Chapter 32: The Smoke of War Rises Again

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The situation was unclear.

They claimed to have come to enlist.

Disciplined, they waited outside the city.

The garrison soldiers did not know whether to allow them in, so they sent a message back for instructions.

Before Yang Tian arrived in the Desolate City, the city gates were virtually unattended; for years, almost no soldiers had been assigned to guard them. It was Yang Tian who insisted on rotating soldiers for gate duty, even if it seemed a waste of manpower.

To develop, every aspect needed rebuilding.

Guarding the gates was essential.

"Send word and arrange for soldiers to bring them here. I want to meet them," Yang Tian ordered.

Chen Qinglin withdrew.

New recruits were always a blessing!

None should be turned away!

Yang Tian even hoped for thousands, tens of thousands, to come.

The Desolate City’s greatest challenge was population. Encouraging childbirth was a long-term plan, requiring time to nurture enough people—time for them to grow up—something he could not afford to wait decades for.

He could only seek solutions externally.

Attracting newcomers.

The sudden arrival of over a hundred people was wholly unexpected—after all, the Desolate City had nothing appealing at present.

It mattered little.

Whatever their intentions, anyone who came would contribute to the city, and Yang Tian would settle them in properly.

More than four hours later, the soldiers brought the group to the City Lord’s residence.

There were a hundred and thirty-some men.

All male.

Mostly middle-aged, with fewer young men or elders.

Their appearances bore countless scars—some grotesque, some missing an eye, others with an arm lost…

Judging from their bearing, most seemed to have been soldiers, seasoned by the battlefield.

"I am Yang Tian, City Lord of the Desolate City. On behalf of this city, I welcome you all," Yang Tian said sincerely.

The crowd regarded Yang Tian with curiosity.

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Their gazes were probing.

Then, an elder missing his left arm stepped forward, seemingly the spokesman.

"Are you the youngest son of the Champion Marquis?"

"I was, but there is no Champion Marquis now," Yang Tian replied, sensing something unusual.

"As the son of the Champion Marquis, why have you not sought to clear your father’s name?" the one-armed elder questioned coldly, his expression agitated.

Interesting.

Yang Tian observed the crowd; they seemed to care deeply about this.

"Have you come for my father? I thank you for believing in the Yang family. But are you here to denounce me?" Yang Tian responded with a question, not answering directly.

He was not angry. The fact that these people had traveled so far to the Desolate City surprised him, and he marveled at the Champion Marquis’s renown.

The one-armed elder grew more furious: "They say you advised the monarch to revoke the Champion Marquis’s title, surrendered all the Yang family’s possessions, just to save your own life?"

"So you truly came to chastise me; isn’t that making too much of it?" Yang Tian replied evasively.

Their conversation seemed mismatched, like two talking at cross purposes.

"Why did you come to the Desolate City? It’s hardly a good place."

"It seems you brought all your belongings—did your families not accompany you?"

"Do you plan to spend your life here, forsaking the Champion Marquis’s honor forever?"

"…"

Yet the exchange continued harmoniously.

"Since you’ve journeyed so far to enlist here, there’s no time to waste. I’ll personally take you to the border defense—guarding the Desolate City will be your mission," Yang Tian finally smiled, ceasing his seemingly aimless questions. Mounting the horse brought by his guards, he rode toward the northern gate.

The crowd was dazed.

Their faces blank.

Yet, as if obeying an order, they silently followed Yang Tian.

The scene was uncanny!

Some citizens and officials were utterly baffled.

They understood, and yet felt as if they’d heard nothing at all.

Were the City Lord and those men truly communicating? Could they have been speaking in code, secretly allied?

Watching the City Lord and the hundred-odd men fade into the distance, the breeze stirred, leaving a sense of bleak emptiness.

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The journey was silent.

Halfway through.

Thick smoke rose above the northern city.

Three columns of beacon fires billowed.

The Desolate City was under siege again.

This time, it was the barbarian tribes of the Northern Man Kingdom—not wild beasts.

"I’ll go ahead; you must quicken your pace," Yang Tian called out.

"Hyah—"

With that, Yang Tian, Wang Fu, and two guards urged their horses forward at a gallop. The hundred-some recruits behind him wore grim expressions and hurried as best they could, though they had only their own legs.

…

Years ago, the great tribes of the Northern Man Kingdom gradually shifted their bases.

Now, around the Desolate City, there were just over ten barbarian tribes.

Among them,

Three tribes numbered a thousand each.

The rest were scattered small tribes of several hundred.

Like wild beasts, these tribes had never united; otherwise, the Desolate City would have fallen long ago and could not have endured to the present.

Though nominally under the Northern Man Kingdom’s rule, they had grown increasingly fragmented over the years.

Much like the Desolate City itself.

Yang Tian felt a fire burning inside him.

Three beacon fires—Desolate City could hold, but it would cost many soldiers their lives.

He had been here less than ten days, and this was already the second war.

He could not afford such losses!

One after another, they gave him no time to develop.