Mongolian Army Camp.
When Zhelemie’s corpse was sent over, it was like a bolt of lightning that completely exploded within the entire Mongolian Army camp.
If—
Before, they still had hopes for Zhelemie’s bravery, thinking he might break out.
But unexpectedly, what greeted them was a corpse.
This was a huge blow to the morale of the entire Mongolian Army.
Zhelemie was not a nameless figure; his valor was acknowledged across the entire grassland.
Temujin had just arrived at the front lines, the war had just begun, and a general like Zhelemie was dead. This was a massive blow to everyone.
...
Inside the golden tent, it was so quiet that one could hear the slight crackling of the beef tallow torch burning.
Zhelemie’s mutilated corpse had been placed on a clean wool felt, scrubbed with clean water, and covered with a wolf skin symbolizing a warrior.
The arrow holes and knife scars were gruesome, but couldn’t hide the last fierce and unwilling expression on his face.
Bo’erlchu, Muqali, Subutai, and other core generals stood solemnly on either side, their faces livid, fists clenched until the joints turned white.
Temujin sat cross-legged on a wolf skin chair.
His gaze lingered on Zhelemie’s corpse for a long time, revealing no joy or sorrow on his face. His fingers lightly tapped his knee, a habit when he was extremely focused.
"Zhelemie, my mastiff, the wolf most capable of biting on the grassland... he is dead."
He raised his eyes, his gaze sweeping over every face in the tent, as sharp as a knife, "Died well!"
These three words were spat out, causing the air in the tent to suddenly freeze.
Several of the generals looked up suddenly, staring incredulously at the Khan.
Yet Temujin stood up, walked to Zhelemie’s corpse, bent down, and personally tucked the wolf skin with a rare solemnity.
"He died during the charge, pierced frontally by at least five crossbow arrows." Temujin straightened up, his voice raised a notch, "He didn’t turn tail and flee like a frightened yellow sheep, didn’t kneel on the ground to beg the enemy for life."
"His sword was nicked, his horse fell, so he used his chest to crash into the arrows of the Southern People!"
"This is the way a warrior of the Eternal Heaven should die!"
"Like a landslide, like a lightning strike, grand and magnificent!"
He turned around to face the generals, with no hint of retreat on his face: "We underestimated that brat of the Gu family."
"Assumed him young, assumed he relied on his ancestors’ reputation, assumed the Southern Dynasty had grown complacent, that their knives had rusted."
"Zhelemie used his life to tell us we were wrong."
"Gu Yan is not just a turtle capable of defending a city. He is a hunter capable of anticipating our moves and laying iron spikes as traps."
"In this battle, we lost because of underestimation."
In saying this, Temujin showed no hint of embarrassment.
For a ruler, this was extremely rare.
It must be known, though he was saying we were wrong, it was actually because he, Genghis Khan, made the wrong decision, leading to this result.
Everyone understood this.
But Temujin showed no sign of disgrace.
This was his absolute confidence, his control over the entire grassland exceeding any generation of Khans!
Facing everyone’s gaze, Temujin walked back to his seat and sat down again, his gaze as sharp as ever: "But, can a hunter, no matter how clever, or a trap, no matter how sharp, trap one wolf, trap the entire pack?"
"Can it trap the lead wolf, guiding the pack’s direction?"
His gaze piercing, he looked at Bo’erlchu: "Zhelemie’s family, his tribesmen, from today, will be directly supported by my ordu."
"His son, upon coming of age, can preferentially choose the best pasture and spoils."
"His tribe will be exempt from all tributes for five years."
After speaking, he looked towards Muqali: "Have Zhelemie’s corpse cremated, his ashes scattered into the Orhon River."
"Tell everyone that his spirit will bless every warrior of the grassland with the holy water."
"The direction he charged in is where the Khan’s blade points!"
This series of actions instantly soothed the hearts of the people.
——Not merely simple political maneuvers.
What Temujin employed was far more than that.
This was honor!
He cloaked the battlefield death with a layer of honor.
In that moment, everyone present had their expressions change, and the once complex gazes regained their resolve.
"Gu Yan taught us a lesson," Temujin spoke again, his fingers unconsciously tracing in the air, "He made us realize we can no longer use the grassland methods for dealing with loose tribes against today’s Southern Dynasty."
"His frontline, with Dingzhou State as the hub, Zhending and Hejian as the flanks, a car formation of crossbow arrows as the bones, firearms as the teeth, and the rear villages and workshops as the flesh."
"Layer after layer, like an iron hedgehog, one that can see our movements."
He paused, his gaze growing increasingly profound, "But no matter how hard, a hedgehog has a belly."
"Its eyes are on its head, unable to see all directions."
"Pass the command." Temujin’s voice was as decisive as a nail being hammered in, without a trace of hesitation: "First, cease all assaults on stationary workshops, salt fields, large granaries."
"Those are the hard bones he hopes we run into."
"Second, Bo’erlchu, you lead ten thousand cavalry, divided into twenty teams, each with five hundred men."
"Don’t gather together, from tonight disperse completely, sweep through every place the Dingzhou State frontline flanks can gallop."
"Your task is not siege warfare, not looting large amounts of property."
"It is ’scouting’ and ’exhausting the enemy’."
"Remember——"
"Specially target their patrols during handover times, attack lone scouts;"
"Approach their camps late at night, shout and shoot arrows, ignite grass and then swiftly retreat;"