Chapter 484 ·Evil God (惡神) (1)

Sultan ‍​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌‌​‌‍Muhammad's face contorted at his subordinate's report.

"The ‍​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍apostates actually dragged infidels of the Far East into this? Are you absolutely sure about this?!"

"It ‍​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍is, Your Highness!"

"Those ‍​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍filthy apostates have finally done it!!"

Like ‍​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍a dragon of legend breathing fire, he spat his fury. "As if betraying the faith wasn't bad enough, now they're trying to hand Allah's lands over to dirty pagans!"

The ‍​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍minor detail that he was the one who started bombing and invading their cities didn't even cross his mind.

And why would it?

To the Sultan, this wasn't a war of conquest. It was pest control.

If anything, they were the traitors.

They were the arrogant rebels daring to defy him, the chosen proxy of Allah.

"To forsake Allah’s will and ally with filth who worship false gods... They deserve nothing less than death, Your Highness."

The Sultan's eyes burned with a vicious light as he listened to his lackey’s flattery.

"You speak well. Send word to the front lines immediately. Tell them to hunt those wretches down by whatever means necessary. I don't want a single person who shook hands with those pagans left breathing!"

After venting his rage at the apostates, Sultan Muhammad seemed slightly calmed. 

"And find out what sort of heretics these apostates dragged in!"

The advisor didn't miss a beat.

There was a good reason this man reported directly to the Sultan; he was a man with a meticulous nature.

"They belong to a new empire in the Far East that established itself through a recent uprising. Apparently, they follow a religion called the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult."

"The Heavenly... what?"

The Sultan scowled at the name.

His advisor immediately jumped in to explain.

"From what we’ve gathered, this character 天 stands for heaven, and this 魔 means demon or evil. Essentially, they venerate a demon said to be descended from the heavens. They are a twisted cult that literally worships an Evil God.”

"Ha! An entire empire brainwashed by an Evil God! They're a plague that needs to be wiped off the map!"

"Without a doubt, Your Highness!"

Now informed about the Hong Dynasty and its blasphemous doctrine, Sultan Muhammad sank into thought for a moment.

Once he'd sorted through his thoughts, he spoke again.

"Send Zayd to Andkhoy."

The advisor couldn't help but react with surprise.

Zayd was a commander currently waging a siege at the city of Mazar-i-Sharif (مزار شريف).

Not only was Mazar-i-Sharif significantly larger than Andkhoy, but it was also infinitely more valuable from a strategic standpoint.

More importantly, rumors claimed that the 4th Caliph of the orthodox Islamic empire was buried there, lending the city immense religious significance.

That alone spoke to how critical the city was, but that wasn't why the man was startled.

"You mean to send the Amir (أَمِير) himself?"

Amir.

If you translated it into Central Plains terms, it meant a Commander-in-Chief, a Viceroy, or a top-tier Warlord.

Muhammad had bestowed the title of Amir upon the five who had rendered the greatest service in the civil war that placed him on the throne.

In the entire Khalas Empire, only three people stood above those five Amirs.

The Sultan himself; the Grand General representing the empire's martial pinnacle, and the Old Man of the Mountain leading the Brotherhood of Purity.

Right now, one Amir was stationed in the west keeping an eye on the followers of Jesus, and another was mandated with defending the imperial capital.

The remaining three were pushing through coalition territory alongside the Grand General.

So it was no small thing for him to hear that the Sultan intended to pull Zayd away from his current objective and send him there.

The Sultan, however, looked at his advisor as if the answer was obvious.

"Harun died in battle there. It’s only right we let Zayd avenge him.”

Harun had originally been one of Zayd's lieutenants.

With the front line stretching so wide in this war, Zayd had split off a portion of his forces and entrusted Harun with the siege of Andkhoy.

The advisor had simply been caught off guard by the unexpected order. He had no intention of defying the Sultan, so he quickly bowed and answered, "I shall have the decree for the Amir prepared at once."

After the advisor left, Sultan Muhammad turned his gaze to the great map depicting the lands of Islam.

His eyes rested on the territories he had yet to claim.

"Filthy apostates and heathens."

He had become Sultan of the Khalas Empire, but that wasn't enough for him.

His true goal was the title of Caliph.

The rightful successor to the final Prophet Muhammad, the one who had spread Islam far and wide and ruled over all Muslims.

It was a title that served as both Pope and Emperor, the undisputed symbol of holy legitimacy.

To him, ‘Sultan’ was just a cheap label used by warlords who didn't have the Caliph's blessing but still wanted to play king. And this was doubly true for a man who had seized the throne through rebellion.

He wanted to restore the lineage of the Caliphate that had ended with the fall of the Abbasid Caliphate.

If the blood of Caliphs did not run in his veins, then he would earn that legitimacy through the great feat of unifying all of Islam.

It was for this same reason that he had renamed himself Muhammad.

The Prophet Muhammad had proclaimed it.

The last prophet after the messenger Jesus was he alone.

Perhaps the Prophet Muhammad had spoken those words to guard against future impostors who would claim to be prophets and lead the faithful astray.

And because of those very words, the moment the Sultan declared himself a new prophet, he would instantly be branded a heretic.

Thus, Sultan Muhammad had no intention of claiming to be the next prophet. He would declare himself the reincarnation of Prophet Muhammad.

More than that, he already believed it to be true.

That belief alone served as the legitimacy for his usurpation of the throne.

In his mind, the previous dynasties that failed to properly govern Islamic lands and were constantly swayed by the western infidels were nothing but false believers; they never possessed true legitimacy to begin with.

So, he was going to conquer and unify the entire Islamic world himself.

Once that was achieved, he would declare himself the reincarnation of Muhammad and announce to the entire world that a new era of the Caliphate had arrived.

Before long, the Sultan's gaze drifted beyond the borders drawn on the map.

"You will be next."

The western infidels who constantly stuck their noses in his business, and the eastern infidels who had inserted themselves into this war.

As the reincarnation of the Prophet Muhammad, he would spread the teachings of Islam across the entire world, even if it meant killing every last filthy heathen who refused to believe.

***

About ten odd days later, the decree dispatched from Baghdad finally arrived at Mazar-i-Sharif.

The man who had ridden horses and camels from far away to deliver it looked up, and what greeted his eyes were the crumbled walls of Mazar-i-Sharif.

"Ahh..."

His face lit up with emotion.

"The Amir has succeeded."

Zayd had conquered Mazar-i-Sharif.

Buoyed by a surge of triumph, the man approached the city walls and passed through the imperial checkpoints without issue.

The city had clearly fallen only hours ago, and chaos still reigned over the streets.

"Arrgh!"

The gruesome sounds and screams of those who had dared to rebel against the empire's will being executed echoed through the air, overlapping with the shouts of generals barking orders across the city.

"Take the young boys as slaves, and distribute the women among the brave warriors who have distinguished themselves in this Holy War!!"

Mixed within the cacophony were the piercing shrieks of women and children.

Yet, the messenger felt not a shred of sympathy.

To him, these were the screams of filthy apostates who had dared defy Allah's will.

Passing through the chaos-filled streets, the man finally reached the estate where Zayd was staying.

It had originally belonged to the ruling family of this city.

The man entered the palace-like structure and delivered the Sultan's decree to Zayd.

The Amir was a middle-aged man with a fearsome look, with scars carved into his face and across his body.

Zayd read the decree through to the end and smirked. 

The scar across his face twisted grotesquely, giving his smile a beastly edge.

"Taking this city as quickly as we did was worth the effort."

He had heard the news of Harun's defeat a few days ago. However, the Sultan’s orders came first, so he had focused entirely on taking his objective.

"For Harun, who has gone before us, let us rain divine judgment upon those filthy infidels!"

The moment the Amir finished speaking, the commanders standing at attention around him responded in unison.

"Allahu Akbar!!"

***

Some twenty-odd days earlier.

The day after Hong Dynasty's soldiers entered Andkhoy.

Salman stepped out of the estate that morning and stopped short at the strange sight before him.

"What on earth are they doing at this hour?"

The man beside him offered an answer. "It appears they're repairing the walls, my lord."

"Do you think I'm asking because I can't see that? What I'm asking is why they're repairing our walls."

"Perhaps they intend to mount a defensive battle here?"

Seeing his subordinate look so proud of his obvious answer, Salman thumped his chest in pure frustration.

"That's my point!! Why the hell are they gearing up for a siege here?! Did you sleep through the massacre yesterday? They have enough power to march straight to Merv or Mazar-i-Sharif and take on the Amirs' main armies head-to-head! So why in Allah's name are they sitting here playing house in Andkhoy?!"

His clueless aide clearly couldn't see past the tip of his own nose, only caring that Andkhoy was safe for now. 

But if the rest of the allied cities fell, they would be completely cut off and starved out.

Unable to contain his frustration any longer, Salman stormed off toward the estate he had given the young man called the Grand Preceptor the night before.

But the moment he stepped inside, Salman’s furious bravado vanished. His attitude shifted entirely to groveling as he addressed Il-mok.

"Grand Preceptor, sir. Forgive me for the presumptuous question, but when might you be planning to go assist the other regions?"

"Hahaha. The soldiers are quite exhausted from marching all this way. You can't fight a war on tired legs, right? We're going to get some proper rest before we head back out."

"..."

‘If your men are resting, why are they hard at work rebuilding our city walls?’

He couldn't bring himself to ask that.

The moment those words left his mouth, he had the distinct feeling that the terrifying sorcery he'd witnessed yesterday would be aimed squarely at his head.

Il-mok could see right through Salman's thoughts, but offered no further explanation.

‘There's no way I'm pushing into enemy territory when the supply lines are this unstable.’

Until reinforcements arrived and the supply route was secured, Il-mok had absolutely zero intention of advancing from here.

Left with no choice, Salman excused himself.

Over the following days, he made a habit of visiting every so often, trying to nudge the Grand Preceptor into action.

"My apologies, Grand Preceptor. Our Andkhoy is a modest town. Hosting forty thousand soldiers is straining us to the limit, and our food is nearly gone."

"Hahaha. Don't worry yourself. I'd already requested supplies from our homeland before we even arrived here. The supply cargo should reach us within a few days."

A few days after that second attempt came to nothing, Salman went to Il-mok again.

"For what reason have you sent ten thousand soldiers to the Amu River?"

"I'm thinking of building an additional bridge there."

"Wasn't there already one on the way here?"

"You can never be too careful. If there's only one bridge, all it takes is a small enemy raiding party to destroy it and cut us off and that would be a big problem, wouldn't it?"

"..."

Only then did Salman realize the truth.

The Hong Dynasty’s soldiers were prepared to stay for a long time here.

And a few days after that, the supply cargo Il-mok had spoken of finally arrived at Andkhoy.

Salman could only watch in silence as an endless line of supply wagons rolled into the city.

Il-mok offered a reassuring smile. "Don't worry. Once the reinforcements arrive, we'll move out to help the other fronts."

In truth, sitting idle in Andkhoy wasn't an option for Il-mok either. If the local coalition collapsed, his own army would be left completely isolated.

A few more days passed and more and more cargo headed back out to fetch the next shipment.

By now, the Hong Dynasty’s soldiers had done far more than just build a new bridge across the Amu River; they had also constructed a full garrison around it.

"S-sir! Urgent news!!"

Salmon burst into Il-mok's quarters without his usual servility as panic painted across his face.

"Mazar-i-Sharif has fallen! And the Khalas Empire's Amir who took the city is marching straight for us with seventy thousand men!"

While Salman looked ready to collapse from panic, Il-mok merely tilted his head with an amused expression.

"Hmm. Why march all this way to die when they could be fighting the coalition?"