Chapter 582

Both armies consisted solely of cavalry, making the battlefield a chaotic mess.

No defensive formations clashing or mixed infantry and cavalry tactics like hammer and anvil—just pure, chaotic melee.

If it were a war against the Westerners, the Ka`har could have unleashed one-sided attacks with their superior horsemanship and mounted archery. But against fellow Ka`har, retreating and firing arrows held little meaning.

The enemy could also shoot arrows from horseback, and unlike the retreating side, which had to turn around to shoot, they could aim straight ahead.

Thus, battles between the Ka`har inevitably turned into close-quarters combat between cavalry.

A brutal, savage fight where complex strategies had no place—everything hinged on the warriors’ skills and the commanders’ quick thinking. It was a frenzied melee, boiling with blood and madness.

“Enemy Army! Reorganize! Charge once more!”

Targien, Or-han’s first son, divided the Enemy Army into several Thousand-Man Units, sweeping across the battlefield, charging whenever the enemy’s flanks or rear were exposed, then retreating.

Sometimes allies were caught in the chaos, but the losses were minor compared to the gains from the charges.

“Blue Army, 3rd Thousand-Man Unit, retreat! Split the 4th Thousand-Man Unit to encircle the pursuing enemy! 1st Thousand-Man Unit, volley fire at the retreating Enemy Army’s rear! Hold them down!”

Unlike Targien’s aggressive command, Sahallyeon, the second son, moved his troops calmly, maintaining minimal command structure even in the chaos.

The contrast between Targien’s fiery temperament and Sahallyeon’s cold composure was stark.

“Hahaha! Is this all? You’re no different from cattle!”

The morale of the Ai-shan army was incomparable to the Tribal Alliance. Or-han’s warriors, pierced by spears and arrows, still swung their weapons with joyous laughter until their last breath.

Even after a warrior died, their warhorses would fiercely attack the enemy cavalry.

“Mad dogs…!”

“Just die already, you lunatics!”

The Tribal Alliance warriors, despite their overwhelming numbers, felt an indescribable fear against the near-demonic fervor of the Ai-shan. It was like fighting an army of evil spirits.

Perhaps that’s why the tide of battle slowly, steadily shifted in favor of the Ai-shan.

The Tribal Alliance tried to use their numerical advantage to encircle the Ai-shan, but trapping the Ai-shan’s paladins, who wielded the Unity of Man and Horse Technique, was impossible.

The horsemanship developed by Ha-shal-leur in her youth, infusing warhorses with the Power of Feats, turned ordinary steeds into divine mounts. The Tribal Alliance warriors could only helplessly fall from their horses.

—

The decisive blow in the increasingly unfavorable melee came when Or-han, after a fierce battle, seized Adanmudur’s head.

His right arm, piercing through a wave of lightning, clawed into Adanmudur’s skull like a raptor’s talons.

“Your tricks are getting boring, Adanmudur. Did you think lightning could shatter mountains?”

A fierce killing intent flowed from Or-han’s wide eyes, like a wolf sinking its fangs into its prey’s neck.

“You… monster…!”

Gritting his teeth, Adanmudur tried with all his might to pry Or-han’s hand from his face with his remaining arm.

But whether he punched, clawed, or even summoned lightning to strike, Or-han’s Indestructible Body remained unscathed, relentlessly crushing his skull.

-Crunch!

The sound of his skull cracking was unmistakable.

“Gah, aah…!”

Adanmudur let out a pained groan. His axe was shattered, his warhorse cut in two by Or-han’s Crescent Moon Blade.

Another chieftain who had joined the fight was also reduced to a mangled corpse, his upper body blown away by Or-han’s strike, unable to pierce the Indestructible Body.

Or-han’s charred upper garment turned to ash and scattered. His body, unharmed after facing two heroes, was a testament to his superhuman prowess, worthy of the title Ser Khan.

“Khan!”

No one was left to save Adanmudur. His loyal guards charged to their deaths trying to save him, but Or-han’s forces blocked them, preventing any advance.

“You miscalculated. If you wanted to kill me, you should have hit and run, not charged head-on.”

Or-han pulled Adanmudur’s head closer, mocking his trembling eyes. A smile crept onto his lips. In decades, he had rarely felt such joy.

“Thank you for your foolishness, Adanmudur. You’ve made me Kagan!”

Or-han clenched his fist. The pressure was unbearable for human bone. With a sickening crunch, Adanmudur’s head burst like a tomato.

An eyeball, torn out by the pressure, flew into the air, trailing optic nerves, while crushed brain matter oozed between Or-han’s fingers. A pitiful end for the great chieftain of the Tribal Alliance.

“Adanmudur, my lord-!”

“You bastard, Or-haaaan!”

Adanmudur’s guards screamed in rage at their lord’s brutal death. Or-han turned his gaze to them, his face still that of a hungry wolf after devouring two heroes.

“Do you have business with this trash? Then take it!”

Or-han shook off the gore from his hand, grabbed Adanmudur’s convulsing corpse by the ankle, and swung it at them.

A human corpse in armor was no different from a steel bludgeon.

The corpse-mace struck the guards, sending them flying in a spray of blood and flesh, like slaves thrown against rocks.

Screams and wails echoed like a macabre symphony.

—

“Our victory! Sing the songs of triumph! Let them reach the far ends of the Great Plains!”

“Long live Ser Khan! Long live Ai-shan Gi-or!”

“Long live Kagan Or-haaaan!”

The victorious Ai-shan warriors, bandaging their wounds with torn cloth, shouted in jubilation. The battlefield, filled with glorious light, was a scene of intense pleasure, far surpassing mere plunder.

The clash of the Ka`har’s two great forces ended in a victory for the Ai-shan. With the Tribal Alliance’s leader, Adanmudur, slain, no warrior could stop Or-han.

Some tribes, seeing the tide turn, attempted to desert or even betray the alliance, sealing their defeat.

Or-han rampaged until he could no longer maintain his Indestructible Body, leaving the Tribal Alliance warriors to choose between surrender or annihilation.

The result was the same either way. Or-han showed mercy to those who surrendered before Adanmudur’s death, but executed all who surrendered after.

Those who only surrendered when annihilation was certain were too rebellious to be spared. It was more efficient to kill them all and turn their deaths into feats for his warriors.

The few surrenders he accepted were only because the Ai-shan had also suffered heavy losses. Otherwise, not a single warrior would have been spared.

As the sun began to set, the grasslands, littered with tens of thousands of corpses, glowed a vivid red, soaked in blood.

To commemorate the great victory, Or-han named the plains “Purugiyan-Aihuma,” meaning “Red Turtle.” The mounds of corpses resembled a turtle’s shell, making it a fitting name.

—

After annihilating the Tribal Alliance’s warriors, Or-han discarded the title of Ser Khan and declared himself Kagan of Kagans—the supreme leader.

The Ka`har, divided and warring for centuries, were finally unified under one banner. Even Or-han must have been moved.

After regrouping his forces and returning to Ordos, Or-han tasked Sahallyeon with stabilizing the eastern territories with four thousand Blue Army troops. With all warriors either dead or subdued, the east was now Ai-shan territory.

It was time to extract oaths of loyalty from the tribes, now left with only women, children, and the elderly, and integrate them as citizens.

Targien was somewhat dissatisfied that such a responsibility wasn’t given to him, the eldest son, but Sahallyeon was clearly the better choice. Targien would have trampled them without a second thought.

If the goal was to enslave the eastern tribes, that would be one thing, but since the decision was to accept them as part of the Golden Nation—Ai-shan Gurun—charging in with spears and swords wasn’t the right approach.

Thus, Sahallyeon led four thousand Blue Army troops eastward. The remaining forces dispersed across Ai-shan territory to recover from the battle and prepare for the next war.

The war on the Great Plains was over. Though sporadic resistance from retreating tribes would continue, it would be futile against four thousand Blue Army troops. Now, it was time to seek new enemies.

The West awaited them.