The Golden Family, rising from the Western Regions

Chapter 367 The Western Regions: A Lament for the Empire Amidst the Roar of Cannons

"Boom boom boom boom..."

Dozens of shells, accompanied by sharp whistling sounds, streaked through the pale blue morning mist like black meteors, crashing heavily against the walls of Samarkand.

The first shell hit the crenellations of the city wall directly, and the thick, earthen-yellow bricks instantly shattered.

"Splash splash splash~"

Stones and dust flew everywhere, and the Liao soldiers on the city wall were buried by the stones before they could even scream.

The second shell landed near the city gate. Although it did not breach the gate, it caused the gate frame to shake violently, and the wooden beams on the inner side of the gate creaked as if they were about to collapse at any moment.

"Boom boom boom~"

The roar of cannons echoed like thunder between heaven and earth, each explosion accompanied by the tremors of the city walls and the screams of the Liao soldiers.

Yelü Hongxin, standing on the city wall, was deathly pale. He gripped the crenellations tightly, staring at the cannons in front of the Northern Frontier Army in the distance, his eyes filled with fear.

He had already witnessed the power of the cannons of the northern people in Chaqi. The scene of thousands of cannons firing at once still sends chills down his spine when he thinks about it.

But today, the Grim Reaper's weapon has once again been aimed at the walls of Samarkand.

"Damn barbarians from the northern frontier, damn Li Xiao."

Yelü Hong gritted his teeth, cursing in a hoarse voice, his tone full of bravado but inner weakness: "They're nothing but a bunch of brutes who rely on evil weapons."

"If my Great Liao had such divine weapons, would you be running rampant in the Western Regions?"

He hated the cannons of the Northern Frontier, hated the decline of the Liao Dynasty even more, and hated that he had the title of emperor but did not even have a single weapon that could contend with the Northern Frontier.

He couldn't help but imagine that if the Liao Dynasty had such cannons, the Battle of Chaqi would not have been a disastrous defeat, Yelü Zhilugu would not have been captured, and the Liao Dynasty would not have been reduced to the point of having to cede territory and become a vassal state in order to survive.

With cannons, he could restore the prestige of the Liao Dynasty and crush the Khwarazmian Empire and the Western Karakhanid Khanate under his feet.

They could even march north, reclaim the homeland occupied by the northern frontier, and let the Yelü clan's banner fly again in the skies of the Western Regions.

But this dream ultimately remained just a pipe dream.

The cannons before him were the deadly weapons of the people of the northern frontier, and the death knell of the Liao Kingdom. Every roar shattered his last hope.

"Boom~"

Another round of shells came, and the bricks on the city wall cracked again.

One of the Western Karakhanid garrison soldiers was unable to dodge in time and was hit in the chest by a piece of gravel. He coughed up blood, fell to the ground, struggled for a few moments, and then fell silent.

This was the first time the soldiers of the Western Karakhanid Khanate had witnessed the power of artillery.

I had only heard rumors of the people of northern Xinjiang having "powerful weapons" before, but seeing it with my own eyes now, I realized that the rumors were far less terrifying than reality.

"The devil, that's the devil's weapon."

A soldier from the Western Karakhanid Khanate threw down his spear, crouched down at the foot of the city wall, clutching his head, and screamed in Karluk, his voice trembling with sobs: "God help me, I don't want to die, I want to go home."

Another Liao soldier panicked, his limbs trembling as he tried to climb down the inner side of the city wall, muttering, "This is terrifying! We can't stop them at all! Let's run!"

Chaos erupted on the city wall in an instant. Cries, curses, and the sound of fleeing footsteps mingled together, and the once relatively orderly defensive line was on the verge of collapse.

"Stop, everyone stop."

Yelü Wuhan drew his scimitar and roared at the chaotic soldiers, "A few loud noises and you're all scared out of your wits?"

"Have you forgotten that you are a warrior of the Great Liao? If you dare to run away again, don't blame me for being merciless."

As he spoke, he slashed a West Karakhanid soldier who was climbing down the wall with his sword. Blood splattered, staining the city wall red and leaving the other terrified soldiers frozen in place.

Yelü Hongxin forced himself to calm down, took a deep breath, and shouted to the soldiers, "Don't be afraid, everyone."

"Although the cannons are powerful, they cannot penetrate the foundation of the city wall. As long as we hold the crenellations, we can stop them by throwing stones and hot oil when they get close."

"Anyone who dares to desert their post will not only die, but their family will also be implicated."

He knew that no amount of cursing or daydreaming would help at this moment; he could only apply pressure with both fear and responsibility.

Most of these soldiers have families in the city, and if the city falls, their families will also be doomed.

Sure enough, upon hearing the threat of "implicating their families," many soldiers gradually stopped fleeing. Although fear still lingered in their eyes, they picked up their weapons again and nervously stared at the distant northern frontier army formation.

Outside the city, the Khwarazmian prisoners of war, hearing the roar of cannons, seemed to be plunged into memories of fear.

A prisoner of war trembled and murmured in Persian, "It's that voice...it's that voice."

“That day in the Gobi Desert, the people of the northern frontier used this thing to blow our elephant troops to smithereens… My brother died under this bombardment.”

Another prisoner of war tried to escape in the chaos, but was spotted by Qin soldiers, who shot him in the back with an arrow.

Then they tied the surviving escaped prisoners of war to the back of warhorses and dragged them along, the blood staining the red carpet, and the screams of the escaped prisoners of war grew fainter and fainter.

A centurion, pointing at the brutally murdered prisoners of war, shouted at the other prisoners, "Don't waste your energy."

"You either charge forward or die here. You have no other choice."

"If you want to live, charge onto the city wall!"

Meanwhile, the soldiers from the Eastern Karakhanid Khanate, who had come from afar, were filled with fear as they watched the cannons bombard and collapse the city walls.

A soldier from the Eastern Karakhanid Khanate swallowed hard and said to the soldier beside him in Uyghur, "God... how can the weapons of the people of the northern frontier be so powerful?"

"This isn't war, it's a massacre! Should we still charge in?"

"Can we not go through with it?"

The soldier beside him gave a bitter smile: "The northerners are watching us with knives. If we retreat, we'll be the first to die."

As they were speaking, a Qin soldier shouted in Uyghur, "Warriors of the Eastern Karakhanid Khanate, stop dawdling!"

"Once the commander-in-chief issues the order, everyone rush up! The first one to climb the city wall will be rewarded with ten taels of gold."

"Those who retreat will be killed."

The soldiers of the Eastern Karakhanid Khanate exchanged glances, their eyes filled with helplessness, fear, and envy for the Qin soldier.

The other party was clearly also a Uyghur, and must have been a subject of the Gaochang Kingdom.

However, he has now become a citizen of the Qin state and even served as a garrison soldier in Qin.

When facing their former compatriots, they became the superiors.

Although he was just a lowly soldier, even a centurion in the Eastern Karakhanid Khanate had to speak to people politely.

This is the confidence that comes from a strong nation.

"How impressive!"

"If only we could be soldiers of Qin, then the noble lords wouldn't dare to beat or scold us so easily."

"Yes, if I became a Qin citizen, even the daughters of noblemen might take a liking to me."

"Even if they don't marry their daughter to us, they will definitely send maids to serve them."

The soldiers of the Eastern Karakhanid Khanate whispered enviously.

Without a doubt, people from the Qin state were considered upper class in the Eastern Karakhanid Khanate. Anyone who had a relative from the Qin state was a first-class citizen, instantly elevating their status.

If it were actually people from Qin who went, the officials would have to treat them like their own fathers, showering them with money and women.

It is ostensibly to promote friendly exchanges between the two countries and to showcase the hospitality of the Karakhanid Khanate.

Meanwhile, at the front of the Qin army, Erhu, clad in full crimson armor, squinted at the Samarkand city walls, which swayed slightly amidst the roar of cannons but remained unbroken, a cold, sharp smile curving his lips.

He coldly ordered his personal guards, "Pass down the order to cease shelling."

"Let the Khwarazmian prisoners of war and the people of the Eastern Karakhanid Khanate attack the city now."

The guard was stunned and instinctively asked, "General, the city wall hasn't been breached yet!"

"If we attack now, they simply won't be able to breach the city!"

Erhu glanced sideways at his personal guard, his tone filled with undisguised disdain: "How long has it been since you personally killed anyone while serving by my side?"

"Her heart has softened?"

"Starting tomorrow, go to the 150,000th Household Office and become a low-ranking official."

He raised his hand and pointed at the Khwarazmian prisoners of war in front of him, his voice suddenly rising: "In your eyes, are the lives of those Khwarazmians more valuable than a cannonball from our Qin army?"

Although the Qin state had many cannonballs, they didn't just fall from the sky.

The artillery has been firing continuously for so long that the barrels are almost red-hot. If we keep firing, it will shorten the lifespan of the cannons, which would be a loss.

The guard was speechless when asked the question and dared not say another word.

Erhu's gaze swept over the prisoners of war trembling in the gunfire, his eyes showing no pity whatsoever.

"These prisoners of war are a waste of food if they live, but if they die on the city walls, they can use up the rolling stones and hot oil in the city, and they can also shield our Qin soldiers from arrows. That's their most valuable use!"

He paused, his tone growing colder: "Tell the people of the Eastern Karakhanid Khanate that I will give them two days. If they still cannot breach the city walls, I will tie them up with the Khwarazmian prisoners of war and use them as cannon fodder."

"Yes...yes." The guard dared not argue further and quickly turned to relay the order.

Erhu turned his gaze back to the walls of Samarkand, his fingers unconsciously stroking the scimitar at his waist.

He knew in his heart that his elder brother had entrusted him with the task of attacking the city not so that he would cherish the lives of these "outsiders," but rather to take Samarkand as soon as possible.

Using Khwarazmian prisoners of war and people from the Eastern Karakhanid Khanate to reinforce the city's defenses would reduce Qin army casualties and speed up the siege, making it the most cost-effective deal.

He didn't care at all whether those people lived or died.

……

"Boom boom boom~"

As the roar of cannons gradually faded away, Timur Ahmal, the general of the Eastern Karakhanid Khanate, reined in his horse and gazed at Samarkand ahead with a complex expression.

The earthen-yellow city walls trembled slightly amidst the cannon fire, and the tattered flag of the "Karakhanate" above the city gate fluttered in the wind—a scene he had seen countless times in his dreams.

He tightened his grip on the riding crop slightly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he murmured in a low voice in Uyghur, "Finally... finally we've arrived."

Since the split between the East and West Karakhanid Khanates, the successive sultans and generals of the East Karakhanid Khanate have dreamed of subjugating the West Karakhanid Khanate.

To reunite the divided Karakhanid Khanate and restore its former glory as a bustling commercial hub spanning the Pamir Mountains.

When Timur Ahmal was young, he followed his father and led troops to fight against the Western Karakhanid Khanate on the border.

He had vowed then that one day he would lead a large army into Samarkand and make the nobles of the Western Karakhanid Khan kneel before the banner of the Eastern Karakhanid Khan. But now, he was indeed standing outside Samarkand, with 20,000 troops of the Eastern Karakhanid Khanate behind him, yet he felt no joy of victory whatsoever.

They did not come as conquerors, but as "tools" for the people of the northern frontier, cannon fodder for them to conquer cities and territories.

"General, the people of the northern frontier are urging us to attack."

The guard beside him whispered a reminder, his tone tinged with fear.

Not far away, the red-armored cavalry of the Northern Frontier Army were poised to attack, shouting sternly at the dawdling soldiers of the Eastern Karakhanid Khanate, the cold glint of their arrows stinging their eyes.

Their mission was not to attack cities, but to be ready to deal with unruly Khwarazmian prisoners of war at any time.

This also includes the army of the Eastern Karakhanid Khanate.

Timur Ahmal took a deep breath, a hint of resentment flashing in his eyes, but he still shouted an order to the soldiers behind him: "All of you, be on your guard!"

"Carry the ladder and charge forward. Whoever climbs the city wall first will be richly rewarded."

But there was no passion in his voice, only an undeniable weariness.

An old soldier walked up to his horse and hesitated before speaking: "General, we...we are helping the people of the Northern Frontier fight against our own kin."

"No matter what, the Western Karakhanid Khanate is still descended from the Karakhanids..."

"Same race?"

Timur Ahmal gave a bitter laugh, his voice hoarse: "Will the people of the northern frontier recognize our kinship? If we don't charge forward, the soldiers of our Eastern Karakhanid Khanate will die here today."

He pointed to the Khwarazmian prisoners of war not far away: "See those people? That's what will happen to us!"

In the eyes of the people of northern Xinjiang, they were no different from the prisoners of war from Khwarezm.

Without another word, he spurred his horse forward, drew his scimitar, and shouted to the soldiers, "Charge! Charge to survive!"

The soldiers of the Eastern Karakhanid Khanate exchanged glances, their eyes filled with helplessness and sorrow, yet they still shouldered the ladders and moved toward the walls of Samarkand.

They finally arrived at Samarkand, the city of their dreams, only to pave the way for others' conquest in the most humiliating way.

"Woooooooo~"

As the bugle call to attack sounded, the deep rumble of war drums echoed outside the city.

"Dong dong dong dong~"

Driven by the soldiers from the northern frontier, the Khwarazmian prisoners of war, like wild beasts driven to the brink of despair, charged madly toward the city walls.

They knew that charging forward might offer a glimmer of hope, while retreating would only mean death at the hands of the northern barbarians.

A siege battle fought with blood and flesh officially began under Erhu's command.

On the city wall, Yelü Hongxin saw the Northern Frontier Army cease its artillery fire, and then he saw Khwarazmian prisoners of war outside the city being forced by Northern Frontier soldiers with knives and spears, carrying makeshift wooden ladders, and rushing towards the city wall.

Closely following behind were soldiers from the Eastern Karakhanid Khanate.

His expression changed, and he shouted to Yelü Wuhan beside him, "Quickly, prepare rolling stones and hot oil, they are about to attack the city."

Yelü Wuhan also realized what was happening and sternly ordered: "Everyone come to the top of the ramparts, push the rolling stones up, and heat the oil. We must not let them climb up."

The Liao army and the Western Karakhanid Khanate garrison on the city wall quickly sprang into action, pushing millstone-sized stones to the side of the battlements. Hot oil and molten gold in large pots sizzled and bubbled over the fire, emitting thick smoke and a foul odor.

……

As the sun sets, its orange-red afterglow spills onto the walls of Samarkand, only to be stained a dark red by the blood that has covered the ground.

The bodies of Khwarazmian prisoners of war lay crookedly piled beside the ladders, some with arrows stuck in their chests, others with their heads smashed by rolling stones.

The Eastern Karakhanid army also suffered heavy losses, which greatly saddened Timur Ahmad.

Erhu reined in his horse and stood at the front of the battle, looking at the tragic battlefield. He coldly said to his personal guards, "Withdraw the troops. Let these cannon fodder catch their breath. We'll continue tomorrow."

Just as the guards were about to turn around, they saw a general from the Eastern Karakhanid Khanate dragging his broken leg back from under the city wall, shouting, "General, stop the attack!"

"The rolling stones in the city haven't stopped, and our men are almost all dead."

Erhu glanced at him, then with a slight wave of his hand, the guard beside him drew his scimitar and swung it, abruptly silencing the general's screams.

"If you dare to shout again, this is what will happen."

In the dead of night, a roar suddenly erupted from the camp where Khwarezmian prisoners of war were being held: "We're going to die anyway, let's fight the northern barbarians to the death!"

"Let's give it our all, let's give it our all!"

Several young prisoners of war nearby were instantly ignited with emotion; some were newly enlisted herdsmen, and others were captured merchants.

Their eyes were red as they cursed in Persian, "The barbarians of the northern frontier treat us like livestock."

"They send us to our deaths during the day and don't even give us enough to eat at night. Rather than helping them attack the city and getting crushed to death by the Liao people, we might as well take a few of them down with us."

An elderly prisoner of war trembled as he grabbed the young man beside him, his voice filled with fear: "Don't...don't be impulsive."

"The crossbows of the Northern Frontier are formidable. We don't even have any weapons. How can we fight back? Let's wait a little longer... maybe there's still a chance to survive!"

"Live?"

The burly man turned his head sharply, his eyes filled with desperate madness: "Old man, didn't you see what happened to those brothers during the day?"

"His head was smashed by rolling stones, and he was turned into charcoal by hot oil."

"We're going to attack the city again tomorrow, and you and I will be next to die."

"Rather than die on the city wall, it's better to fight them now and at least die like a warrior."

Someone waved their fist and chimed in, "Yeah, let's go for it!"

"Even if we die, we will let the people of northern Xinjiang know how powerful we Khwarezmians are."

Some people huddled in a corner, their hands covering their heads, murmuring prayers: "God help me... God help me... Please don't kill me..."

The prisoners of war rioted; having no weapons, they picked up stones from the ground and charged at the Qin soldiers guarding them.

But the Qin army was prepared. The crossbowmen quickly formed ranks, and the commander shouted, "Fire! Leave no one alive!"

Arrows whistled through the air, and the prisoners at the forefront were instantly riddled with bullets, their blood splattering on the faces of the prisoners behind them.

Screams echoed through the darkness, creating a scene of carnage.

By the morning of the next day, the bodies in the prisoner-of-war camp had piled up to half a person's height, and the stench of blood mixed with decay permeated for miles. Countless crows and vultures circled over the pile of corpses.

The surviving Khwarazmian prisoners of war and soldiers of the Eastern Karakhanid Khanate turned pale at the sight of the carnage before them.

"You all better look up at me."

A Qin army commander rode out of the ranks, his whip pointed at the pile of corpses, and roared throughout the camp: "This is the consequence of rebellion."

"You think you can survive by banding together in rebellion? Let me tell you, here, there are only obedient cannon fodder, no scum who dare to cause trouble."

"Don't even think about running away, and don't even think about slacking off. Our Great Qin's divine crossbows can pierce your bones, and our swords can cut off your necks."

“If you want to live, you’d better obey and break down the walls of Samarkand. Otherwise, we’ll throw you all to the vultures.”

The prisoners of war kept their heads down, no one dared to answer, only the suppressed breathing mingled with the distant cacophony of vultures.

Because of this rebellion, Erhu had to temporarily halt the offensive and ordered the remaining prisoners of war to dispose of and burn the corpses to prevent an outbreak of plague.

At the same time, lime was splashed extensively in the Qin army camp and prisoner-of-war camps to take as many protective measures as possible.

In the days that followed, the prisoners of war launched even more ferocious attacks.

"Quick, charge forward! Anyone who retreats will be the first one I chop down."

A Qin army centurion brandished his scimitar and stabbed a dawdling prisoner of war to the ground.

The Liao army on the city walls were in just as bad shape as the soldiers of the Western Karakhanid Khanate.

Yelü Hongxin, leaning against the battlements, watched the "cannon fodder" charging down from below the city walls and shouted in a hoarse voice, "Quick, push the rolling stones down! Hot oil! Is there any more hot oil?"

Tayanggu ran over, carrying a blood-stained scimitar, and said urgently, "Your Majesty, the rolling stones are gone, and the hot oil has burned off. If this continues, we won't be able to hold on."

As they were talking, a soldier from the Western Karakhanid Khanate was stabbed in the abdomen by a Khwarazmian prisoner of war on a ladder. He screamed and fell off the city wall, and Samarkand was completely turned into a bloody grinder.

After that, the Qin army's artillery fired sporadically every day.

"Boom boom boom~"

The cannonballs pounded the city wall, causing bricks to crack and smoke to billow. The Liao soldiers on the city wall were hit by falling stones, and casualties increased.

As Yelü Hongxin watched the gap widen, despair grew ever stronger in his heart: "It's over... Samarkand is doomed..."

On the afternoon of the tenth day, Khwarazmian prisoners of war, under the cover of Qin army crossbows, scaled the city wall for the fifth time.

"Kill, to survive."

A prisoner of war roared and swung his knife, cutting down the Liao soldier in front of him.

This time, no stones were thrown down, no hot oil was poured on them; the Liao army's resistance had reached its limit.

The Qin heavy infantrymen quickly followed, stepping over the corpses, their long swords flashing as they sliced ​​through the Liao army's defenses with a "whoosh," shouting, "The breach has been opened! Brothers, charge!"

"The city has fallen, and the people from the northern frontier have entered the city."

Panic shouts came from the city wall, and the Xikara soldiers threw down their weapons and fled.

As Yelü Hongxin watched more and more Qin soldiers climb the city walls, he knew that the situation was hopeless. His face turned pale, and he collapsed onto the blood-soaked ground, his body exhausted.

Tayanggu, who was standing nearby, quickly helped him up and said urgently to the guards beside him, "Quickly, protect His Majesty and get him away."

Qin heavy infantry surged in like a tide. Yelü Wohan roared and swung his sword, cleaving enemy spears in two and then piercing the chest of a Khwarazmian prisoner of war: "How dare you trample on the land of Liao!"

A Qin army centurion thrust his spear straight at Yelü Wohan, who dodged to the side, but was then slashed in the shoulder by another soldier behind him.

He turned around with a heavy heart, swung his scimitar, and beheaded the soldier, blood splattering all over his face.

But the Qin army kept pouring in, and his arms gradually weakened, and he suffered more and more wounds, but he still held the breach tightly and refused to retreat even half a step.

"Your Majesty, hurry! This humble general will cover your retreat."

Yelü Wohan shouted to Yelü Hongxin in the distance, then turned to face the larger Qin army.

He finally collapsed to his knees, exhausted, his body pierced by several weapons.

On his deathbed, he gazed in the direction where the Liao flag had fallen, his eyes filled with resentment and sorrow.

(End of this chapter)