"The Khan has given the order, today we will have one battle, whoever beheads Fang Lianchen and takes his head, will be rewarded with a thousand li of fertile land within the Han borders, to choose as he wishes." Tuer Hong shouted loudly on horseback, his voice clear and loud, echoing far away in the military camp.

  Moments later, all the prairie warriors heard the news. They involuntarily clenched their fists tightly around the hilts of their swords. Their eyes had unexpected surprise, but more was unwavering determination.

  In pairs, the knights mounted their own steeds, their faces no longer filled with hesitation and discontent, but instead replaced with joy and courage.

  The Great Northern Camp, the red ocean's hundreds of years of military prestige, at this moment has been thrown behind by these grassland Han people, in their hearts there are only four words: Thousand Miles of Fertile Land...

  The Xianbei, Di, Jie and Qiang, the 100,000 warriors of the four tribes formed a fearless and undaunted iron army, surging towards the northern great camp in an endless stream.

  Because the Red Ocean is the only all-cavalry unit within the Great Han border, in order to play to the cavalry's greatest strengths, there are no lofty city walls surrounding the Northern Great Camp, only several meters high palisades with arrow holes at the seams.

  The defense of the Northern Garrison is the most humble among the five major legions of the Great Han, but it was they who faced the strongest nation on the grasslands and never lost a single battle for hundreds of years. Even forty years ago, when the Xiongnu people were at their peak, they could only bypass the Northern Garrison to penetrate deep into the heartland of the Great Han.

  They were like an indestructible iron wall that stood guard over the borders of the Great Han. They were known as the mobile fortresses of the Great Han Empire.

  However, today they are facing an enemy that is a group of ferocious beasts who have been starving for hundreds of years.

  Fang Lingde and his brothers had already climbed up the watchtower. The two armies had not yet made contact, but they could feel an unusually intense atmosphere of slaughter.

  The prairie nation's most skilled tactics were not siege warfare, but the endless mobile warfare on the vast grasslands, which was also the main reason why the Great Han always tended to be on the defensive.

  But today, these grassland men formed a thick and long dragon in front of the northern camp, as far as the eye could see, they were all tall and powerful men.

  Such a formation, any experienced warrior would know their next move. They were going to launch a charge, the most violent charge against the Northern Great Camp.

  "What's going on? Have they gone mad?" Fang Lingde muttered.

  Fang Lingchen's face was grave as he said, "I don't know if they've gone mad, but I do know that the time left for us is running out."

  "He turned around and shouted loudly: 'Archers, catapults ready.'"

  Well-trained warriors faithfully executed the commander's orders, and after each arrow slit, the warriors' firm figures appeared, and catapults were placed in suitable positions.

  An elderly man stood out among the crowd, and in front of over 100,000 warriors, he raised his cavalry sabre high and shouted loudly: "For our land, Xianbei brave warriors, follow me in a charge!"

  He took the lead and rushed towards the tightly closed gate of the stockade.

  Behind him were twenty thousand Xianbei warriors, their eyes blazing with a fierce light, following in the footsteps of their chieftain as they charged forward without hesitation.

  The left wing of the great camp was composed of Qiang warriors, while the right wing consisted of Jie troops. Together they launched the most intense assault in history against the northern great camp.

  "Shoot arrows, throw stones."

  Order after order was passed down, and the soldiers of the red ocean calmly performed the same movements, but it was this simplest and most primitive pull and release that gave the grassland nation the greatest harm and the strongest blow.

  A lone arrow streaked across the sky, drawing a beautiful and elegant arc, interspersed with large boulders soaked in oil, burning fiercely as they smashed down on the heads of soldiers from all tribes.

  The wind is howling, the horses are wailing, and at every moment someone is dying a miserable death on the advancing road, only to be immediately submerged by an endless stream of successors, leaving no trace behind.

  Everyone is desperately whipping the fine horses under their hips, they are rushing forward in a flash of time, because they know that only by advancing can there be a way out, not just for themselves, but also for the survival of their ethnic group.

  As the distance gradually approached, a row of soul-stirring and deadly crossbow arrows began to shoot out from the arrow holes on the railing, their penetration power and lethality were even more intense than before, and the casualties of the grassland men became more and more severe.

  A moment later, Fang Lingchen and others immediately realized that the situation was unusual. The combat effectiveness of these troops seemed to have suddenly increased by a level. In the face of the strong blocking force of the Red Ocean Corps, their cavalry fell one after another. However, unlike in the past, this time, no matter how many people fell, the subsequent Han men did not see them, there was no fear and hesitation on their faces, their eyes were always locked on the gate of the Northern Great Camp, charging forward, charging forward again and again, until they were all gone or charged inside.

  "Bang..."

  The sound of collisions kept coming from outside the camp, and the endless arrow rain and huge falling rocks could not stop the footsteps of these Han men who had already put their lives aside for a moment. They finally arrived under the railing. However, the tall railing stood emotionlessly in front of them, and their advancing pace finally stopped reluctantly.

  Compared with those towering city walls, the height of the railing can only be described as a small mound. Such a height does not even require the use of cloud ladders and other large-scale siege engines.

  The Xianbei people took out the rope from their waist, threw it upwards, tied it to the railing, and climbed up. However, waiting for them above was the ruthless slaughter of the Great Han army, who had taken advantage of the height difference to occupy an absolute upper hand.

  An old warrior whipped his beloved horse, which suddenly and brutally lashed out at its back. The horse let out a pitiful whinny and charged forward with all its might, crashing heavily into the railing, but except for a slight tremble, there was no other effect.

  The horse lay on the ground and closed its eyes forever.

  The old warrior's eyes had no pity, no anger. He pushed the dead horse to the side of the railing, bent down and said loudly: "Step on my shoulder, climb over."

  The knights behind made the same choice without prior agreement, and their war horses, which they loved as much as their lives, became the stepping stones for them to climb up at this moment. Horse after horse, warrior after warrior, formed a ladder of flesh and blood.

  Frenzied, on the battlefield, a frenzied atmosphere permeated everywhere.

  When the first Xianbei warrior finally climbed over the railing, the old warrior who was lying on the ground had already turned white in both eyes and had seven orifices bleeding. He did not die from swords and spears, but was trampled to death by his own companions. Only his two eyeballs, which were bulging out of their sockets like a fish belly, still stared fixedly at the railing in front of him, his hands tightly embracing the war horse that had accompanied him for ten years, his teeth clenched, and his two rows of teeth had already shattered due to excessive force, but until death he did not utter a single cry.

  The warriors of the grasslands stepped on the ladder made of their companions' corpses and finally climbed over the railing that was several zhang long. Their faces were ferocious and terrifying, they shouted loudly, they advanced wave after wave, never retreating.

  The Han army's eyes finally showed a hint of fear, facing these already crazed beasts, their firm will finally wavered. Compared to the previous few days, these people were vastly different, such combat power, even the renowned Golden Wolf Army, was probably unable to be mentioned in the same breath.

  On the grassland, the living conditions are harsh and not ordinary. An increase in population of a tribe often brings about a new war. For a piece of dense pasture, two friendly nations can even become sworn enemies. Survival is not easy for these simple men.

  Their lives were helpless, the fertile grasslands were ultimately limited. Modu's southward migration was also out of helplessness, the steppes, that emerald green ocean which had nurtured him into a man, could no longer accommodate more people.

  On the vast grasslands, the most fertile pastures were naturally occupied by the Xiongnu people. The Xianbei and other tribes had grievances in their hearts, but they did not dare to have any objections. In their minds, the greatest wish was to have a piece of fertile land that could make their tribe live a life of abundance, for this wish, they could transform from the most simple-minded Han people on the vast grasslands to the most ferocious beasts from the depths of hell.

  "Dad, let's go up too."

  Behind the tragic battlefield, a tall young man was urging in a low voice. His large hands tightly grasped the hilt of his knife, and the bulging veins due to excessive force showed his turbulent emotions.

  "Agu Da, don't go join in the commotion."

  The old man silently shook his head and vetoed his son's proposal.

  "Why? They've already breached the gate, if we don't go now, there really won't be any credit left for us." Aguda growled in a low voice, and for the first time, he felt a surge of resentment towards his father, whom he had always revered.

  "This credit is not so easy to get." The old man's voice was still calm, and even his gaze was equally indifferent.

  "Father, is it really you? Thirty years ago, where did the hero of the Di tribe, Nan Yi Lie, go?" Aguda's voice was suppressed, with a deep sense of resentment.

  Calmly gazing at his son who was complaining, Nan Yi's eyes became sharp in that instant: "You are my son, the future of the Di tribe will be handed over to you for leadership. Remember this for me, nothing can be done impulsively, especially as the leader of a tribe."

  A'gu's lips trembled, and after a moment, he said hastily: "Father, I know what you're worried about. The Xiongnu are indeed brutal, but Modu Chanyu has always kept his word. Today, in front of so many people, he personally promised, if he goes back on his word, I'm afraid even his position as Chanyu won't be secure. Why do you still have such concerns?"

  Nan Yi Lie turned his head, his gaze sweeping across the battlefield, looking towards the endless distance, as if through the infinite river of time, seeing through the intricate situation, touching the hidden future in the void.

  "This war won't end so soon, we still have a lot of time and opportunities, many..."

  He repeated those last two words over and over again.

  PS: One chapter per day is the editor's requirement. I wrote over 700,000 words before signing a contract, please be considerate of this.

  Recommendation: I highly recommend the great "Rebirth of Kongming's Different World Point General Record", it has already been added to VIP, both quality and quantity are guaranteed, those who haven't seen it go take a look...

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