The Golden Family, rising from the Western Regions

Chapter 376 Qin Army's First Dimensional Reduction Strike in South Asia

Thirty miles southeast of the Hindu Kush Mountains, a small town called "Kapal" is shrouded in noise.

The two major Brahmin families in the city, the Moru family and the Varma family, are preparing for a marriage alliance today.

Although Kapar was located within the territory of the later kingdom of Ba, it was still firmly shrouded in Brahmanism at that time.

More than a decade ago, the army of the Kingdom of Ghurid stormed into the Khyber Pass, took control of the area, and brought the teachings of "Allah" to the region for the first time.

However, a mere decade or so of rule was far from enough to shake the foundations of Brahmanism, which had stood for thousands of years.

Historically, it was through the influence of the Delhi Sultanate and the Mughal Empire for hundreds of years that the beliefs of the people in the northern part of this subcontinent were changed.

At this time, Brahmins were still the mainstream.

As the sun rose higher, the hustle and bustle of Kapal reached its peak.

The wedding procession walked down the street, with four elephants draped in colorful ribbons at the front.

Each elephant carried a gilded wooden palanquin, and in one of the palanquins sat the bride of the day, Sushma.

Sushma wore a bright red sari, her skin was as white as milk, and her eyes and brows exuded the noble air unique to Brahmin women.

When the sedan curtain was lifted by the wind, her stunningly beautiful face left the lower-caste people on both sides of the street speechless.

"What a beautiful Miss Sushma..."

In the crowd, someone whispered a word of praise, only to be quickly silenced by their companion with an elbow.

If such "blasphemous" words were heard by members of the Moru family, they would be whipped at best, and possibly lose their lives at worst.

The people bowed their heads and retreated to the corner of the wall, as if even glancing at the Brahman would be a desecration.

Some even knelt down, not daring to let their filthy shadows touch the noble ankles of the Brahmin ladies.

At the front of the procession, the groom, Vikram, rode a white horse, but his face showed no joy, only impatience.

“Those tax collectors from the Sultanate this morning really spoiled the mood.”

"What a heretic, born a slave, dares to come to my door to increase taxes on my joyous occasion?"

"He even said he wanted to attack the Kingdom of Gur. I think he just wanted to take the opportunity to plunder the wealth of us Brahmins."

The butler beside him quickly bowed and echoed, "Young Master is right."

"This sultan, who has just ascended the throne in Lahore, was once nothing more than a lowly slave."

"He climbed up the social ladder by currying favor with the Sultan of the Kingdom of Ghur. Now that the Sultan of Ghur is dead, he dares to set up his own power base. What a petty man who has achieved his goal."

"How could I possibly be worthy of being compared to a Brahmin nobleman like you, young master?"

These words really struck a chord with Vikram.

As a pure Brahmin, he despised the "God" faith of the Delhi Sultanate from the bottom of his heart, and looked down on the governor who came from a humble background.

If his father hadn't stopped him, he would have had the servants throw those tax collectors out this morning.

Just then, a young Shudra man, out of curiosity about Sushma's appearance, couldn't help but look up and glance at her, his eyes meeting Sushma's inside the sedan chair.

"presumptuous."

Vikram caught this scene out of the corner of his eye, and in his already bad mood, he instantly flew into a rage.

The main reason was that this Shudra was quite handsome, and apart from his darker skin, he was even better than himself in other aspects.

Vikram was instantly enraged and pointed in the direction of Shudra, shouting, "How dare a lowly commoner look at my bride with such filthy eyes?"

"Men, drag him out and beat him to death."

In the caste system, Brahmins possess extremely high privileges.

According to the Manusmriti, when a Brahmin kills a Shudra, the price he pays is the same as when an ordinary person kills a cat or dog; he only needs to pay a very small amount of money.

The servants of the Moru family immediately rushed forward, dragged Shudra out of the crowd like a chick, and pinned him to the ground.

Shudra was terrified and his face turned pale. He begged for mercy repeatedly: "Young master, spare my life! I didn't mean to! I'll never do it again!"

But Vikram wouldn't listen. He rode his horse up to Shudra, stomped hard on Shudra's hand with his riding boot, and spoke in an icy tone.

"A commoner is a commoner, and is born to live with their head down."

“If you dare to look up at the Brahmins, you will have to pay the price.”

The servants raised their wooden sticks and smashed them down on Shudra's body.

The lower-caste people on both sides of the street were trembling with fear, but no one dared to step forward to stop them.

In Kapar, it was as commonplace for Brahmins to kill Shudras as to step on an ant.

Sushma, inside the sedan chair, heard the noise, but only lifted the curtain slightly to peek out before lowering it again; she was already used to such things.

His face remained completely expressionless, as if the person who had been beaten on the ground was not a living person, but merely an insignificant piece of trash.

Seeing that Vikram was still staring angrily at the Shudra's corpse, she shouted outside, "Vikram, Father and the priests are waiting for us to perform the ceremony. Don't waste your time on the untouchables."

Vikram then calmed down and waved to the servants: "Drag this corpse outside the city to feed the dogs, don't dirty our road."

After saying that, he rode his horse to the elephant and gave Sushma in the sedan chair a relatively gentle smile: "You've thought things through. Let's go."

The wedding procession continued on its way, as if the atrocity that had just occurred had never happened.

The surrounding people, faced with this scene, remained expressionless; no one seemed to sense anything amiss.

Brahmins are entitled to these privileges.

Some people even thought that the Shudra who was beaten to death deserved to die, since he dared to offend the noble Brahmin.

The wedding procession quickly arrived at the Moru family mansion, where the wedding ceremony venue had already been set up in the courtyard.

Vikram's father, Shamar, the patriarch of the Moru family, was not waiting beside the priest, but was dealing with two Sultanate tax officials in a side hall.

Shamar wore a deep purple silk robe with sandalwood prayer beads, a symbol of his Brahmin status, hanging from his chest. He wore a polite smile, but a hint of impatience was hidden in his eyes.

"My lords, this year's tax revenue is already 30% higher than last year's. Kapar City is just a small border town, and we really can't afford to pay any more."

Shamal picked up his teacup, took a small sip, and spoke with a hint of probing.

His family had ruled the city of Kapar for centuries, and the nobility in his blood made him look down on Sultan Qutbdin, who was born a slave.

But now this slave has rebelled against the Heavenly Gang, and his army is strong and well-equipped, so he has no choice but to submit.

The head tax collector, Farouk, dressed in a drab gray linen robe with a cloth bag full of documents at his waist, immediately slammed his hand on the table upon hearing this.

He said arrogantly, "Chief Shamar, this isn't something you can decide."

"His Majesty the Sultan is going to war with the Kingdom of Ghur and urgently needs food and military supplies. Imposing an additional 30% tax is already an extraordinary act of kindness."

"Do you think that just because you Brahmins are qualified, you can disobey the Sultan's orders?"

Another tax official chimed in, his voice high-pitched: "Exactly."

"His Majesty the Sultan now rules Delhi and will sooner or later destroy the Kingdom of Ghurid and unify the entire north."

“You Brahmins, you’d better pay your taxes now, or the Sultan’s army will come and confiscate all your houses.”

Shamar tightened his grip on the rosary, cursing inwardly, "A bunch of slaves' slaves dare to be so insolent before a noble Brahmin."

Before the arrival of the Ghurs, people of such low status would not even have been qualified to approach the gates of the Moru family.

But he remained outwardly calm and could only change the subject: "I heard that the Kingdom of Gur is planning a northern expedition? The Liao Kingdom in the north is fighting with some unknown force. Is the Gur trying to take this opportunity to get revenge?"

Farooq scoffed, his face full of disdain, his arrogant demeanor a perfect example of the typical Indian haughtiness: "Gur people? A bunch of fools who just wander around in the mountains."

"The reason we were so badly defeated by the Liao Kingdom back then was because they were too stupid. If His Majesty the Sultan had been able to lead the army, we would have taken down the Liao capital long ago."

"Do you still dare to launch a northern expedition now? Isn't that just courting death?"

"Taking advantage of the opportunity when the Kingdom of Ghu's forces are moving north, His Majesty the Sultan's army can march over and conquer not only Ghazni, but the entire Kingdom of Ghu will be unified by our Delhi Sultanate."

"At that time, the tax revenue of your city of Kapar will be reduced by one rank."

Another tax official burst into laughter: "That's right."

"The Ghur army can't even defeat our Sultan's vanguard. Their generals are all cowards and will sooner or later kneel before His Majesty the Sultan and beg for mercy."

Shamar sneered inwardly, hoping that the Kingdom of Ghur and the Sultanate would fight each other to the death, but he didn't say anything more, only perfunctorily raising his glass to urge them to drink.

Just then, a burst of laughter came from outside the courtyard. Sushma, supported by her maid, wearing a gorgeous red sari, slowly walked into the courtyard.

Farouk's gaze was instantly drawn to Sushma, and he stared at her intently, a greedy smile playing on his lips, as he spoke to Shamar without any attempt to hide his true feelings.

"Chief Shamar, your daughter-in-law is truly beautiful! Her skin and figure are even more captivating than the dancers in Lahore. No wonder Prince Vikram is in such a hurry to get married."

As he said this, the lewdness in his eyes almost overflowed, as if Sushma was not a noble Brahmin woman, but a plaything that could be looked at at will.

Another tax official nodded in agreement, his gaze sweeping over Sushma as he clicked his tongue in admiration: "If we could have such a beauty warming our bed, it would be worth it even if we had to live a few years less."

Hearing the words of those two scoundrels, a surge of anger instantly rose in Shamal's heart. He wished he could immediately order his servants to drag those two lowly tax collectors out and behead them.

Kutbudin was born a slave, and these tax collectors were nothing more than slaves of slaves, their bloodlines so low as to be contemptible.

Before the Ghur invasion, when Kapar was still under Brahmin rule, such a fool who dared to offend a noblewoman would have been skinned alive and fed to wild dogs long ago; how could she still be so presumptuous here? At this moment, on the adobe walls of Kapar, two soldiers on duty are dozing off.

A man leaned against the battlement, toying with a rusty scimitar in his hand, and yawned: "This damn weather, not a bird in sight, where would the enemy come from..."

Before he could finish speaking, a muffled rumbling sound suddenly came from afar, like thunder in the sky, but more intense and deafening.

"Boom boom boom~"

He rubbed his eyes and looked curiously in the northwest direction. What he saw terrified him.

On the horizon, a crimson wave was rapidly approaching, with countless cavalry figures appearing and disappearing in the dust. The dust kicked up by their hooves blotted out the sky, as if to dye the entire sky red.

"Then...what is that?"

The soldiers' voices trembled as they pointed to the distant crimson torrent.

"Quickly, ring the bell! Enemy attack! Enemies are coming!"

Another soldier reacted, scrambling to the bronze bell by the city wall, grabbing the bell rope with both hands and shaking it frantically.

"Ding-ding-ding-"

The urgent ringing of copper bells instantly reverberated throughout Kapal, shattering the lively atmosphere of the wedding.

At the Moru family wedding, Sushma was holding a silver cup filled with fruit juice, preparing to toast Vikram.

Suddenly, she felt the juice in her glass ripple violently, and the ground beneath her feet trembled slightly.

He frowned, looking at the ground in confusion: "What's going on? The ground is moving?"

Vikram stopped what he was doing, and was about to laugh at her for making a mountain out of a molehill when the sound of the copper bells on the city wall came from above.

Immediately following were the soldiers' panicked shouts: "Enemy attack! Enemy attack! The enemy is attacking!"

"kill."

The crimson cavalry charged toward Kapar like a tidal wave, their hooves thundering as if to utterly crush the small city.

The attack on Kapar was led by Zhang Yue, the sixth commander of Erhu's forces, with a force of one thousand cavalry.

This all-cavalry unit, each soldier wearing a red cloth armor, with a scimitar at their waist and a powerful bow on their back, was clearly a seasoned elite force.

Zhang Yue reined in his horse, looked at the low mud-brick city wall in front of him, and a disdainful smile appeared on his lips.

This city wall is even simpler than the fortresses of herders on the grasslands of northern Xinjiang.

"Hurry up, all of you, don't delay the general's important business!" Zhang Yue shouted the order.

The Qin soldiers who were the first to rush to the city wall took out the iron claw ropes they had prepared beforehand.

With a flick of the arm, dozens of iron claws clattered and firmly gripped the crenellations at the top of the city wall, embedding themselves deep into the adobe bricks.

Qin soldiers climbed upwards quickly, their feet on the backs of their horses, like monkeys.

"Kill~"

The first Qin soldier scaled the city wall, his scimitar flashing coldly as he slashed at the terrified and trembling defenders.

The other guard was terrified and turned to run, but was kicked to the ground by a Qin soldier, who then slashed his throat with a curved blade.

"Ah~"

The few soldiers guarding the city wall were like lambs to the slaughter in front of the Qin army. They didn't even put up any decent resistance before they became victims of the sword. The whole process was as fast as cutting melons and chopping vegetables.

"Open the door."

The Qin soldiers who scaled the city wall rushed to the inside of the city gate, swung their swords and cut through the thick wooden bolts securing the gate, and the heavy wooden door creaked open.

A crimson torrent instantly surged into the streets and alleys of Kapal.

"kill."

Qin soldiers brandished their curved swords and slashed at the fleeing crowd.

Screams erupted from the streets and alleys, and blood stained the yellowish-brown ground.

As Zhang Yue rode his horse through the streets and alleys, he frowned as he looked at the dark-skinned people around him and muttered to his personal guard, "Why do the people here get darker and darker the further south we go?"

“They are different from the herdsmen of northern Xinjiang and the Hu people of the Western Regions.”

What puzzled him even more was that these people initially screamed and brandished their claws, and some even picked up stones and threw them at the Qin army.

But after the Qin army cut down a few people, the rest of them knelt down, covered their heads with their hands, and kept muttering something.

Its docile appearance was even more obedient than the dog we kept at home.

"Tsk, it makes me too embarrassed to keep chopping," a soldier said, scoffing.

The Qin cavalry charged forward and soon approached the Moru family's residence.

The wedding scene was in complete chaos. The Brahmin nobles had lost their usual composure; some hid under the tables, while others tried to escape through the back door.

Shamar stood in the courtyard, looking at the group of red soldiers who had rushed in, his face full of confusion and fear.

These soldiers wore unprecedented crimson armor and fought with an incredibly fierce style, unlike the army of the Kingdom of Ghurid, or even the people of the Delhi Sultanate.

"Whose army are you...? Were you sent by the Ghurs?"

Shamar tried to remain calm and asked questions in the manner of a Brahmin, but his voice trembled uncontrollably.

He looked at Farouk and Karim, who were hiding under the table, hoping that the two tax officials from the Sultanate could provide an answer.

But the two men were already trembling with fear and didn't even dare to lift their heads, so they couldn't possibly answer his question.

The Qin soldiers couldn't understand what Shamar was saying at all. They only saw Sushma being protected by a maid behind her. Their eyes lit up, and they reached out and picked Sushma up by the waist, pressing her onto the horse's back.

"Ahhh~"

"Help, help~"

Sushma screamed in terror and struggled desperately, but the soldiers held her down firmly, preventing her from moving.

Vikram, who was standing nearby, turned pale when he saw the bride being snatched. He dropped the scimitar in his hand and his legs trembled uncontrollably.

He was arrogant and domineering in front of the lower castes, but when faced with Qin soldiers who would kill at the slightest provocation, he was more docile than a rabbit and didn't even have the courage to step forward and stop them.

Seeing this, Shamar became enraged and rushed forward to argue, shouting, "Let her go! I am a Brahmin..."

Before he could finish speaking, a Qin soldier impatiently swung his sword, the sharp curved blade slicing through his throat.

"Do not……"

Shamal clutched his neck, blood gushing from between his fingers, his eyes filled with disbelief, before collapsing heavily to the ground, lifeless.

The tax official hiding under the table was so frightened by what he saw that he almost fainted.

They were just boasting about the Sudanese army's prowess, but now, in front of the Qin army, all that boasting has become a joke.

This red army was more ferocious than any army they had ever seen; the city of Kapal was utterly destroyed.

Before they could react, a Qin soldier kicked over the table, saw the two people hiding there, gripped his knife, and stabbed them repeatedly.

When the Qin army first arrived on this land, it was precisely the time to assess their position in the food chain.

The local natives were unaware of the Qin army's power, so they needed to kill people to establish their authority.

Regardless of the outcome, let's kill a bunch of people first.

Zhang Yue led his cavalry in a fierce charge through the city. Seeing that no one dared to resist anymore and most of them knelt down and begged for mercy, he ordered the slaughter to stop and began to count the spoils of war.

As he rode his horse, looking at the corpses scattered on the ground and the panicked prisoners, a cold smile curled at the corner of his mouth: "This city of Kapar, it was taken so easily."

But then he hesitated and said, "It's just that some women are too ugly."

He discovered that the women in this land were divided into two types.

Women with fair skin are similar to the Gur and Turkic people of the north—tall and beautiful.

But there is another type of indigenous woman, short and dark-skinned, who makes people lose all appetite.

Subsequently, after explanation from the accompanying prisoners of war, Gur, it was revealed that the ruling class in this region could be distinguished by the color of their skin.

The fairer a person's skin, the higher their social status.

People with dark skin, on the other hand, belong to the ruled class.

Therefore, Zhang Yue ordered that all the white-skinned men be killed, and that the short, dark-skinned men be kept to work as cattle and horses.

However, it was later discovered that although these short, dark men were servile and easy to control, they were too lazy and always shirked their duties, requiring whipping to get them to work.

They also enjoy internal strife and competing with each other.

In short, the racial inferiority complex is too strong.

Zhang Yue simply stopped caring and only gave the livestock a small amount of food, then used it to the point of exhaustion.

After all, there are too many Negritos in this land; it's impossible to catch them all.

(End of this chapter)