The Tyrant of the Great Qian Dynasty: Not only will I refuse to arrange a marriage alliance, but I w

Inside the command tent, the air was so oppressive that it was hard to breathe.

Huyan Ba ​​was half-dragged and half-carried back to the main tent by his guards. His severed arm had been hastily bandaged with wooden boards and strips of cloth by the shaman accompanying the army.

Blood loss and unprecedented humiliation turned his face ashen.

The news that he had been defeated by that young man from the Southern Dynasty with his bare hands on the battlefield spread rapidly among the 400,000-strong army through astonished mouths.

The morale of the troops has completely collapsed.

For these nomadic tribes who revered the strong, the myth of the Great Chanyu's invincibility was the only bond that held this massive coalition together. Now, that bond was broken.

Outside the main tent, the open argument between several tribal leaders could be clearly heard, with voices advocating an immediate withdrawal of troops back to the grasslands growing louder and louder.

"We can't stay here any longer! That Southern Dynasty city is a man-eating monster!"

"That's right! Even the Great Khan... If we stay here, we'll only face death!"

Finally, the most hot-tempered of the tribal chiefs, with a face full of scars, lifted the tent flap and strode in.

He completely disregarded Huyan Ba's gloomy face, pointed outside the tent, and roared:

"The Great Chanyu is injured! That Southern Dynasty brat, he must have used some kind of shady sorcery during the duel! Yes, it must be sorcery!"

He was saying this to others, but also to convince himself.

"We should break camp immediately and retreat back to the plains! Instead of staying in this godforsaken place and waiting to be killed one by one!"

His words represented the sentiments of many soldiers who witnessed the duel.

In their simple understanding, they simply could not comprehend why the Great Chanyu's incomparably powerful body could be so easily defeated.

They could find no other explanation besides attributing it to "magical arts".

Hu Yanba raised his head and, using his intact hand, struggled to stand up from his seat.

Without uttering a word, he walked with heavy steps to the tribal chief who was still chattering on and on.

The leader was intimidated by the violent aura hidden in Huyan Ba's eyes, and the words stuck in his throat, and he dared not say any more.

"Snapped!"

A crisp, resounding slap echoed throughout the entire command tent.

Huyan Ba ​​used his uninjured left hand to slap the tribal chief.

The powerful slap sent the equally burly man spinning halfway around, his cheek swelling up visibly.

"Coward!" Huyan Ba's voice was hoarse, yet it carried the unyielding authority of a grassland overlord. "Do you intend to tuck your tail between your legs and run away like a stray dog?"

He glanced around at the other generals in the tent, whose faces showed fear, and said, word by word, "The humiliation I suffered on the battlefield today can only be washed away with the blood of every Southern Dynasty person in that city!"

The lingering influence he amassed over many years as the overlord of the grasslands still exists.

The resounding slap forcefully suppressed the commotion inside the tent, and also caused those restless thoughts to lie dormant once again.

Just as the atmosphere inside the tent was at its most tense, a scout on patrol rushed in from outside, knelt down on one knee, and reported urgently:

"Reporting to the Great Chanyu! From the east gate, a man claiming to be the garrison commander of the Great Qian Dynasty has led about a hundred men out of the city to surrender! He says... he says he has extremely urgent military intelligence to report to you in person, Great Chanyu!"

"surrender?"

"It's that brat Su Zhe's scheme again!"

The Northern Barbarian generals inside the tent almost instinctively became alert.

They were already terrified by Su Zhe's endless schemes, and now when they heard the word "surrender," their first reaction was that it was a trap.

"Chop him up with a flurry of blows! I don't want to hear any more news about the Southern Dynasty!" a general said viciously.

However, after such a crushing defeat, any straw that can save a life is incredibly precious.

This was especially true for Huyan Ba, who was consumed by rage and a thirst for revenge.

His chief strategist, a gaunt old man with a goatee, whispered in his ear, "Great Chanyu, this man's arrival is highly suspicious. This could very well be another bait thrown out by Su Zhe, with ulterior motives. We must be on guard."

But Huyan Ba ​​was no longer willing to listen to any advice.

He needed a turning point, a hope that would allow him to turn things around, a chance that would allow him to wash away all the shame.

He abruptly waved his hand, interrupting the strategist, and decisively ordered, "Bring him in! I want to see what tricks he has up his sleeve!"

Soon, the Daqian general who had "surrendered" was bound hand and foot and brought into the commander's tent.

The person who arrived was Zhang Hu, who had been "turned to the enemy" by Su Zhe after the Battle of Nanmen.

As soon as he was led into the tent, his face showed terror and fear.

Upon seeing Huyan Ba ​​sitting in the main seat, he immediately knelt down and kowtowed repeatedly to Huyan Ba, his forehead hitting the hard ground with a thud.

"The guilty general Zhang Hu pays his respects to the Great Chanyu! Long live the Great Chanyu! Long live the Great Chanyu! Long live the Great Chanyu!"

His humble demeanor, so deeply ingrained in his character, caused the Northern Barbarian generals, who had initially been wary, to relax somewhat.

Huyan Ba ​​looked at him coldly and asked, "Are you the surrendered garrison commander? What urgent military intelligence do you have?"

Zhang Hu raised his head, his face streaked with tears. Following the script Su Zhe had taught him beforehand, he began his performance in a tone full of grievance and resentment.

He recounted how his elderly mother was taken hostage by the tyrant Su Zhe, and how he was forced to resist the heavenly soldiers on the city wall, describing the immense pain and torment he endured.

These words, spoken with heartfelt sincerity, perfectly portray the image of a filial son who was coerced into obeying.

After laying out his "difficult situation," he finally released the most crucial piece of false intelligence, which was enough to change the entire course of the battle.

"Great Chanyu! I, your humble servant, have risked my life to come here, to offer you a tremendous service!"

He deliberately lowered his voice, speaking in a volume only those in the tent could hear: "The city's food supplies are almost gone! That brat Su Zhe, just for show, distributed all the grain he confiscated from corrupt officials to the city's people. Now the army's grain reserves are nearly depleted!"

"I've roughly estimated that all the food in their city combined can only last for five more days at most!"

"In five days, without you, Great Chanyu, even launching an attack, they will completely collapse due to starvation!"

These words greatly invigorated the Northern Barbarian generals in the tent. The previous atmosphere of despair and oppression vanished completely.

That makes perfect sense!

It perfectly explained everything that had confused them before.

Why did Su Zhe risk leaving the city to fight when his forces were clearly outnumbered? — Because he was weak, and he wanted to scare us away with a spectacular victory!

Why didn't he press his advantage after defeating the Great Chanyu? — Because he had no strength left! His army had reached its limit!

Huyan Ba's chief strategist frowned and once again lowered his voice to remind his master: "Great Chanyu, this matter... is likely a trap. This should be Su Zhe's delaying tactic, deliberately spreading false information to keep us here while he makes other plans."

But Hu Yanba, blinded by the hope of victory, was oblivious to all of this.

This intelligence gave him the best excuse to save face and a perfect plan to win the final victory at the lowest cost.

"Trying to scare me off? He's dreaming!"

Hu Yanba slammed his fist on the table in front of him, making a loud noise.

The excruciating pain at the severed wrist contorted his face, but the light in his eyes shone ever brighter.

"Pass on my orders! The army will besiege the city and not retreat! Fortify the camps and patrol day and night!"

"I'll see what they can use to fight me when they run out of food in five days!"

"I want to watch them, one by one, starve to death in the city!"

His decision caused a fleeting look of worry to cross the strategist's face, but it vanished in an instant.

But he knew that no one could change the Great Chanyu's mind anymore.

To test Zhang Hu's "loyalty" and to further pressure the city, Huyan Ba ​​stared at Zhang Hu and said coldly, "You say you are sincerely surrendering to me, very well. I'll give you a chance to prove it."

"Tomorrow morning, you will go to the front lines of our two armies, face the city wall, and verbally abuse Su Zhe by name. The more offensive the better. I want to see how Su Zhe reacts."

Zhang Hu felt a chill run down his spine; this was an unexpected turn of events.

But he knew he couldn't afford to hesitate right now.

He dared not delay, and kowtowed again, loudly replying, "This sinful general obeys! This sinful general will certainly curse that brat Su Zhe's ancestors for eighteen generations!"

Hu Yanba looked at his fawning face and nodded in satisfaction.

His self-righteous decision led him to abandon any other options, such as an immediate offensive or a temporary retreat, and instead choose what he considered the safest and most satisfying approach—a siege and waiting.

This was exactly what Su Zhe wanted.