Chapter 159: Oblivion

After the mountaineers' purging operations lasted for three whole days, the smoke of battle over Kapilavastu gradually dispersed. Guided by the local impoverished commoners, all the prominent and wealthy households in the city were thoroughly plundered. Such acts had long become second nature to the mountain folk; they remembered clearly what could be done and what was forbidden. Anyone who failed to remember was sent packing, barred from ever participating again, and subjected to the mockery of their kin—a fate far more agonizing than death itself.

One had only to look at the fate of the two hundred men who had fled during the siege: from then on, they would not even be able to hold their heads high in their home valleys. Should any of them wish to take a wife, they would be met with utter contempt—truly, it would be far better to simply slit their own throats for a clean end. With such a living example right before their eyes, who dared to slack off?

Wagonload after wagonload of wealth was hauled out of the city and dumped into the encampment outside the walls. The chieftains grinned from ear to ear; after all, this was the largest city in the entire Western Frontier, the ancestral domain of the Queen's clan, built up over a century, piled into a small mountain that towered even higher than the city ramparts.

The division of spoils is always a joyous occasion. Splitting everything evenly down the middle had been agreed upon beforehand. All items were gathered and sorted by category, then divided into two roughly equal portions. Even if one side got a bit more and the other a bit less, no one would raise a fuss. It was an atmosphere of universal celebration and cordial harmony.

The carnival lasted for three days. Both the Tang soldiers and the mountaineers had made a fortune. In any major battle, casualties were inevitable, but being able to divide such a substantial bounty—and to hold a tender, delicate-skinned woman of noble birth in one's arms for a night of slumber—made the fighting entirely worthwhile. One could not blame them for their low ideological awareness; the classic triad of seizing money, grain, and women remains, even in the twenty-first century, a supreme slogan capable of stirring any armchair warrior into action.

By the fourth day, order began to slowly recover. The bugles of the Tang military camp sounded precisely on the hour, prompting immediate mobilization. Drilling was a mandatory daily routine, yet Liu Ji had even increased the workload. Thus, amidst the curious onlookers of the mountaineers, these outsiders would sometimes form immaculate, fully armed battle formations, advancing and retreating with precision; at other times, stripped down to their bare skin, they would scale mountains, wade through rivers, and negotiate steep inclines. Every single training exercise was tailored specifically to the local terrain, making its purpose instantly clear to any observer.

Kang Fourth felt a twinge of envy toward his peers. It wasn't because they could claim women based on their battle merits—the young maiden in his own tent was second to none—but rather because the Garrison Commander seemed to have forgotten that Kang belonged to the Qiankeng Garrison, leaving him continuously in charge of the mountaineers. Yet what could be done? Finding someone who even knew a few words of the Khasa language was as rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns. Why on earth had he been so eager to show off back then?

Regret was useless now. A batch of men specifically detailed for this task had been handed over to him, equipped with simple Khasa commands. If they didn't understand, they were made to memorize them. And what were they memorizing them for?

To train this mob of undisciplined rabble.

The agreement struck between Liu Ji and the mountaineers remained a closely guarded secret, known to only a handful. Within the entire garrison, even the two Deputy Commanders, Zhang Wujia and Xu Guangjing, were kept in the dark. Kang Fourth was among the few insiders. This meant the Commander truly trusted him as a confidant. Therefore, envy aside, Kang Fourth understood what was at stake: the Commander held high hopes for him and pinned great expectations on this rabble.

Consequently, having witnessed the grueling training of the Tang soldiers, the mountaineers were immediately organized and subjected to dreary, monotonous drill. Building an army begins with forming ranks, and forming ranks begins with distinguishing left from right. Soon, the camp resounded with Kang's trademark booming voice, echoing across the surrounding fields.

"Left face! What is the left? Wherever the banner is, turn toward it! You don't know left from right, but surely you can recognize a flag, can't you? How can you even get that wrong?"

Liu Ji did not interfere with the training of men who were neither literate nor fluent in the Tang language; he simply wanted to see if they could devise a good method. As it turned out, there was no need for tricks like tying straw to one foot and hay to the other. The man on the absolute edge of each squad held a banner, and the position of the banner was the left—simple and direct.

Formation drilling was, at its core, a means to enforce discipline. Naturally, Kang Fourth cared nothing for whether physical punishment was involved or not. If a movement was out of place, the heavy stick in his hand would come down swinging. Make three mistakes, and the offender was dragged out for a beating, accompanied by a relentless torrent of verbal abuse that made one wish for death, completely disregarding the men's psychological endurance. It was utterly warlords' style.

At times, even Liu Ji found it hard to watch, but in the end, he said nothing. A political commissar—that ultimate weapon—was not even assigned to his own regular troops yet, let alone an auxiliary mercenary force.

Naturally, far from harboring resentment, the mountaineers involved accepted the methods with natural expressions. Didn't they see the Tang soldiers training even more harshly and still enduring it? To become a formidable army, taking a few beatings was nothing worth fussing over; it wasn't as if they were losing their lives. Everything is relative when compared to your peers.

After several days of such drills, the force finally began to resemble a real military unit. By the standards of this era, the ability to form ranks in battle and execute orders without hesitation gave them the shadow of a crack army. After a few more days of consolidation, they could conduct field marches to build physical endurance while further strengthening organization and cooperation, embedding regulations and commands deeply into everyone's minds. This was the standard process of a modern recruit training camp, and its scientific validity was beyond question.

Those who felt this transformation most acutely were the local Nepalese. Having watched a ferocious tiger-and-wolf army storm the city with an intimidating aura, everyone had braced themselves for a massacre. To their surprise, the soldiers merely plundered the wealthy estates and cleanly withdrew from the city, not even allowing commoners inside the gates.

Order gradually returned amidst this trembling atmosphere. Then, one day, a strange procession entered the city. It was called strange because the vast majority of its members were women. Under the escort of Tang soldiers, they took over the administration of the city. Many commoners who had shown active support were directly appointed to various managerial posts. Edicts began to issue from the new official offices, finally setting the citizens' minds at ease. It appeared the city had merely changed masters, and life would go on.

Of course, what delighted them the most was that with the elite households wiped out root and branch, all the debts they had previously owed were completely wiped clean. The new city lord announced this wonderful news through a public destruction ceremony in the city square, prompting the commoners to burst into their first genuine, heartfelt cheers since the war began.

This cheering also marked a clean break with the old ruling class. For the first time, Elsie Leia listened to the true voices of ordinary commoners, and for the first time, she felt that these lowly wretches, whom she would never have deigned to look at before, were not so difficult to get along with after all.

What Liu Ji had handed over to her was a city that had survived the apocalypse. Situated closer to Zhangzhong and serving as her mother's ancestral domain, with its upper crust completely swept away, it provided the perfect vacuum for the populace to find a new object of loyalty. Bolstered by the backing of the Tang forces, she quickly rose to become the supreme holder of authority in the city.

At the same time, owing to her striking resemblance to the late Queen, various whispered rumors inevitably began to spread.

The last surviving bloodline of the monarch, the new favorite of a powerful Tang commander, the woman of Mamunur...

All of this added a subtle layer of mystery to her ascent.

Elsie Leia quickly pushed aside the grief of losing her mother, throwing herself heart and soul into her new role. Now the Lady of Kala City and the Guardian of the Western Frontier, everything she possessed was a gift from a certain man. If there was still anything left to be desired, it was only one thing.

When, oh when, would she bear a child for her hero?