By this point, mountains of weapons and armors had been piled up on this vast plateau, creating a most magnificent sight!
Wings flapped through the sky as a pure white carrier pigeon flew through the smoke and sparks. A white-clothed and old-styled middle-aged Confucian scholar raised his head and allowed the carrier pigeon to land on his hand.
"Hahaha, Huoshu, it's finally time to start!"
Dalun Ruozan gave a faint smile and sent the letter flying with a flick of his finger. The thin page in his hands was like a knife, shooting forward like a bolt of lightning.
Nearby, Great General Huoshu Huicang of the -Tsang Empire's Ngari Royal Lineage was standing in front of a small mountain of Tibetan weaponry. Seeing the letter, he cast away the weapon in his hand and dexterously snatched the letter.
"Geluofeng is asking for troops again" Huoshu Huicang said in surprise upon reading the letter.
"Hahahah, this is the third letter!" Dalun Ruozan said with a derisive smile. Ever since Mengshe Zhao had retreated, Geluofeng had been sending letter after letter requesting -Tsang to send troops and for the two kingdoms to becomes allies. However, these attempts had all been stopped by Dalun Ruozan.
Huoshu Huicang turned his head and emotionlessly asked, "Do you want to reply?"
"There's no need!"
Dalun Ruozan waved his hands and sneered, "Everything that needs to be said has already been said. If Mengshe Zhao wants to win our -Tsang's support, then it needs to prove itself!
"The world has been peaceful for decades now. Is the Great Tang still as powerful as it once was Mengshe Zhao is the best test! If the Great Tang wins and easily crushes Mengshe Zhao, it means that the time isn't ripe and we need to delay our plans.
"But if the Great Tang loses
"Then that means that this is -Tsang's era!"
With these final words, Dalun Ruozan slowly raised his head, his gaze piercing through the mountains and rivers to rest on the distant southwest region of the Great Tang.
From the towering Tibetan Plateau, one could faintly see two trails of dust, two steely armies surging toward each other.
Perhaps now should be our -Tsang's era!
As this thought flashed through his mind, Dalun Ruozan's gaze cooled.
Whether it was Mengshe Zhao or the Great Tang, they would all be -Tsang's opponents in the end. In this southwestern war, the -Tsang Empire would be the final winner!
Day after day passed, Wang Chong spending his time calculating the state of the war in the southwest. In his previous life, although Wang Chong had not participated, he had been a witness. He clearly remembered everything that had happened.
"The future has already been changed. The war between the Great Tang and Mengshe Zhao has already been pushed forward half a year. I can only hope that the progress of this war changed as well," Wang Chong quietly said to himself, his heart burdened with worries.
Although his gloomy cell was cut off from the world and any outside news, Wang Chong could feel from the atmosphere that this war in the southwest had transfixed all of the Great Tang.
The air was filled to the bursting with worry!
And no one was more worried than Wang Chong. However, Wang Chong was still unable to leave. It appeared that the pressure from the Court of Judicial Review and Chamberlain of Dependencies was far stronger than he had imagined.
Several days later, right when Wang Chong was about to reach his breaking point, a figure appeared in his prison. It was not his big uncle, but King Song of the Great Tang.
Wang Chong was startled and instantly had a very bad feeling.
"Wang Chong, I have some very bad news to tell you!"
Through the bars of the cell, Wang Chong could see that King Song had a very unpleasant expression.
"The Great Tang lost! Xianyu Zhongtong lost"
Wang Chong stood up from the ground like he had been struck by a bolt of lightning. His mouth was ajar, his entire body paralyzed.
How could this be possible!
Wang Chong's thoughts were in chaos as massive waves raged through his heart.