Chapter 1029: The First Wave of Reinforcements

Chapter 1029 -250: The First Wave of Reinforcements

The next morning.

On the city wall of Ho Wizan, soldiers and civilians were carrying wood and bricks dismantled from houses to reinforce the defenses. Everyone was preparing for battle in full swing.

With reinforcements on the way and the Demon Dragon aiding them, their confidence was greatly boosted.

Even the nobles who hoped to surrender to the Tatars knew they had no room for retreat. They contributed money and manpower and joined the city defense with their private troops.

“Ho Wizan used to be quite a beautiful town. The snowmelt from the Zagros Mountains gathers into the Karun River, washing out fertile land through the mountain pass. We were born here, grew up here. If you came at another time, the girls of Ho Wizan would offer you the sweetest grape juice and freshly baked bread.”

“But now, nothing is left.”

Governor Lomi looked somewhat sad as he gazed at the still-smoking village ruins, flattened fields and estates, and the Tatar Cavalry busy felling orchards, breaking dikes, and destroying irrigation facilities.

As the so-called Governor of Ho Wizan, he could only retract onto the city walls, unable to do anything.

“It’s hard to build a city, but easy to destroy it.”

The Frankish Emperor, wearing the Lombard Iron Crown, leaned his hands on the battlements: “Tatars are the destroyers of civilization. They don’t need cities, they don’t need farmlands, they only need slaves and livestock. There’s a saying: ‘Between two evils, choose the lesser.’ Compared to Tatars, barbaric Franks seem not so unacceptable, don’t they?”

Seeing Governor Lomi was too afraid to speak, Losa couldn’t help but chuckle: “Don’t be worried. I’m actually relieved that you, a fervent Ghazi, can make the right choice at critical moments, not to say kneel to me, but that you didn’t side with the Tatars. If these nomadic cavalry swept through Mesopotamia like locusts, who knows how many villages would be reduced to scorched earth.”

Governor Lomi stared at the emperor’s back, the sun reflecting cold outlines on the edge of the iron crown on his shoulder. The breeze lifted the cloak adorned with a fierce Dragon Head, yet this young pagan emperor somehow gave a reassuring sense.

If only Bahram Your Majesty had half the demeanor of this pagan emperor, Sassan wouldn’t have fallen to such a state, right?

He smiled wryly: “I just don’t believe Tatars are philanthropists. Dropping your weapons, willingly lying on the chopping block, and praying the one with the butcher’s knife would spare you? That’s just foolish.”

Losa sighed lightly: “It’s a pity most people don’t have your insight, nor your courage.”

Most of the time, Tatars provide relatively lenient treatment to those who submit, combined with the dreadful tactics of exterminating resistant cities, allowing them to capture cities without shedding blood.

Should they go all the way across the Persian Plateau, no matter how advanced Tatar siege techniques may be, who knows how much effort it would still take.

Historically, many cities surrendered and then rebelled because they surrendered just to survive, but found that under Tatar extortion, survival was impossible.

For instance, after Ghazni submitted, Tatars forcibly requisitioned most of the city’s grain, including the seeds, directly leading to a famine.

And the previous bloodless capture of Hamadan by Tatars also saw it surrender and then revolt, forced by Tatars’ heavy corvée and taxation.

Perhaps some tribes or Sassan governors gained considerable benefits by relying on Tatars, but those are the ones Tatars saw value in united front. Those without this value faced only exploitation.

Losa changed his tone: “Tatars’ siege weapon is already set up. At this rate, they’ll launch another assault tomorrow. How confident are you in defending?”

Lomi chuckled bitterly: “I’ll do my best. The enemies who attacked the walls yesterday were strong enough, but those heavily armored cavalry who haven’t yet attacked seem far more formidable, Your Majesty. If you and your dragon don’t intervene, I’m really not confident.”

He’s referring to the Qesem Army receiving Ivan’s division. Although they haven’t truly launched a siege, their exquisite armor and incredible archery skills are enough to showcase their elite status.

“You will defend.”

Losa smiled and patted his shoulder. Although he planned to temporarily cease combat with Tatar Casters, it didn’t mean he would strictly adhere to this unwritten agreement. Not to mention, with his battlefield aura, even weak forces could transform into strong ones.

“Moreover, the first batch of reinforcements is about to arrive.”

He looked up, and two black dots in the sky were growing larger.

…

In the town square of Ho Wizan.

The Shepherd was trembling as he drove the sheep towards the terrifying Demon Dragon that perched like a mountain. He felt his legs trembling, and the flock seemed paralyzed with fear, refusing to advance despite his beating.

He was about to cry: “M-masters, please help, if this ancestor goes hungry, we’re all going down its gullet!”

The guards driving the sheep along with him felt their teeth chattering as well. Even though the Demon Dragon was on their side, it was still a Demon Dragon. If it decided to unleash its fury, swallowing a hundred or eighty people was entirely possible. Who would dare speak out at this crucial moment?

Just then, the three-headed Demon Dragon, previously seeming to be taking a nap, suddenly raised two of its heads high, scaring everyone away like startled birds and beasts.

Only a head that emitted a ghostly green glow merely glanced upward before drooping listlessly again.

The highly poisonous dragon head knew that the mates of its two brothers had arrived.

“Heh, you two really don’t have any standards. As a mighty Legendary Ancient Dragon of my stature, only a descendant of a Dragon Queen as beautiful as the Obsidian Dragon deserves to bear my Dragon Egg. No other female dragon, no matter how charming, is qualified.”

The two dragon heads looked over simultaneously, showing expressions of sympathy.

“See, this fool has even forgotten we share the same body.”

…

Inside the Tatar White Tent, two prominent legendary figures from Shamanism are in a tense confrontation.

“Why should I join forces with you?”

The Wusun Shaman frowned and said, “I’ve already tried. That Fulin Khan is no ordinary person. In a domain clash, alone we don’t stand much chance. We must join forces to ensure victory.”

“Just because you can’t, doesn’t mean others can’t.”

“Wusun boy, you think inheriting the sacred instruments of the Great Shamans makes you equal to me? You really think the eagle, wolf, deer, and horse spirits are the most powerful beasts’ spirits in the world?”

Kuokuo laughed mockingly: “That’s just the leftovers I didn’t want. Your ancestors left you some relics, and you treat them like treasure. You think stirring a little destiny makes you a heaven-touching shaman?”

He raised his hand, and a dragon skull surrounded by a cold aura slowly appeared. Through its two burning bluish flames, Wusun seemed to see a world of ice and snow.

“This is!”

The Wusun Shaman showed a trace of surprise on his face: “The Sea Dragon you hunted when you traveled to the North Sea? But even if its spirit could be harnessed by you, it’s at most comparable to the Demon Dragon driven by that Fulin Khan.”

Previously, Kuokuo had used this skull, but at that time, it clearly hadn’t been refined into a “spirit” like a great eagle.

“Moreover, in yesterday’s skirmish, that Fulin Khan clearly still seemed quite at ease. Can you be sure he doesn’t have any cards up his sleeve?”

Kuokuo sneered coldly, “He’s not the only one with hidden cards. Wusun boy, do you know what secrets lie in the North Sea where I once ventured?”

“Endless ice? Snow everywhere?”

Kuokuo scoffed briefly, lost in memory, seeming to glimpse a mist veiled in persistent cold, and the faint outlines of what appeared to be giant beast remains, or perhaps a world-ending giant beast lying dormant, ready to awaken at any moment.

“If there’s any place on this world that still retains the ancient scenery, it would only be there.”

“The Han say, ‘The summer insect cannot speak of ice.’ You don’t even know what I’ve seen, yet you think you can assess me with your shallow skills?”

Kuokuo watched the puzzled expression on Wusun Shaman’s face, wearing a mocking smile. Wusun is just a pitiful soul who thinks inheriting the legacy of Shamanism is enough to equate him with Kuokuo himself. But little do they know, Kuokuo has long surpassed the ancients and stepped into a completely new domain.

Wusun frowned, “If you think you’re so powerful, why not simply take down that Fulin Khan? As I understand, he has a team of capable Casters under his command. Once they arrive, dealing with him will only get tougher!”

Kuokuo sneered coldly, “This is hilarious. For people like us, is a few hundred leagues even considered a distance?”

Wusun knew he’d been provoked by Kuokuo into saying something foolish, his face burning with embarrassment: “When do you plan to act?”

Kuokuo impatiently waved his hand: “Withdraw, Wusun, and stop uttering these laughable stupid remarks. Don’t try to interfere with my decisions. When I wish to act, naturally I will act.”

The angry Wusun stormed out of the White Tent, suddenly looking up.

“Two more Demon Dragons?”

“Clearly just two little ones, so why do I have this vague feeling of a chill running down my spine?”