In my dream of returning to the Tang Dynasty, I snatched Wu Zetian from my lap.

Two days later, after the battlefield was cleaned up and the final calculations were completed, the number of Tibetan casualties came out, totaling more than 36,000!

Nearly half of them were killed in action, and countless warhorses and provisions were lost. This was a crushing defeat in the context of cold weapon warfare!

These corpses were ordered by Li Yuanchang to be turned into a Jingguan (a mound of corpses), with more than 30,000 people standing tall on this pasture, forming a terrifying yet unique landscape!

When the rescued and captured Tuyuhun natives walked through here in a line, they were shocked to see those gods who were almost invincible in their eyes turned into bloody heads!

Meanwhile, the scout battalion at the front also sent back the latest news.

After his crushing defeat, Dayan Mangbuzhi fled westward for nearly a hundred miles, abandoning large swathes of territory and taking with him the grain and money stored in several cities. In the end, his army disappeared without a trace on a plateau on the western front of Tuyuhun.

This is a characteristic of non-Han peoples. They do not need cities, nor are they good at defending them. They prefer a migratory fighting style, constantly moving around thanks to their excellent nomadic abilities.

The plateau was also a comfortable zone for the Tibetans.

The only city that was not abandoned by the Tubo Kingdom was Fu'ai City, which was the capital of Tuyuhun and held a certain strategic position.

According to Murong and the scouts, most of the soldiers in this city were surrendered soldiers from Tuyuhun.

When the Tibetans attacked, they feared the Tibetans would massacre the city and retaliate against them, so some nobles chose to surrender.

This place naturally became an important target for Li Yuanchang in his conquest of Tuyuhun.

Five days after the decisive battle at Gudu Ranch, Li Yuanchang officially prepared to march south and seize Fuai City.

……

August 28th.

Tibet, Lhasa.

This Tibetan capital, built atop a plateau and truly a forbidden zone for life, is mysterious and secluded, powerful and sacred.

Deep in the highlands, where snow and fog blanket the landscape, prayer flags and altars are everywhere, and yellow walls and red windows permeate the entire local color scheme, each place interwoven with the characteristics of Bon and Buddhism.

Believers knelt in devout worship at a magnificent palace, and even the slaves prostrated themselves with each step.

They believed that this was the key to leading them to bliss and happiness, but little did they know that all their burdens were caused by these people.

Among the many believers, several fast horses galloped across the snowy plateau, all the way to the highest red palace, which was the royal palace of the Tubo capital.

In the 7th century it was called Red Mountain Palace Fortress, and in later generations it was called Potala Palace.

A thousand years have passed, and the topography and natural landscape are vastly different. This place is a hundred times more dangerous than the one in later times!

Without infrastructure and industrialization, this would have been a nightmare for the Tang Dynasty.

Apart from the Tibetans, normal people simply cannot survive, breathe, or walk here.

The thin air, the rugged and steep terrain, and the endless, straight mountain ranges were suffocating just to look at, let alone conquer them.

As the highest center of the Tubo Empire, this place has been the pinnacle of power and religious belief since its inception, maintaining a sense of mystery and solemnity year after year.

But this very place experienced a massive earthquake today!

Then, from within the mysterious and majestic Hongshan Palace Fortress, the sounds of numerous incantations and scriptures emanated, and hundreds of horses were killed and pushed off the cliff.

"What happened?"

"The ritual has begun!"

"They're scattering prayer paper!"

"Who died?"

The emaciated Tibetan slaves looked up in astonishment, whispering amongst themselves, each feeling a sense of unease.

This is a special ritual of the Bon religion. Generally, when an important person dies, scriptures are recited, horses are sacrificed, or even living people are sacrificed.

Inside the palace, the puppet king, Mangsong Mangtsen, the grandson of Songtsen Gampo, was also alarmed.

He led a large number of shamans and ministers to the sacrificial altar.

The place was already packed with people, with incantations constantly buzzing around, and behind them, a chorus of wailing could be heard.

This was a special funeral ceremony, of great importance, but there was no corpse, only a weapon.

"Prime Minister, Prime Minister!"

"What's going on? What's going on?" Mangsong Mangzan was extremely young, no more than ten years old, and was wearing elaborate Tibetan clothes. He asked with a panicked expression.

A tall man, around fifty years old, with a hooked nose and high cheekbones, slowly raised his head. His eyes were filled with grief, even red, but he also gave off an extremely calm and unsmiling aura.

He simply cupped his hands slightly and said, "Your Majesty, the front lines have suffered a defeat, and Zanpo has been killed in battle."

It was all said in just ten words, without a single unnecessary word.

boom!

Mangsong Mangzan lost his balance and fell to the ground, and a large number of Bon followers quickly rushed forward to help him up.

"Praise, General Zanpo is dead in battle?"

"Does that mean we've lost?"

Will the Tang Dynasty hold them accountable?

"Minister, what should we do?"

The young king spoke incoherently, seemingly on the verge of tears. He was still just a child, yet he was the nominal master of the Tibetan Empire.

Gardonzan's men all flashed a look of disdain and contempt.

"Your Majesty, it's just a temporary setback. Our main force is still fighting in Tuyuhun, so there's no need to worry."

"Really? Really?" Mangsong Mangzan asked uneasily.

Gar Dongzan nodded, his expression unreadable: "Your Majesty, you should go back first. Everything here is in order, and the truth will not let anything happen to you."

"That's wonderful, that's wonderful."

Mangsong Mangzan glanced at the weapon that Zanpo had used, and whether he had been taught to use it or was simply frightened, he cried out, "Great Minister, please accept my condolences!"

"The king immediately ordered a golden statue to be made for the general."

"No."

Gar Tongtsen directly refused: "Zanpo's skills are inferior, and he has already suffered heavy losses; how can he be granted immortality?"

"The Prime Minister..."

"The king needs no further words, and the Gar family cannot overstep the rules; he is not worthy to have a golden statue made."

These words immediately earned the unanimous respect of the Tibetan princes and nobles present, who all bestowed upon them honorific titles.

Mangsong Mangtsen was young and had a natural awe of Gardontsen. At this moment, he was a little embarrassed, looking at the large group of priests, but he was like an outsider. In the end, he was escorted away.

After the young prince left, the scene returned to a deathly silence.

Galdonzan remained expressionless, stroking his son's weapon with one hand. He made no extra movements, not even shedding a tear, yet he portrayed the grief of losing a son in middle age to the fullest extent.

"How exactly do people die?"

"Where's the body?"

"Reporting to the Zanpu, the Grand General has reinforced the Grand Marshal and led his troops to launch a surprise attack on the rear of the Tang army. At first, they were unstoppable and broke into the enemy's formation."

"However, later on, the army lacked momentum, and the situation deteriorated. The Grand Marshal's troops were unable to break through the defenses for a long time, ultimately leading to a stalemate."

"The general charged into battle alone and was killed by Li Yuanchang's vanguard."

"As for the corpse, the corpse..."

Several messengers choked with sobs, stammered, and their eyes darted around, not daring to speak directly.

"Speak!" Gardonzan roared.

"The corpse was beheaded by Li Yuanchang and its head was used to build a mound of skulls at Gudu Ranch with tens of thousands of warriors!" The messenger blurted out in shock, his forehead pressed against the ground.

These words caused an uproar and outrage both on and off the sacrificial altar.

"What did you say?"

"A mound of bones?"

"The general's head was cut off?"