Chapter 655: The Gathering of Foreign Powers!
Translated by: Hypersheep325
Edited by: Michyrr
In the lands of Youzhou to the northeast, King Micheon of Goguryeo was one of the top priorities on Zhang Shougui’s kill list. This King Micheon had dealt him many a setback on the battlefield.
Unlike the other kings, King Micheon had four long sabers. Normally, however, he only used one saber when fighting an enemy. In a large-scale battle, he would use two sabers. As for a third saber… as of yet, no one had been able to force him to use his third saber.
King Micheon was cruel and bloodthirsty, completely unlike the spymaster King Sosurim, who delighted in concealing himself.
In the fierce confines of the battlefield, he was an insane machine, growing stronger the more he killed, immersing himself deeper and deeper into the battle. It was rumored that he had a habit of using human blood to brew fine wine that he would guzzle down.
And King Micheon never cared about his own life!
His only enjoyments in life were intense and frenzied battle and the thick stench of death that covered the battlefield. The ‘cheon’ of ‘King Micheon’ did not mean a river of water, but a flood of blood washing over the world.
In the southwestern war, more than four hundred thousand Mengshe–Ü-Tsang warriors and more than one hundred thousand Tang warriors had died in battle.
When King Micheon heard of this matter, he immediately volunteered to venture into the Tang interior to investigate the southwestern battlefield.
“In addition, with regards to His Majesty’s mission, who said that I wasn’t investigating?”
His eyes half-closed, King Micheon raised his intoxicated nose and sniffed at the air. Suddenly, he made a flying leap. Swooshswooshswoosh! Moving like a ghost, he arrived at the southeastern edge of the summit in mere moments.
“Hahaha, what a thick stench of blood! On this entire battlefield, I can only smell the scent of one living person. None other than a person slaughtering to their heart’s content! How many people did this person kill? Five thousand, six thousand? No, it is exactly eleven thousand and eighty-seven people! How formidable!”
King Micheon raised his head and madly laughed.
If Wang Chong were here, he would definitely be stunned. Because the place King Micheon was speaking from was exactly where the southeastern lines had been broken and he alone had killed more than ten thousand Mengshe Zhao and Tibetan soldiers.
The battle was already over, the corpses buried.
But King Micheon had only sniffed the air to learn the exact number of people Wang Chong had killed. Probably not even Wang Chong knew this number.
“Milord, are you saying that one person killed ten thousand people here?”
A figure jumped out of the rear to arrive at King Micheon’s side, looking at the vacant surroundings in alarm.
“Hahaha, this is a comrade! Inconceivable physical strength and an inconceivable internal energy! And also an inconceivable fighting and killing intent!”
King Micheon paid no attention to his guard, his voice growing more and more excited.
“That’s right, I also smelled a very unique blood. It was restless blood, like it was on fire…”
With these last words, King Micheon seemed to wake from a stupor. A contemplative expression quickly appeared on his face.
“I hear that in the capital of the Great Tang, the Berserker Syndrome runs through the lineage of the Wang Clan. Once the Berserker Syndrome breaks out, the blood will begin to boil, the victim falling into a mad slaughter that can’t distinguish friend from foe. Could this be the result of the Berserker Syndrome?”
King Micheon began to get more and more excited.
“I didn’t think that I would be so lucky as to smell the blood of a warrior with Berserker Syndrome! It’s simply sublime! This is the true blood of slaughter, and the strength was so long-lasting that they managed to kill ten thousand people! How wonderful would it be if I could get my hands on this blood!
“But I heard that the Berserker Syndrome skipped generations, and it would only affect one person per generation. The inheritor of this condition for this generation of the Wang Clan is called Wang Bei, and he’s currently imprisoned in the prison within the Imperial Palace. How could the Berserker Syndrome appear here?”
King Micheon’s smile faded as he narrowed his eyes in thought. After a few moments, he suddenly gave a chuckle of understanding.
“Tulin, this is where you come in. Inform His Majesty that the youngest son of the Wang Clan also has Berserker Syndrome. Two people with Berserker Syndrome have appeared in a single generation! Interesting, interesting!”
The Goguryeon warrior called Tulin standing behind him was dumbfounded. But King Micheon was still speaking.
“However, Berserker Syndrome is known for being able to warp one’s will and cause the patient to kill both friend and foe. It seems like this youngest son of the Wang Clan was constantly killing, but he only killed Mengshe Zhao and Tibetan soldiers. This self-control is truly astonishing!”
An error of a hair would lead to a discrepancy of one thousand li. Although the Berserker Syndrome bestowed incredible strength on a warrior, once one lost control and turned the other direction, it would have been ten thousand soldiers of the Annan Protectorate army dying to Wang Chong’s sword.
Swords did not discriminate among those they killed, including people on one’s own side.
But across this region of the battlefield, King Micheon could not smell the blood of any Tang soldier. Not just anyone could control themselves so well.
“What a troublesome character!”
King Micheon muttered to himself for a while, his pupils constricting as he began to understand the difficulties he faced.
“This is so upsetting! You can kill people like flies, so why control yourself?”
Undeniable envy surfaced on King Micheon’s face. If he possessed such a powerful bloodline ability, it would be a match made in heaven.
Alas, this boy owned this powerful strength yet insisted on controlling it. This fact was extremely upsetting to the bloodthirsty King Micheon.
Buzz!
As he was speaking, his mind was suddenly given a jolt. A powerful energy had appeared in King Micheon’s perception. His voice came to a halt as he fiercely turned his head in the direction of the energy.
At the base of the mountain, figures dressed in black merchant-like clothes were currently inspecting something, their heads lowered.
The leader of this group also sensed something. Raising his head, he glanced up at the place King Micheon was standing. Their gazes met in the air like two bolts of electricity clashing. But then they mutually looked away as if nothing had happened at all.
“Hmph, it seems like the Turks have arrived,” King Micheon sneered. Although they were separated by a significant distance, King Micheon had immediately noticed the high nasal bridge so emblematic of the Turks.
The lands of Youzhou in the Great Tang’s northeast possessed a very complicated geography. The Turks, Khitans, Xi, Great Tang, and Goguryeo were all mixed together in this place. From a certain perspective, the three powers besides Goguryeo and the Great Tang should have been natural allies, but in private, all of them viewed the rest with contempt.
King Micheon shared the same view.
“Your Highness, do we need to give them a greeting?” the Goguryeon guard Tulin asked.
“Hmph, what sort of greeting could we give them? And besides, do you think you’re a match for them?”
From King Micheon’s vantage point at the summit, he could see everything around him. It wasn’t merely one group that had arrived at the Mountain of God.
The Hu, the Goguryeons, the Turks, the people of the Western Regions, the Arabs, the Characenians… various sorts of people disguised as various occupations had all unintentionally arrived at nearly the same time.
In the southwestern war, an army of two hundred thousand had contended against the Mengshe–Ü-Tsang army of five hundred thousand, first losing and then winning, eventually slaying more than four hundred thousand enemy soldiers. This war had not only altered the structure of the southwest, but also the relationship of the Great Tang with the states that bordered it.
Those powers that had lurked on the border, ready to leap, began to retreat once they heard news that the Mengshe–Ü-Tsang alliance had been defeated.
To Mengshe Zhao and Ü-Tsang, defeat in this war meant the loss of the best chance to occupy the Great Tang’s southwest. To the other powers bordering the Great Tang, this defeat was the loss of a superb chance to join hands and drag down the Great Tang from the throne of hegemony that it had sat on for several centuries.
A centipede could die, but it would never fall over. Although the Great Tang was in decline and a shadow of its former self, the edge revealed by its army was still as sharp and frightening as ever.
……
“Lord Yabgu, it’s the Goguryeons,” whispered one of the Turks disguised as merchants at the base of the mountain.
“It’s King Micheon.”
The leading Turk was squatting on the ground and examining the surroundings.
The Turks and Goguryeons both bordered the Great Tang and usually had many dealings with each other. King Micheon was famous for his love of slaughter, and the energy on his body was recognizable even from a distance of several li.
No disguise could conceal it.
In addition, Goguryeons carried two or three sabers which were easily recognizable by their white cloth wrapping. To the people outside the Great Tang, such a trait was even more recognizable.
“Don’t worry about them. Time is limited. Once too many people gather, the Great Tang will quickly take notice,” the leading Turk ordered.
For this simple scouting mission, the Eastern Turks had actually sent out a Yabgu. This matter was very important for the Turks.
The Great Tang had actually managed to produce an elite commander who could lead an army in an outnumbered situation and defeat both Dalun Ruozan and Duan Gequan. No normal scout or spy would be enough to investigate such an important matter. Only a person with sufficient battlefield experience and wisdom would be able to identify the clues.
In addition, there was another important matter that needed to be answered. Even now, none of the foreign powers bordering the Great Tang, the Eastern and Western Turks included, knew how the Mengshe–Ü-Tsang army had lost.
Dalun Ruozan, Huoshu Huicang, and Duan Gequan were all renowned generals of the current age. With these three commanders and an absolute advantage in numbers, a defeat was nigh unthinkable.
This matter was like an enigma that troubled everyone’s mind. This was why, more than one month after the end of the war, the foreign powers around the Great Tang had dispatched people to investigate the situation.
“Let’s go!”
The Yabgu leading the group quickly stood up and set off with his group in another direction. Around fifteen minutes later, the group of Turks had walked the entire mountain, finally stopping in front of a massive pit.
“Is this where the King of Mengshe Zhao, Geluofeng, was heavily wounded…”
The black-clothed Yabgu squatted at the edge of the pit, his hand stroking the edge. He then raised his head and took stock of his surroundings.
Devastation surrounded the pit, signs of intense clashes scarring the landscape. These scars would be meaningless to an ordinary person, but an elite expert like this Turkic Yabgu saw them completely differently.
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1.The word 川, ‘chuan’ or ‘cheon’ as it would be pronounced in Korean, means a river or stream.↩
2. Yabgu is not a name, but a title. Its status was third in power in the Turkic Khaganate, beneath the Khagan and his heir.↩