A kill ratio of 850 to 2 shouldn't come as a surprise.
That kind of ratio had occasionally held true in the wars between the imperial court and the barbarians as well. It had once been perfectly normal for one or two hundred tribesmen to chase several thousand imperial soldiers across the field.
Just because the roles were now reversed was no reason to find it unacceptable.
Well—Aguda genuinely could not accept it.
When his subordinates brought him the casualty report, he simply assumed they had lied about the enemy's numbers to escape punishment. The enemy were cavalry too; he had heard they were well-equipped, and fine, he could accept that much. But that still wasn't enough to explain a rout of his tribesmen.
What he could stomach was the idea that the enemy might be as strong as his own forces, or perhaps a little stronger. What he could not stomach was the idea that the enemy possessed the power to crush him outright.
"Your Majesty, I too suspect the men below have falsified the report. The enemy must have fielded at least two or three thousand, and their own casualties could not have been light."
Aguda nodded, his expression easing slightly. It was only a guess, but it sounded far more like the truth of the matter.
Aguda had led the charge through the passes more than a year ago and had long since adopted the Central Plains custom of declaring himself emperor—which was why everyone now addressed him as Your Majesty.
The man who had spoken was Han Chinese. Aguda knew well that steppe warriors had no talent for governance, so he had made a show of broad-mindedness by taking on a large number of Han officials.
"Since ten thousand men can't catch these little rats, send twenty thousand more!"
"Whatever it takes, wipe them out before this winter is over—or at the very least drive them away!"
"We cannot allow these people to disrupt the spring planting!"
The harvest of the past year had left Aguda, a man of the grasslands, staggered by the astonishing bounty of the Central Plains. The sheer volume of grain collected had left him so elated he could barely breathe.
Having tasted this prosperity, how could he ever bring himself to return to the bitter cold of the north?
So he dispatched two more of his generals, at the head of twenty thousand troops, out of the capital.
Meanwhile, at White Tiger City.
"The master said that the White Tiger governs punishment, and since we've come to deal with the barbarians, this place shall be called White Tiger City."
The room was full of people. Mingxin sat in the seat of honor, having absorbed their master's manner to perfection—lounging lazily, one leg crossed over the other, foot bouncing without pause.
"My job is construction. Fighting is your business. We go home when the mission is done."
"Third Brother, how many barbarian heads so far?"
"Over sixteen hundred."
"Come on, you need to pick up the pace. The master wants ten thousand heads—enough to teach those barbarians a lesson. Drag it out too long and the deterrent effect won't be enough."
"Understood. We'll move faster."
"There's something else. We're a fair distance from Dragon City, and bringing large numbers of people out here is a real headache."
"So here's another task for you: go out and seize civilians. Bring their people and their households here to me."
"Second Brother, is that really right?"
"What do you mean, not right? What's wrong with it? Where's the problem?"
"I'm giving them a better life! I'm giving them hope!"
"You can be firm about it, of course—but if you run into someone who'd rather die than come, let them go."
"Use your heads. Don't just go charging in on brute strength alone. When you take a family, pay them one tael of silver per person based on household size—nursing infants included. Put their minds at ease."
"That way everyone comes out ahead, don't they?"
"Start by aiming for around three thousand people. Work out among yourselves how many each of you brings back."
"All right, it's noon and I need my beauty sleep. This wretched north wind has done terrible things to my skin. When I get back I'll have to sit down with Jinxiu and sort out a proper skincare regimen."
The remaining brothers exchanged helpless glances. Aside from a few particulars, Second Brother was the living image of their master—lazy, devoid of ambition, yet just as utterly unrestrained and unpredictable in everything he did.
"Let's do as Second Brother says. Speed up construction. In a few months, when our base is finally exposed to the barbarians' eyes, we'll give them the shock of their lives!"
The Wolf Army received its orders and moved out again.
A platoon of over thirty cavalry, accompanied by a dozen wagons and several dozen support troops, rode into a nearby village.
With a crash, a flimsy gate was kicked open. The family inside trembled with fright.
It feels like being the villain, he thought—but the Second Young Master had said that blunt force and a show of menace worked best. Overwhelming force tends to work wonders.
The man of the house was shaking, but behind him stood a wife and children even more helpless than himself. He had no choice but to steel himself and step forward.
"Gentlemen, there's still a little grain in the house. Let me fetch it for you."
"Conscription. Come with us."
"Yes."
So it's finally come to this. Once I leave, I'll probably never return—but if I refuse, my whole family will suffer.
"Bring everyone in the household. Bring everything."
The man was terrified. What was happening? Were women and children being sent to the front as well?
"How many people in the household?"
"Me, my mother, my wife, my ol—"
"Cut the crap. How many in total?"
"S-six. Six."
The Wolf soldier looked down, rummaged inside his armor, and produced six small silver ingots, pressing them into the man's hands. "Get your things together quickly. We'll be back shortly—whatever you haven't packed by then gets left behind!"
"And if you try to run, you know what happens!"
The man stared at the silver in his palm, completely bewildered. What on earth was going on? Conscripting the old and young, women and children alike—and then paying by the head?
He couldn't make sense of it. But since they'd already handed over the money, surely the outcome couldn't be all bad?
By the end of the morning, the Wolf soldiers had cleared out the entire village, taking every soul with them—including the relatively prosperous village head, though he seemed less than enthusiastic about the arrangement.
The elderly, young children, and pregnant women were loaded onto the wagons along with a portion of the households' belongings. These were ordinary villagers with few possessions; a dozen or so carts was more than enough to carry everything.
Half a day later, the group arrived outside the walls of White Tiger City, still under construction.
The villagers looked up at the towering cement walls and stood dumbstruck. Could walls so high actually exist in this world?
"Stop gawking. You'll have plenty of time to look later. Move along—it's suppertime, and don't hold up my meal!"
Several hundred villagers passed through the walls and were handed off to another group of people, who were considerably friendlier. They were shown to a three-story building.
A young woman said, "My surname is Sun. You can call me Captain Sun, Manager Sun—either is fine. If you need anything from here on, come and find me."
"You'll be assigned by household. Each household gets one unit—two bedrooms inside. If that's not enough, come see me and I'll make other arrangements. The building next door has three-bedroom units."
"The floors vary in height but the layouts are identical. Everyone has different floor preferences, so the heads of household will draw lots. Afterward, you're welcome to work out swaps among yourselves."
The frightened farmers didn't dare resist. They barely dared speak. They simply did as they were told, and found themselves quietly ushered into room after room.
"This place—it's really ours to live in?"
"There's a table, chairs, bedding?"
"Am I dreaming? Son, hit your dad once—let me see if this is a dream— *smack* —damn you, you actually hit me!"