Chapter 503: His Demise
Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation
Han Sanhe grinned with amusement at Fu Baoguo and spoke quietly, "Marshal Fu, you and I both know that such a fortunate episode will never happen again. Why would you set this empty-city stratagem before me? Are you not afraid that this old man will be reckless and actually drag Yutang's eastern army as a burial sacrifice?"
Fu Baoguo could not help but blush at his words. But he pressed on for clarification, "Marshal Han, what do you mean?"
Han Sanhe chuckled and replied, "If the Nine Supremes can still attack, what happened just now would not have stopped or only lasted so shortly. If the Nine Supremes can still attack, why would they have given me time to reassemble my army? Marshal Fu, leave the Nine Supremes cheat code out of this."
What Han Sanhe had just said was exactly what Fu Baoguo was worried about the most.
Upon hearing his worry being exposed by Han Sanhe, Fu Baoguo's expression soured slightly before he hurriedly replied, "Marshal Han is indeed astute and levelheaded as well as having a sharp sense of reasoning. However, do you really expect us to reach a peaceful agreement just as you've dictated? In spite of Yutang being invaded without reason and having successfully retaliated, received no compensation in return? Does that mean that Yutang's people should just accept the cards they've been dealt? Furthermore, how can I be sure that Marshal Han's promise is genuine? The letter of a credence of peace can be easily scrapped in recent times, so how trustworthy is a mere verbal promise? "
Towards the end of his statement, Fu Baoguo's tone was dripping with sarcasm, taking aim directly at the letter of credence that Han Sanhe had suggested prior and then violated after.
Han Sanhe's face flushed in spite of himself. He replied after a short pause, "A promise can be rendered powerless depending on one's stance but some things can still be firmly assured. As long as Marshal Fu agrees to let three hundred thousand of my Dongxuan soldiers leave safely, I, Han Sanhe, am willing to behead myself on the spot – to offer my life as a guarantee to Yutang. This old man's life should be able to cover for the alleged lost credibility of a promise, no?"
Han Sanhe spoke those last words loud enough for Dongxuan's army to hear him.
Behind him, Zhan Ge and the others were shocked.
"Marshal, no!"
"Teacher, no! We haven't lost!"
"We'd rather die than to make such a compromise!"
Han Sanhe turned back abruptly towards his army and chided them sternly, "I haven't died yet, all of you shut up!"
His stern gaze scanned everyone and he spoke with anger this time, "Don't any of you realize what sort of situation we're in right now? Only by living can you continue to maintain some power for Dongxuan; if all of you die here in futility, what use would it be other than an insignificant moment of courage.
"I, Han Sanhe, am in my old age now. How many more years can I live even if I were to linger on earth? I've killed innumerable people in this lifetime, innocent souls who have died from my commands are in the hundreds of thousands. If I can redeem it with my life today, it would be like a dream come true."
"My singular life in exchange for the safe return of three hundred thousand great men, what's there for me to regret? My mind is set, no one is to advise me otherwise; anyone who attempts to stop me will be penalized with military rule! I, Han Sanhe, do not hope to behead any of my comrades before I die!"
Han Sanhe turned away resolutely after he spoke, no longer looking at the Dongxuan army.
Because of that, he did not see the army tearing up, choking from sobbing.
Han Sanhe turned to face Fu Baoguo again and said calmly, "I only have this one request and in return, I offer the greatest price that I am able to pay now. I wonder if Marshal Fu can fulfill this request for me?"
Han Sanhe had asked if Fu Baoguo could 'fulfill' his request and not 'promise' him; it was only one different word, but the meaning behind it was worth pondering upon.
At that moment, Fu Baoguo fully understood Han Sanhe's painstaking effort.
In spite of himself, he could not help but sigh in empathy for Han Sanhe.
This marshal who had intimidated the continent for decades, this unrivaled marshal who had paved his way as the God of War with battles and blood, had finally come to the most significant moment of his life.
"Marshal Han." Fu Baoguo sighed in lamentation. "I understand. I… am happy to fulfill it."
He sucked in a deep breath and said, "Marshal Han, as Tianxuan's God of War, you didn't lose to Yutang. You've lost to Dongxuan – not on the battlefield but by the manipulations of Dongxuan's imperial court. Therefore, your downfall has nothing to do with the battlefield – you are still the undefeatable God of War. The only thing I can do now is to fulfill this last wish of yours!"
Han Sanhe trained his gaze on Fu Baoguo and said softly, "Marshal Fu, don't agree to it so easily. The implications of this matter are grim; you, as the direct litigant, have a huge responsibility to shoulder. Can you bear it?"
Fu Baoguo smiled in a carefree manner, "I understand instinctively and I also don't want to see Marshal Han's end becoming any more forlorn. As a militant myself, this is the last respect I can pay to Marshal Han, the continent's God of War."
"We are enemies and we stand against each other with opposing viewpoints, but in this matter, I, Fu Baoguo, will bear the consequences!"
Fu Baoguo's smile was sincere and filled with a sense of lamentation.
Han Sanhe watched him carefully. He sighed, "Fu Baoguo, what a talent you are. As a general, you have the courage to act bravely and dare be held accountable, boldness to be decisive during a war, tactical skills to strategize and command, wisdom to be levelheaded and clear-minded, and ultimately, the way of life to advance and retreat appropriately. Fu Baoguo, you truly are an all-rounded talent!"
"Marshal Han, you flatter me with your words," replied Fu Baoguo.
Han Sanhe sighed again gently and suddenly turned to look at Yun Yang, saying softly, "Young Master Yun, if something should happen in the future… I ask Young Master Yun to look after the Han Family."
Yun Yang was stunned, but after a moment, he replied, "I do not understand Marshal Han's words."
Yun Yang was not feigning ignorance. Han Sanhe was from Dongxuan after all. Was he appointing him to be a guardian before his death? Could he actually be useful? He probably could not since they were not even in the same country?!
Han Sanhe smiled lightly as he explained, "Young Master Yun doesn't need to understand it right now. Just remember this old man's request. Things will sort themselves out in the future."
Yun Yang frowned and replied thoughtfully, "Then, I… will agree to it."
Han Sanhe chuckled. "Young Master Yun is a royal descendant, your nobility goes without saying. There will be no one else in this world who can have a more profound fate than Young Master Yun. Since you've agreed to it, it shows justice even more. This old man has no other concerns and no more regrets."
"Thank you, Marshal Fu, thank you Young Master Yun, for your kind fulfillment." Han Sanhe cupped a palm over his fist as a sign of gratitude.
Before the words could even echo, he took a few steps back and turned around. Looking at the Dongxuan army who's faces were anxious and worried, who was about to charge out, Han Sanhe commanded loudly, "Attention to my command!"
"Yes!"
"Withdraw the army immediately! Do not stop along the way, go straight to the capital. This war will be abandoned here and now. This order is effective as of now."
After he delivered his command, with a sharp clang sound, his sword was already gripped tightly in his hand; determination etched on his face.
"Teacher!"
Zhan Ge was shocked seeing the motion of Han Sanhe drawing his sword.
Not caring about the military command, he sprinted forward.
The clouds were moving rapidly across the sky, the wintery wind still billowing all around. Han Sanhe's robe fluttered amidst the cold air as if he was about to leave with the wind.
Upon seeing Zhan Ge rushing forward, Han Sanhe waved his hand gently. Though it was only a gentle action, Zhan Ge looked like he was struck by a bolt of lightning, halting his sprint abruptly. He eyes were filled with tears, calling out in grief, "Teacher…"
Han Sanhe smiled faintly, softly reciting, "One wars in his lifetime between heaven and earth, one command as heavy as a mountain, able to kill plenty; one battles all year round feeding on snow, my homeland is unreachable in decades; one ends affairs of the world for the emperor, the bold vision to conquer lands…"
A forlorn look came upon his face as he continued, murmuring, "It's endurable to cook the hound once the hares are bagged, it's without regrets that the bow is kept once all the birds are shot; one only laments the cold distance between an emperor and an official before the ambition is achieved. The army sets off thousands of miles into the land of nowhere, it's still a delight to fight battles in armor; good and bad they are all wiped out, and the territory is vast from now on. It's hard to recall the prime, the old man tears without words; this life is returned to the world today, let it be returned wrapped in horsehide. One enlists since youth, but this stage is inevitable still."
Han Sanhe heaved a long sigh facing the sky, calling out melancholically, "Oh, Your Majesty…"
He did not finish his words.
A sudden flash of sword light, a flash of blood.
Crimson streamed from his neck like a fountain, staining mountains and rivers.
Han Sanhe held his sword in one hand as he stood between heaven and earth, in front of two armies, unmoving.
He would never move again.
The God of War left the world at that moment.
"Teacher…"
Zhan Ge cried out wretchedly, kneeling down like he had lost a part of his soul, wailing.
"Marshal!"
Cries erupted from the Dongxuan army, countless military men sobbing openly.
Yun Yang and Fu Baoguo could not help but sigh inwardly looking at Han Sanhe's body.
His breathing had stopped, life had left his body, but Han Sanhe remained standing. His expression was indifferent, his eyes still looking forward as if he was smiling whilst stroking his beard. The sword he held in his right hand was gleaming, stained with fresh blood.
In spite of all that, the aura being exuded by his standing body was still that of the God of War who was strategizing and giving commands in the marshal tent!