Dual Transmigration: Starting from being captured and brought to the Hehuan Sect!

A muffled thud.

The dense barrage of marbles blasted him away.

He fell to the ground, glanced down at the numerous small holes gushing blood from his chest, his body went limp, and he lay back on the riverbank.

He had fought for most of his life, from the grasslands to the capital, and had never lost so humiliatingly.

The enemy never drew their swords from beginning to end; he didn't even get a clear look at his opponents before 12,000 men were wiped out.

The remaining four thousand Tartar infantrymen collapsed instantly when they saw that their leaders were all dead.

He threw down the knife and turned to flee towards the riverbank.

But the armored battalion had already completed its flanking maneuver, with more than a dozen modified armed off-road vehicles lined up in a row.

"Trying to run away?"

The armored battalion commander grabbed the walkie-talkie.

"Attention everyone! Seal off the riverbank! Don't let a single person out!"

The machine guns roared again, and several centurions who tried to break out from the flanks with their personal guards were shot down one by one on the riverbank by the machine gunners of the armored battalion, like rabbits.

The battle lasted only a little over an hour from start to finish.

Post-battle inventory revealed that the entire mixed force of 12,000 Tartars was annihilated, with nearly 2,000 captured.

When the news reached the north bank of the Yellow River, the main camp of the Tartars was deathly silent.

The Khan sat in his golden tent, listening to the scouts' trembling reports.

Of the 12,000 troops, not a single one returned.

The generals in the tent exchanged bewildered glances; some remained silent, while others were consumed by rage. A one-eyed commander slammed his fist on the table, the scabbard striking the surface with a deafening crash.

"Twelve thousand men! Not even one messenger has returned! Khmuda is utterly useless!"

The Khan's face was so dark it looked like it could drip water.

He now finally understood why none of the scouts near Hezhou Prefecture had returned!

He slowly raised his hand to stop the argument in the tent, his voice low and cold.

That's enough.

This Hezhou Prefecture is quite interesting; I've made a note of it.

However, it is not the time for a full-scale invasion to the south yet, as there are still the main forces of the Xia dynasty remaining on the south bank of the Yellow River that need to be dealt with.

"We need to first investigate Lianhai County thoroughly, then plan accordingly."

He waved his hand, dismissing the generals, and sat alone in the golden tent, gazing at the map of Hezhou Prefecture on the wall, his brows furrowed.

Jiangnan, the Empress's palace.

When Feng Wan slowly woke up, she found herself lying on the dragon bed in the palace.

The canopy overhead was newly embroidered in Jiangnan, with fine stitches, but it always felt like it lacked that familiar scent of the capital.

She stared at the top of the tent for a long time before slowly propping herself up and rubbing her still throbbing temples.

The female official standing by the bedside quickly stepped forward to help her up, her eyes still red, clearly having stayed by her side the whole time she was unconscious.

"How long have I been asleep?"

"Your Majesty, it lasted a full day and night."

The imperial physician said that you are suffering from excessive worry and fatigue, resulting in a deficiency of both qi and blood. If you don't get proper rest, I'm afraid...

The female official stopped mid-sentence and handed over the ginseng soup.

The Empress took the ginseng soup and sipped it. The warm, slightly bitter liquid slid down her throat, slightly dispelling the pent-up emotions in her chest.

She looked around the empty palace and suddenly felt that this Jiangnan garden, which had been temporarily converted into an imperial palace, was even more desolate than the magnificent imperial palace in the capital.

The court officials, all high-ranking and powerful, would argue fiercely in the imperial palace, each with their own agenda and selfish schemes.

The national treasury was already empty, the Tartars were pressing closer and closer, and every front was in dire need of help. Several batches of people were sent to Lianhai to capture Lin Mo, but none of them returned to report except for Chi Linglong.

She suddenly felt like she was holding up a boat with a huge hole in it, surrounded by endless seawater, and she didn't even have a decent plank in her hand.

Seeing that she had put down the ginseng soup, the female officer hesitated for a moment, then took out a newly delivered military report from her sleeve and presented it with both hands:

"Your Majesty, we have just received news of a victory from the front lines."

The Empress suddenly raised her head, snatched the military report, and her fingers trembled slightly as she unfolded it.

Since the Tartars took control of the area north of the Yellow River, the battle reports she received have become increasingly scathing, and the word "victory report" has not appeared on her desk for a long time.

However, when she saw what was written on it, she was stunned.

A mixed force of 12,000 Tartars was completely annihilated near the Yellow River within the territory of Hezhou Prefecture.

Two thousand cavalry, ten thousand infantry, and the commander leading the troops—not a single one escaped.

"It's him again?"

The Empress's voice carried a hint of disbelief.

She looked at it several times before finally looking away from the military newspaper, staring blankly at the gray sky outside the window, her expression shifting between joy and bitterness.

After a long while, she murmured to herself in a low voice, her tone tinged with self-mockery and helplessness:

"Are you loyal or treacherous?!"

After losing 12,000 men in Hezhou Prefecture, the Tartars finally learned their lesson.

Although the Khan was furious, he was not a fool.

He would never send troops to touch that Gate of Hell, which could make twelve thousand people disappear without a trace, before he had figured out its details.

He adjusted his strategy, designating Hezhou Prefecture and its surrounding areas as a restricted zone, strictly ordering all units to detour, and instead concentrating his forces to launch a fierce attack on the remaining main force of the Great Xia from the west.

The Tartar cavalry swept past Hezhou like a tide, heading south along the upper reaches of the Ji River, with counties and prefectures along the way surrendering without resistance.

Those rebels who originally claimed to be "acting on behalf of Heaven" were softer than anyone else in front of the Tartars' butcher's knife. Before the Tartars even reached the city, the flags on the city walls had already been changed. Some even took the initiative to open the city gates to welcome the Tartars into the city, turning themselves into "traitors" under the Tartars' command and helping the Tartars fight against the remnants of the Great Xia army.

In just one month, the Tartars' battle lines advanced to the north of the Yangtze River.

The territory of the Great Xia was compressed to only the small, prosperous area of ​​Jiangnan and the coastal area of ​​Hezhou Prefecture.

Throughout the entire Xia Dynasty, only two places still had the Xia character flag flying.

One was the area south of the Yangtze River, which the Empress was struggling to maintain, and the other was Hezhou Prefecture under Lin Mo's rule.

The Empress has not stepped out of the Imperial Study for a whole month.

Reports from the front lines kept arriving, one after another, detailing the fall of one place or another; each one felt like a knife twisting in her heart.

The local gentry in Jiangnan talked about sharing the nation's burdens, but when it came to actually taking out their money, they all cried poverty more pitifully than anyone else.

She finally understood that in this vast court, she was the only one capable of fighting, and the only one who could share her burdens was Lin Mo, whom she had tried to capture time and time again.

She slowly placed the battle report on the table, her voice hoarse and weary:

"Linglong, get ready, I'm going to Lianhai again."

"Lianhai?"

The lady-in-waiting standing nearby was so startled that she dropped her pen. Forgetting all decorum, she knelt down and repeatedly tried to dissuade her.

"Your Majesty, you must not!"

Bandits roam the roads, and Tartar scouts are everywhere. How can someone of your noble birth personally venture into such perilous territory!