Rise of a Lonely City: From Exiled Prince to Ruler of the Nine Provinces

In the second year of Xuanji, early spring.

In the still chilly northern frontier, in the city of Hanyuan.

This once desolate border town at the northernmost tip of the empire now presents a completely different picture.

The majestic city wall was reinforced and expanded on the original foundation, thickened with bricks, and lined with watchtowers, resembling a colossal iron beast lying prostrate on the vast snowfield.

Inside the city, the sparse houses were replaced by large, neat barracks, workshops, and warehouses, and the streets were wide enough for several riders to ride side by side.

Even more striking was the area outside the city—the once overgrown fields had been transformed into several massive training grounds, separated by wooden palisades and rammed earth walls. At this moment, the training grounds resounded with the deafening roar of battle!

Black banners, like a forest obscuring the sky. Iron armor, reflecting the light, exudes a chilling aura in the sunlight.

The infantry square formation was as imposing and solid as a mountain.

In the front row were swordsmen wielding massive shields and clad in heavy lamellar armor, their shields linked together like a moving city wall; behind them were a forest of infantry spears, each eighteen feet long, their blades pointing diagonally forward, gleaming with a cold, deathly luster in the sunlight; further back were archers, their powerful bows and crossbows already nocked and ready to unleash a deadly rain of arrows at a single command.

The formation advanced slowly to the beat of the drums, their steps perfectly synchronized, the sound of their footsteps thunderous and raising clouds of dust.

When changing formations, command flags waved and drums clashed. The vast square formation moved with effortless ease, swiftly transforming from square to circle, and from circle to cone. The transitions between offense and defense were incredibly smooth, clearly the result of countless hours of practice.

The cavalry swept through the enemy lines, swift as the wind.

On the left training ground, there were light cavalrymen in black armor. Both riders and horses were clad in light chainmail. The knights were agile, and the warhorses were swift. They galloped back and forth like lightning, and their arrows flew in rapid succession without missing a single shot. They demonstrated their horsemanship and archery skills, moving like the wind and bombarding the enemy with arrows.

On the right, there were the formidable heavy armored cavalry.

Both men and horses were clad in thick, cold-forged fish-scale armor, with only their eyes showing. They wielded twelve-foot-long lances or heavy iron maces and halberds. Although they were not as fast as light cavalry, when they charged, they were like a torrent of steel, carrying a terrifying momentum that could crush everything.

They were practicing breaking through the formation at this moment. The heavy cavalry advanced like a wall, and the wooden stakes and straw figures set up in front of them were instantly smashed to pieces, creating a terrifying scene.

Even more striking was the unique formation – the ballista battalion.

Dozens of heavy crossbows, improved by the Institute of Physics and now with longer range and greater power, were lined up in a row. The crossbow bolts, as thick as a child's arm, gleamed coldly in the sunlight, pointing towards the target hills in the distance.

As the command flag was waved, the mechanism roared, and the giant arrow was released with a piercing whistle, sending earth and rocks flying from the mound hundreds of paces away, and the dummy target was easily torn to shreds.

There were also trebuchets that were pulled by oxen and horses and could be disassembled and assembled, and firearms teams carrying strange bamboo tubes and iron pipes, practicing ignition, aiming and concealment under the instructors' reprimands. Although the number of people was small and the equipment was crude, the chilling and destructive aura that was different from that of cold weapons was already beginning to emerge.

On the towering North Gate tower, Xiao Chen, dressed in a black cloak, stood against the wind.

He wore no crown, his black hair was tied up with a simple jade hairpin, and he calmly looked down at the unprecedented and imposing steel army at his feet.

Behind him, the newly appointed Governor of Hanyuan and General Pingbei, Zhou Meng, along with several core generals and civil officials who remained to guard the northern frontier, stood solemnly, their faces filled with barely suppressed excitement and pride.

Zhou Meng was a man of imposing stature, with a face as black as iron, and a thick beard that added to his rugged and fierce air.

He was originally a fierce general in the Hanyuan Army, known for his bravery and fearlessness in battle. He had followed Xiao Chen since the beginning of his uprising, conquering cities and fortresses and making numerous military achievements.

Although he was straightforward and blunt, he was absolutely loyal to Xiao Chen and never compromised his military orders.

Previously, he had always been a general who charged into battle. Now that Xiao Chen had ascended the throne, he rewarded those who had made contributions and reorganized the national defense. In view of his bravery, loyalty and familiarity with the affairs of the northern border, he was specially promoted to General Pingbei and put in charge of the military affairs of Hanyuan Camp. He was ranked alongside generals such as Han Lie, who was stationed in Shenjing, and Wang Zhenyue, who was stationed in the Central Plains, which shows how much he was trusted.

At this moment, Zhou Meng strode forward, his voice booming like a bell, carrying the unique boldness and resounding spirit of a northern man: "Your Majesty! Since Your Majesty swept across the world and established your rule in the Central Plains last year, this humble general has been ordered to garrison Hanyuan, training the troops, and has not dared to slacken for a single day!"

He pointed to the rolling iron torrent below, his face trembling slightly with excitement: "As per His Majesty's decree, those troublemakers who surrendered, those border heroes who joined the army out of admiration, and our old brothers who fought their way up from the Hanyuan Army—I, Old Zhou, haven't been lenient with any of them. They've all been thoroughly screened and rigorously trained! Those who slack off, beat them! Those who disobey orders, beat them! Those who fail the training, train them to death! In three months, nearly 20% have been eliminated! The rest are all men who can grit their teeth, bleed, and obey orders!"

He took a deep breath, puffed out his chest, and announced the numbers as loud as the beating of war drums: "Your Majesty, the Hanyuan Camp now has 30,000 heavily armored infantrymen, the Iron Mountain Battalion, each of them can wear armor and wield a spear, forming a wall of formation!"

The elite light infantry battalion of 40,000 is effective in mountainous terrain and fortified cities, whether through rapid raids or direct assaults! The archer battalion of 20,000, known as the "Shooting Sound Battalion," can fire at any target within 300 paces!

The Xuanjia Light Cavalry, numbering twenty thousand, moved like the wind, their arrows raining down like a deluge!

The Xuanjia Battalion, with its 10,000 heavily armored cavalry, is so formidable that even a god couldn't stop them when they charge!

There are also 20,000 auxiliary troops, including crossbowmen, trebuchets, supply wagons, and engineers, all highly skilled veterans!

He paused, his face twitched, and he grinned, revealing a set of gleaming white teeth, exuding a fierce killing intent: "And there's that batch of precious gems newly allocated by the Academy of Natural Sciences—the Five Thousand Divine Machine Battalion!"

I, Old Zhou, have tried that thing. It's a bit noisy and troublesome to use, but its power... wow, it's absolutely top-notch for attacking strongholds! If you have enough ammunition, you can fire it in formation, hehe..."

He clasped his hands in a final, resounding fist salute, his voice seemingly shaking the city tower: "Your Majesty, this Cold Abyss camp now boasts a genuine force of 153,000 men! Every single one is armored and armed, well-fed, well-paid, and governed by strict military law. Moreover, most of them have seen real bloodshed! I dare not say that every single one is worth ten, but take them out..."

He swung his fist violently, as if to shatter the air in front of him. "I, Old Zhou, dare to swear on my head that I can crush any warlord! This is the army of a hundred battles, this is the iron fist of our Great Xia!"

150,000! Moreover, these 150,000 are by no means a rabble.

Among them were the core veterans who had followed Xiao Chen from the very beginning of the uprising in Hanyuan, had fought countless battles, and were completely devoted to Xiao Chen. These people were the backbone and soul of the army.

There were elite surrendered soldiers who had been rigorously selected, reorganized, and put to the test of "work-study" and actual combat after surrendering in the battles to pacify the Central Plains, Guanzhong, and the East China Sea.

They are familiar with the battlefield, experienced, and have become a reliable force after being reshaped by the military law of the Great Xia, the camaraderie among comrades, and the tangible benefits of food and pay.

There were brave warriors and good men from the border regions who came from the northern frontier, Longyou, Hexi and even further afield to join the army.

They were eager to gain fame and fortune in the powerful Xia army, bringing fresh blood and a fierce spirit.

Furthermore, new equipment was continuously being transported from the Gewu Institute—more refined swords, spears, and armor; more powerful bows and crossbows; and the "Shenji" firearms, which had begun to be deployed on a small scale and had already caused considerable trouble for the adversaries in internal exercises.

Xiao Chen listened quietly, his gaze sweeping over the various formations that exuded murderous intent.

The perfectly synchronized steps, the incomparably fierce momentum, the exquisite and gleaming equipment, and the air thick with the awe and confidence that only a truly powerful military possesses.

This is his foundation, the iron fist that swept across the land and lashed the world.

Although Zhou Meng's report was rough and straightforward, the confidence and pride he exuded were more powerful than any flowery language.

"A battle-hardened army..." Xiao Chen repeated softly, a barely perceptible smile playing at the corners of his lips.

This is not merely a surge in troop strength, but the ultimate manifestation of his years of painstaking management, campaigns in the north and south, and continuous absorption of the fruits of victory.

From a border garrison in a remote corner of Hanyuan to a powerful army of 150,000 elite soldiers, he has walked this path for far too long and shed too much blood.

"Zhou Meng," Xiao Chen called out, his voice calm.

"Your subordinate is here!" Zhou Meng immediately straightened his back, standing like an iron tower.

"These 150,000 troops are my blade and the nation's most important asset."

Xiao Chen's voice, though not loud, carried immense power and clearly reached everyone's ears: "An army is raised for a thousand days, but used for only one. My leaving them in the Northern Frontier's Cold Abyss is both a sign of trust and a heavy responsibility. Although Northern Yan has been pacified, the nomadic tribes of the grasslands still harbor ambitions to destroy us; their wolfish ambitions have never been extinguished. Although the western border is settled, the Qiang and Di tribes still need the deterrence of war to know respect. Although the Eastern Sea is at peace, the vast coastal frontier still needs a strong army as a backing to ensure safety."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over Zhou Meng and the generals behind him: "However, a blade needs constant sharpening, and tigers and wolves need to be well-fed. If one is too comfortable for too long, even the strongest bones will rust."

From this day forward, the various camps of the Hanyuan Camp will take turns going beyond the Great Wall to use the Hu barbarians as a whetstone to practice horse archery, raids, and encirclements, familiarize themselves with grassland warfare tactics, and capture cattle, sheep, and horses to sustain themselves through war and maintain their sharp edge.

The Shenji Battalion also needs to conduct live-fire drills in the border regions to familiarize themselves with the new equipment.

In addition, officers and soldiers from the Imperial Guards of Shenjing, the Central Plains Garrison Army, and the Western Frontier Army would be regularly selected to come and observe and train together. Han Yuan Army would impart all its knowledge and skills without reservation.

"On both the western and eastern fronts, if the imperial court issues a summons, Han Yuan's troops will be the vanguard, immediately breaking camp without delay."

"Yes, Your Majesty! Rest assured!"

Zhou Meng patted his chest, his armor plates rustling, "Those grassland bastards, fine if they don't come, but if they dare to invade the border, I, Old Zhou, will lead my men to slaughter them all, giving these new recruits a taste of blood! As for the imperial court's orders, His Majesty's word is enough; even if we, the Hanyuan Army, flinch, we're no heroes!"

"I will order the Ministry of Revenue, the Ministry of War, and the Academy of Natural Sciences to prioritize the supply of provisions, weapons, and rewards to Han Yuan."

Xiao Chen continued, his tone still calm, yet carrying an undeniable authority, "But, Zhou Meng, you remember this, and tell all the soldiers—I can give them the best armor, the sharpest swords, the most abundant provisions, and also give them unparalleled glory."

But all of this stems from loyalty, is based on military discipline, and is achieved through bravery. Those who draw salaries without working, neglect training, fail to uphold military discipline, or bully civilians…”

His gaze was like lightning, piercing Zhou Meng. "Your head, and this general's armor, may not even be safe. The Hanyuan Army is my Hanyuan Army; it must always be the most capable, the most obedient, and the most disciplined blade!"

Zhou Meng stiffened, his playful expression vanishing. He abruptly knelt on one knee, touching his head to the ground, and said in a deep voice, "This humble general will heed His Majesty's instructions! I will strictly discipline the army and ensure clear rewards and punishments! I will ensure that the entire Hanyuan Army remains loyal and brave, forever serving as His Majesty's sharpest blade and the nation's strongest shield! If there is any mishap, this humble general will offer his head in retribution!"

"We will remember this!" The generals behind him also knelt down in unison and echoed.

Xiao Chen nodded slightly, said no more, and turned his gaze back to the boundless black waves on the training ground.

The spring sunshine shone on the forest of swords and spears and the iron armor, reflecting a chilling light that sent shivers down one's spine.

150,000 battle-hardened elite troops—this is not merely a number, but a tremendous force, an absolute power capable of crushing all resistance and establishing an enduring order.

In the past, he led a lone army out of the cold abyss, defeating the strong with the weak, and sweeping across the world.

Today, we command 150,000 elite troops, our armor is sharp, our morale is high, and we possess new and powerful weapons.

There is no one left in the world who can rival him.

With this military might, the dynasty will sweep away all obstacles, subjugate all barbarians, and forge an unprecedented, prosperous dynasty forged in iron and blood.

Beneath the walls of Hanyuan City, war drums rose once more, and horns blared.

The 150,000-strong army changed formations and finally assembled into several huge, orderly square formations, facing the city walls and raising their weapons.

"Long live!"

"Long live!"

"Long live!"

The shouts, as loud as mountains and as powerful as the ocean, surged into the sky, shaking the heavens and earth of the northern frontier.

The black dragon flag fluttered fiercely in the gale, as if echoing the shouts of this invincible army.

Xiao Chen stood alone atop the city wall, his black cloak billowing in the wind.

His gaze had already passed over the cheering army, over the frigid city walls, and was now fixed on the vast grasslands to the north, on the towering snow-capped mountains to the west, and on the boundless ocean to the south.

His 150,000 elite soldiers are his most solid foundation and the first step towards a grander vision.

The unification of the world is not the end, but the beginning.

The iron torrent has been completed; it is time to cast the Nine Tripods.

The soldiers of Hanyuan will forever guard the northern frontier, and will also... drink from the waters of the world.