A family of loyal martyrs, starting with nine wives to continue the family line.

"Your Majesty, East Wind Valley is just ahead."

Liu Jingshuang reined in her horse, her long sword pressed against the side of the saddle, and spoke in a very low voice.

Wei Zhao looked up.

The Dongfeng Valley checkpoint is still there.

The last time he came here, this place was a battlefield where flesh and blood were ground together, the very edge of his blade as he led the eighteen rebel armies and the Wei family army toward the capital.

Back then, Lu Song was still sitting in the imperial carriage pretending to be the emperor, Wang Jing was still leading the new army to block the way, and Han Dashan and Zhou Laodao would slam their fists on the table and curse in their military tents, saying that as long as they captured the capital, everyone would have a good life.

What now?

Lu Song is dead.

Wang Jing is dead.

Han Dashan and Zhou Laodao have turned against each other.

Good times haven't arrived yet, and the world has already rotted even more.

Wei Zhao sat on his horse, his fingers on the reins, and suddenly felt like laughing.

This world is really a joke.

He led his men all the way into the capital in order to quell the chaos.

Before he could even warm the throne, rebel kings, cults, powerful families, and old officials all emerged.

It's as if they're afraid he'll be too idle.

"Let's rest for half a day," Wei Zhao said.

Liu Jingshuang nodded and immediately gave the order.

"Each camp enters the pass and takes turns eating. Horses must not be unsaddled, and armor must not be removed. Scouts should go thirty li ahead and if they encounter Holy Fire Sect spies, they need not be spared."

The military orders were passed down layer by layer.

The Wei family army acted swiftly, while the surrendered Imperial Guards were a step behind, but dared not delay.

An army of 100,000 men spread out in Dongfeng Valley, cooking fires were lit, and wounded soldiers' camps, grain carts, and military equipment carts entered the pass one after another.

Huo Qingluan squatted down under the gate wall and arranged stones on the ground to form a formation. Several military academy students surrounded her, listening without daring to lift their heads.

Wei Zhao stared for a long time before his irritation subsided somewhat.

The soldiers are still usable.

This is enough.

No matter how corrupt the world becomes, as long as the soldiers in his hands are not corrupt, he still has a weapon.

What I fear is not the number of enemies, but that my own side will fall apart first.

Zhao Qiniang walked to his side and handed him a military report that had just been delivered.

"Your Majesty, the vanguard of the Holy Flame Cult has already approached the outskirts of Golden City."

Wei Zhao took it, read two lines, and his eyelid twitched.

"million?"

Zhao Qiniang's voice tightened: "They claim to have a million. Those who can fight may not actually have a million, but when they bring the common people along, their momentum is even more frightening than a million."

Wei Zhao clutched the military report tightly, bit by bit.

The Holy Fire Cult is like pulling people out of the ground, binding them to wheels, and rolling them forward.

The land was left uncultivated, the village unguarded, children and the elderly followed the chaotic army, and women carried pots and tattered mats on the road to cook.

Today they're eating grain looted from the granaries, but what about tomorrow? The day after? Once all the grain in Yanzhou, Yuzhou, and Qingzhou is gone, how will these millions of people survive?

Relying on Zhang Yan's bowl of talisman water?

I fucking thanked him.

Wei Zhao handed the military report to Liu Jingshuang.

"We will break camp in half a day and head to the City of Gold."

Liu Jingshuang raised her eyes: "Not one more night's rest?"

"endlessly."

Wei Zhao said, "If we rest for another night, dozens more villages will be taken away."

He knew the soldiers were tired.

They marched swiftly from the capital to Dongfeng Valley, and then pressed on towards Golden City. The 100,000-strong army was not made of iron.

People need to eat, horses need to breathe, the armor rubs against their shoulders until they bleed, and many newly recruited surrendered soldiers have blisters on the soles of their feet.

But the Holy Fire Cult won't wait for him.

This thing isn't an army; it's a disaster that keeps rolling in.

The longer it drags on, the bigger it gets. Today it's a million, tomorrow it could be two million.

In another half month, all the northern prefectures and counties will be drawn in. When the five major foreign tribes hear of the internal strife in the Central Plains, the cavalry of the Northern Rong and Eastern Hu will probably not even have time to wait for the winter grass and will turn around and head south.

By then, the Central Plains will truly be beyond saving.

It's not that the Xinwu Dynasty is beyond saving.

The people of this land are beyond saving.

Wei Zhao was no saint, and he had no interest in constantly talking about the common people.

But after fighting for so long, so many of his family soldiers and brothers have died, and the old lady's coffin has only just been placed in the ancestral hall.

He couldn't just stand by and watch all that blood flow in vain.

Half a day later.

The drums sounded.

The 100,000-strong army broke camp once again.

Dongfeng Valley receded further and further behind, while the outline of Golden City gradually emerged in front.

Wei Zhao rode at the very front, not wearing heavy armor, but only a white robe with a plain cloak over it.

Before evening, we arrived at the Golden City.

Wei Zhao reined in his horse and stopped it on a high slope outside the city, remaining silent for a long time.

He knew this city all too well.

Back then, the eighteen rebel armies gathered here.

At that time, leaders from all directions brought their troops to support him in capturing the Golden City.

Campfires were lit one after another. Han Dashan patted his chest and said that his men were the best fighters. Zhou Laodao carried a wine jar and cursed Lu Song's ancestors for eighteen generations. Li Huai hugged the account book and huddled in a corner calculating the grain. Zhao Qiniang led the people of Baihe Village to sharpen their knives under the city wall.

Even though things were chaotic back then, at least everyone had a common enemy.

Now that we're back in this place, the enemy has changed.

Some enemies have even sat at the same table.

Wei Zhao couldn't quite describe the feeling in his heart.

You really can't think too much about human nature. If you do, you'll just want to kill someone.

"His Majesty."

Huo Qingluan stood beside him, pointing into the distance: "They've arrived."

Wei Zhao followed her hand and looked down.

Outside the Golden City, a dense crowd stretched across the horizon.

It's not a military formation.

It was at least not a normal military formation.

At the front were men carrying knives, men wielding wooden spears, deserters in tattered armor, and strong young men carrying hoes and machetes.

Further on, there were women pushing carts, elderly people carrying children on their backs, migrants leading thin horses, and tenants carrying cooking pots and stoves.

Yellow, red, and black cloths were tied to their foreheads, and the Olympic torch flags were erected one after another, looking like a chaotic fire from a distance.

Zhao Qiniang's face was very pale: "Your Majesty, look behind them."

Wei Zhao saw it.

The villages were deserted where the Holy Fire Cult members passed through.

The field ridges were trampled and broken, the courtyard gate was dismantled and used as firewood, broken buckets were left by the well, and smoke was still rising from several places.

An elderly person lay collapsed by the roadside, and no one came to collect the body.

A half-collapsed wooden signpost at the village entrance hung there, with white banners still burning on it.

Nine out of ten houses are empty.

These four characters were previously only used in official reports.

Now it's right in front of me, so ugly it makes me want to vomit.

If an uprising is merely about killing corrupt officials, opening granaries, and forcing the court to reform, then Wei Zhao would be willing to separate the common people from the main target group.

But what we're seeing now is no longer an uprising.

This is destroying the very foundation.

Fields were left uncultivated, houses were left uninhabited, livestock were eaten, grain was boiled, villages and communes were demolished, and the county government office was burned down.

Zhang Yan led these people toward the capital, making a grand entrance, but with every step he took, he was digging up the very foundation of the world to burn as firewood.

Once the fire is extinguished, all that will be left is white ground.

The Yellow Turban Rebellion was nothing more than this.

No, it could be worse.

Because the Great Wei had just been ravaged by Lu Song, and its borders had been devoured by the five major foreign tribes.

If this fire is not extinguished now, the Central Plains will be completely exposed.

When the Northern Rong cavalry marches south, the Eastern Hu archers enter the pass, and the Southern Barbarians and Western Qiang take another bite from the border, those opportunists in Xianyuan will also have to settle scores again.

The external threats that Wei Zhao had finally managed to suppress will be unleashed by this internal strife.

That's not something that can be resolved in just one dynasty.

It was the decline of Han territory.

Wei Zhao slowly tightened his grip on the horsewhip.

This battle must be fought.

And it has to be fast.

Every day we delay, the world deteriorates a little more.

We can talk about benevolence and righteousness, and we can talk about appeasement, but we must first stop the Holy Fire Church, this man-crushing vehicle.

If the car doesn't stop, no one can save it.

The five alien races, whose conflict had just been quelled, are very likely to reignite the war.

If the Central Plains fall completely, then everything will be destroyed!