Eastern Han Dynasty, not the Three Kingdoms

The Gobi Desert in Longxi resembled a boiling sea of ​​blood under the setting sun. The black horse under Gu Tu's steed trampled the scorched earth, its hooves sending up sparks. He lifted the head of a white-haired old woman with his scimitar. The jingling of silver ornaments dangling from her braid mingled with the distant cries of children, forming a Shura melody. Behind him, Di cavalrymen, whipping their whips wrapped in human skin, drove ox carts loaded with women and children toward the camp. The crunch of wheels grinding over dry bones startled circling vultures.

"The Han people always say, 'Before the troops move, the food must go first.'" Gu Tu threw the remaining sheep bones at the burning granary. The mare's milk from the wineskin mingled with blood and seeped into the sand. "Tell the Tieya tribe to disguise themselves as a merchant caravan and sneak into the Longxi granary tomorrow—by the time they realize it, the Di people's eagle flag will have been hoisted on the city walls!" He wiped the clotted blood from his beard. The Taotie pattern on his bronze wristband cast a ferocious shadow in the firelight.

On the top of Longxi City Wall, Dong Huang stared at the black smoke rising thirty miles away, his Adam's apple rolling. The scouts sent out three days ago hadn't returned yet, and the arrow quivers in the arrow tower were empty. Even more terrifying, the wells outside the city had been poisoned one after another, and even the war horses were so anxious that they refused to drink. "Report! Di cavalry have appeared in Qingshi Gorge!" The messenger had barely finished his words when the thunderous sound of horse hooves suddenly echoed from the northwest. A faint eagle-shaped battle flag could be seen in the rising dust—a common Di tactic of making a feint to the east and attacking in the west.

Over Longxi City, the setting sun shone like blood. Xu Huang, who had arrived first, gazed at the smoke of war outside the city walls. Furious, he lashed his whip against the battlements. The clanging of armor startled the crows perched on the battlements. "I will lead my troops to Qingshi Gorge. Today, we must put these cunning enemies to shame!"

Dong Huang gazed at the devastated outskirts of the city and sighed deeply, his voice filled with fatigue and resignation. "General Xu, you don't know, but these Di people are known for their ability to conceal their whereabouts. They specifically raid villages and towns, leaving no one alive in their wake. By the time we receive the news and lead our troops there, there's often only rubble left." He pointed to the still-smoking village in the distance, where the bodies of civilians lay scattered among the charred beams. "It's always like this. Without even a single informant, we can't catch up to them."

Xu Huang's veins bulged as he yanked on the reins, his horse's hooves raised high. "Are we just going to stand by and watch them slaughter the people of Longxi? The king has sent word, and they'll be arriving soon. If we do nothing, how can we explain ourselves to the king? Who can withstand the king's wrath when they witness this devastating scene?"

Dong Huang smiled bitterly and shook his head, his hand clenching the hilt of the sword at his waist, his palm already white. "Ever since the Di people invaded, the villages outside the city have been repeatedly ravaged. They not only stole cattle and sheep, but also spared no one, young or old. I led light cavalry in pursuit many times, but they were like quicksand in the desert, disappearing without a trace the moment I touched them." He looked at the dust and smoke looming in the distance, his eyes filled with anxiety. "Right now, Longxi's troops are empty, and we can't figure out the enemy's movements. It's really difficult to deal with them!"

Xu Shu, standing nearby, frowned as he silently unfolded a sheepskin map, marking the locations of recent attacks. A gust of sand swept over the three men's heads, sweeping their unfinished words into the twilight. Only the sound of the horn from the city wall echoed lingeringly over the devastated land of Longxi.

The cold wind from Qingshi Gorge blew in, carrying the stench of blood. Xu Huang's iron spear plunged fiercely into the scorched earth, shaking off the grains of sand that had gathered on the tassel. The village before him had become a living hell—among the shattered walls, scattered farm tools gleamed coldly in the pool of blood. Iron pots half-buried in the ashes still emitted smoke, clearly showing that even the last necessities of life had been plundered.

"We're late again!" Xu Huang roared, his warhorse's front hooves raised high, nearly crushing the huddled corpse of a child. The bodies of more than a dozen young girls lay beneath the old locust tree at the village entrance, their clothes disheveled and grimacing, making the air thick and oppressive. Farther away, a white-haired old man was nailed to the broken wooden door, his hand tightly gripping a half-broken sickle—his last weapon against the jackals.

Dong Huang's Adam's apple rolled with difficulty as he surveyed the devastation. In the looted granary, not even the bran left for livestock was left. In the collapsed stable, the bodies of several skinny horses lay in a pool of blood, their necks swirling with wounds, evidently having been slit. "These beasts!" Xu Huang suddenly reined in his horse and turned toward Dong Huang, his red eyes threatening to spit fire. "They even took the farm tools and iron pots. Such greed is truly unscrupulous!"

He yanked off his cloak, covering a naked female corpse not far away. His bronze wrist guards clanged against the saddle with a dull thud. "I've never seen such a tragic scene in my entire military career!" The thud of his horse's hooves over the rubble startled a flock of crows pecking at the carrion. Their caws echoed over the deadly village, adding a touch of mournful intensity. Xu Huang gripped the long sword at his waist, the blade unsheathed three inches, its cold light reflecting off his face, twisted with anger. "If I don't avenge this, I, Xu Huang, will cease to be a man!"

In a hidden valley, dozens of bonfires dyed the night sky an eerie crimson. Bare-chested Di warriors danced around the flames, their scimitars drawing cold arcs of light in the flames, their harsh shouts shattering against the steep cliffs. Grease dripped from the grills into the fire, and the rising smoke, tinged with the aroma of burning and the smell of blood, mingled with the suppressed sobs of women, swirled and tangled in the night wind.

On the cart frame, a whole roasted lamb sizzled on a spit, its fat drizzling down the charred hide. Lonely Tu drank kumis, the mixture of wine and meat juices dripping down his brown-red beard, leaving dark stains on the lapels of his hide. He casually pulled off a still-dripping lamb rib, the sound of the bone snapping startling the woman huddled beside him and shaking her whole body.

"Great Chief! Please listen to the oracle!" The black-robed high priest suddenly opened his clothes, revealing a chest covered in tattoos—a hawk with an arrow piercing its heart. He stumbled to the fire, his eyes beneath his bronze mask casting a strange white shadow, and his withered finger pointed northwest: "Last night the stars moved in reverse, with Mars in the heart! The seventh star of the Big Dipper is dim, foreshadowing that our horses will soon step into the blood abyss!"

Gu Tu kicked over a wooden bowl filled with wine, spilling it onto the corner of the high priest's robe, igniting a faint blue flame. But the old priest seemed oblivious. Instead, he leaned his face close to the leaping flames, wisps of white smoke seeping from the cracks in his mask: "The land of Longxi is awakening, and the countless souls underground are wailing! They say—" He suddenly lowered his voice, a hissing sound like a snake spitting out its tongue, "When the sound of horse hooves startles the night owl for the ninth time, the blood moon will devour the last ray of sunset, and our warriors will fall on the treasures they have plundered, and even their souls will find no peace!"

A sudden mountain wind whipped past, carrying a whistling dust storm, causing the campfire to flicker. The high priest's withered hands suddenly grasped Gu Tu's ankles, his nails digging deep into his flesh. "Stop! The cattle and sheep we've robbed these days are enough to keep the tribe going for several winters, but if we get stained with Han blood again..." He flung open his black robe, revealing a rosary of human bones wrapped around his waist. Cursed runes were engraved on each joint. "The wrath of the gods will burn us to ashes!"

Gu Tu suddenly burst into a thunderous laughter, grabbed the high priest's white hair, and pressed his face into the fire: "I only trust the scimitar in my hand!" Sparks splashed on the high priest's wrinkled face, burning black holes. "Tomorrow, rob three more villages! Let the people of Xiliang know that the Di people's scimitars will never be satisfied!"

The high priest was pressed against the fire, the flames from his black robe burning across his neck, and he howled in pain like a dying wolf: "Are you crazy? Have you forgotten the bravery of General Shenwei Tian of Xiliang? His cavalry has crushed the dreams of countless grassland tribes. You are going to drag your people into an endless abyss!" The smell of burnt flesh mixed with thick smoke rose up, and his twisted face looked hideous in the firelight.

Gu Tu kicked the man to the ground, slapping his wine bag against his palm with a dull thud. "If the Great Xianbei King Kebi of the grasslands could have sent a messenger himself, Ma Chao would have perished in the chaos of the Chang'an army!" He suddenly unsheathed his scimitar, its icy light touching the high priest's trembling Adam's apple. "Old Ma Teng withdrew 70% of Xiliang's troops in his vengeance. Now Longxi is just a hollow shell. What can he do to stop me?"

"The tens of thousands of cavalrymen of the Western Qiang King Cheliji!" The high priest suddenly broke free from his restraints and pointed his bloodstained finger toward the sky. "Are you not afraid of Cheliji's tens of thousands of Western Qiang troops? His iron hooves can crush us into pulp at any moment!" The smell of burnt flesh mixed with thick smoke rose in the air. His bloodshot eyes stared at Gu Tu, like the final wail of a trapped beast.

Gu Tu kicked the man to the ground, slapping his wine bag against his palm with a dull thud. "What King of Western Qiang? He's nothing but a coward who abandoned the grasslands!" He suddenly unsheathed his scimitar, its cold light touching the high priest's trembling Adam's apple. "Once the old Qiang King is dead, that young man will lead the Western Qiang to join the Han people and become a running dog licking the Han horse manure!"

Sparks splashed on the high priest's blood-stained white hair, but he struggled to stand up: "But the Western Qiang Iron Cavalry..." Before he could finish his words, he was interrupted by Gu Tu's wild laughter.

"Right now, the Jie tribe is engaged in a bloody battle with the Western Qiang!" Gu Tu swung his sword and chopped off the wooden stake beside him. As sawdust flew, he sneered, "This Han lackey can barely protect himself, how can he spare the energy to take care of us? Pass the order down, and continue the looting tomorrow!" Then he smashed the wine bag against the rock wall. The crackling sound startled a night owl nestling in the crevice, and its sharp cry pierced the dark night. Not far away, a Han woman chained in iron chains was huddled together, witnessing this crazy conversation.

The crackling bonfire in the valley illuminated the distorted features of the lone bald man. He let out waves of sickening, lewd laughter, his crimson eyes fixed on the Han woman trembling beside the chains. In the moonlight, the woman's pale face was breathtakingly beautiful, yet like a hook, it drew out the most primal animal in the lone bald man's heart.

"Come here!" He pulled the beautiful woman toward him, his rough hands leaving purple marks on her delicate shoulders. She struggled desperately, her hair tangled around her face, but she couldn't break free from the iron-like grip. His wild boar-like mouth pressed down hard, spraying the woman's face with a foul breath, a mixture of alcohol and blood.

Despair and humiliation surged within the woman. She suddenly bit down on Gu Tu's ear, her sharp teeth sinking deep into her flesh. "Ah—" Gu Tu cried out in agony, throwing the woman away. Blood streamed down his cheek, dripping onto the woman's naked body. Furious, he drew the scimitar from his waist. With a flash of cold light, a bloody gash appeared on the woman's slender neck.

Warm blood gushed out, splashing onto Gu Tu's greasy face. But this did nothing to quench his lust; instead, it intensified his madness. He raged like a wild beast against the woman's still-warm body. The bonfire cast their shadows on the rock face, twisting and hideous.

After finishing, Gu Tu wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and grinned at the soldiers beside him who had been salivating over her for a long time: "This beauty is still hot, don't be polite, come on!" The bestial laughter suddenly resounded throughout the valley, and that beautiful body was forever frozen under the sinful moonlight.