Desert Eagle Suletan Khan

On November 9th, 1673 (the 30th year of the Qianyuan era), the weather in Udinsk was already quite cold. A north wind howled, carrying snowflakes, its sharp whistling cutting into faces. Dula Baladen and his eleven warriors of the Khori clan stood silently in the wind, like stone statues, motionless. They had lived here for generations, long accustomed to the local climate; what was a little snow and wind to them? Suddenly, a group of dark figures appeared in the snowstorm, growing closer and closer until the blurry figures on their warhorses could be vaguely seen.

"Anda, the Buryatb's men have arrived!" Harel excitedly told Dulabaladen. As the clan chief of the Hugdud clan, he had always fought alongside Dulabaladen, the clan chief of the Galajud clan, against the invasion of Tsarist Russia. Their repeated shared life and death experiences forged a deep friendship between the two, and they became sworn brothers.

"Hmm," Dula Baladen trembled slightly upon hearing this, suppressing the surging emotions within him as he gazed at the men and horses in the snowstorm. Although he looked down on Timur for abandoning his ancestral lands and seeking protection under the wing of the Kingdom of David, the Buryat people had found it difficult to communicate with the outside world since the Russian army stationed a large force at Chukubakhin. For years, they had been fighting alone, sometimes even forced to feign compliance with the brutal Russians. Only he knew how deeply he longed for reinforcements from the outside world.

David's third-ranking Buryat Timur came before him and gave him a big bear hug as soon as they met. "Dula Baladen Anda, I've missed you so much after all these years! May the Eternal God bless you, you are still as handsome as ever!"

"Where did you get your former glory? You've grown old. Over the years, you've exhausted your strength fighting to protect our ancestral lands and the Rakshasa demons. Your hair has turned completely white. Unlike you, Timur, who has settled in the territory of the Tushetu people and is living a leisurely life, still as young as before!" Dulabalden replied politely, but his words contained disdain and sarcasm.

Timur's face flushed red, and he stammered, "The Rakshasa devils are truly too ferocious. My grazing grounds were too close to their Barguzin Fortress, and I simply couldn't withstand them. I had no choice but to retreat to the grazing lands of the Tushetu tribe. Fortunately, we were taken in by the grace of Khan Lianhua, and our people have been able to live without worry about food and clothing. It's hard to leave our homeland. After leaving our ancestral lands, my people and I who migrated south have missed our homeland for a single day. In recent years, we have sent people every year to deliver supplies and weapons to our Buryat brothers who remained in our ancestral lands. I wonder if our sworn brother has received them."

"Hmph!" Timur snorted heavily. "We have indeed received things from you before, but in recent years we haven't seen even a single musket!"

"Oh dear, this is all because the Rakshasa devils blocked it too tightly. Their patrols patrolled Chuku Baixing and Wudi Baixing day and night, and our cavalry couldn't get through at all," Timur said with a smile. "Now it's all good. The Guards have captured Nerchinsk, and all kinds of supplies can be sent over continuously. Anda, look what His Highness the King of Chu sent you."

Timur's five hundred men unloaded the supplies carried by their warhorses: eight small cannons, two hundred axes, three hundred suits of armor, seven hundred muskets, one thousand swords, one thousand bows, two thousand spears, and a large quantity of other supplies. Most of these supplies were captured from the Russian army, but they were priceless treasures to the weapon-poor Buryat people. They had originally besieged Chukubashin but were repelled by the Russian army due to their inferior weaponry and retreated to Udibashin. How could they not be overjoyed to see these goods?

Dulabaldeng's expression immediately softened, and he laughed heartily, saying, "Timur's sworn brother, you've truly come to my aid! You must be tired from your long journey. Come with me to the camp to rest. I've prepared fine wine and roasted lamb. It's been so many years since we last met; I must drink to my heart's content with my sworn brother!"

The drinking was indeed enjoyable; the Buryat heroes drank almost from day to night. But when Timur pulled out the document from his robes—the document for the chiliarch of Dulabalden—Dulabalden's face immediately darkened. "I am the clan chief of the Galajud clan, the head of the thirteen clans of the Khorchin, while you are merely the clan chief of a minor clan. Why are you granted the title of earl, while I am only a chiliarch?"
Oranges grown south of the Huai River are sweet oranges, but those grown north of it are bitter oranges. Timur was originally very simple and honest, but after migrating to the territory of David, he spent his days dealing with the worldly officials and nobles of David. Over time, he naturally learned to read people's expressions and demeanor. Seeing this, he chuckled and said, "With your talent, you are qualified not only as a commander of a thousand, but also as a commander of a thousand or a ten-thousand. Before coming here, I strongly recommended you to His Highness the King of Chu. However, David is a nation founded on military strength, and there is a tradition of not awarding titles without military merit. Even the positions of deputy commander of a thousand and above must be appointed by the Great Khan. Therefore, His Highness the King of Chu can only appoint you as a commander of a thousand for now. However, His Highness has said, 'I have long heard that Dulabalden is a good man. Tell him to fight well and kill more Rakshasa devils. The court will not hesitate to reward him.'"

"Is this true? Does Your Highness know me?" Dulabalden asked.

"Your Highness is well aware that your esteemed leader, Anda, led the eleven clans of Khori in their fight against the Rakshasa," Timur said, glancing at Harel and the others standing beside Dulabaladen. His eyes darted around, and he chuckled dryly. "Not only you, but Harel and the other leaders are all known to His Highness. He also said he would report your achievements to the Great Khan and reward you accordingly." Timur, with his silver tongue, had completely won over the simple-minded leaders of the thirteen clans of Khori. What merit did they possess to have their names remembered by the esteemed Prince Chu? They felt respected and were eager to fight.

One Buryat tribe after another began to mobilize, and one group of warriors after another began to assemble. Even warriors from other indigenous tribes came to join them. Armed with weapons sent by the guards, the number of men under Dulabalden, Timur, and others reached four thousand.

"I've made my decision! We'll take Udynsk (Udinsk Fortress) as a gift for His Highness the King of Chu. Those who are brave, follow me to fight!" Dulabalden roared to his men. Newly appointed as a chiliarch, he was eager to prove himself and serve his country. However, the attack on Udynsk was not a spur-of-the-moment decision, but rather based on intelligence gathering. According to the intelligence, the garrison at Udynsk was far smaller than that at Chukubash, only a little over four hundred men, and only a little over a hundred of them were Rakshasa (Japanese devils), the rest being soldiers from local Tungusic tribes.

"Kill the Rakshasa demons! Follow the hero Dulabala to kill the Rakshasa demons!" the subordinates shouted excitedly, filled with unwavering confidence in victory.

The Buryat intelligence was correct; Udybakhin indeed had only 450 Russian troops, including 150 Cossacks and 300 native soldiers. However, Andrei Yakovlev, the governor of Udynsk Fortress, was a brave man. Facing the surging Buryat warriors, he loudly rallied his men: "The enemy may outnumber us, but they are merely barbarians lacking guns and cannons. They cannot breach the walls. Victory belongs to Russia, Hurrah!"

"Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!" the inspired soldiers shouted.

"Boom~boom~boom~"

"Bang~ Bang~ Bang~"

As soon as the battle began, the sound of gunfire from the Buryat army filled the defenders with despair. The enemy was not as lacking in guns and cannons as Yakovlev had said; they not only had a large number of muskets, but also small bronze cannons.

Faced with the Buryat warriors' relentless and desperate attack, the defenders collapsed on the fifth day. Some native soldiers opened the city gates to save their lives. Enraged, the Buryat warriors swarmed in, slaughtering Yakovlev and all the other Russian soldiers who refused to surrender inside the fortress. (End of Chapter)