In January, Alam called a war council in Xian Palace. The opulent room felt tense as he addressed Baihu, Jax, General Zhang, and other top Wanderers. The future of their newly won territory—their survival, even—hung in the balance.
“Alright,” Alam began, his voice firm but friendly. “We control most of China now. Bringing these new territories and armies into the True Horde is going to be a huge job. We’re taking on their generals and officers too, but we’re going to test them first. I don’t care if they’re old war heroes—we need brains, not just medals.”
The room went quiet. Everyone understood: this wasn’t just about numbers; it was about loyalty and skill.
“A lot of these leaders are stuck in the past,” Alam continued. “Their armies are outdated, and they probably hate each other. Our officers will be key to making this work.”
The officers nodded, looking both determined and worried. They knew how tough it would be to unite these old enemies.
“We’re stretched thin, so we need to be the backbone of this whole thing,” Alam said, looking around the room. “Anyone want to add anything?”
Baihu stepped forward. “Sir, the Wanderer officers are ready to lead these new forces. We’re trained and ready. We’ll make sure the integration goes smoothly.”
“Good,” Alam replied. “But we need to watch for trouble. We need to be ready to deal with any problems that come up.”
Baihu nodded, understanding.
Alam rubbed his chin. “Basically, I need you all on the same page as me.”
The officers exchanged glances. They knew what he meant: total loyalty.
“Let’s talk about why China’s been divided for so long and why these warlords popped up in the first place,” Alam said. “A little history lesson will help us understand our new allies.”
One representative stood up. “Sir, the Warring States period lasted for decades. Constant fighting led to the Qin dynasty, then the Three Kingdoms: the Blood Khaganate, the Xian Empire, and the Flying Dragon. It was a mess of warlords fighting for power.”
“Exactly,” Alam said. “But why do they all use these old empire names?”
“To make themselves seem more important,” the representative replied. “To connect themselves to past glory.”
“Exactly,” Alam continued, his voice rising. “They seek to see themselves as successors of the past. But we, the True Horde, are different. We are new and original, with our own vision.”
“Now,” he announced, raising his cup, “we are making history for the True Horde!”
The assembled members raised their cups in unison, their faces set with determination. The True Horde would forge a new path, striving for a united and prosperous China.
As the discussion shifted, officers began to analyze the various factions they had recruited. The atmosphere was lively, filled with intense debate about their histories, reputations, and conflicts. The officers knew that understanding their new allies was crucial to their success.
“Let’s talk about how to deal with factions that have a bad reputation,” Alam prompted, his gaze sweeping the room.
One officer spoke up, cautious yet firm. “We must be mindful of those factions. While they may be allies now, we cannot forget their past actions. We must maintain control and be ready to act decisively if they threaten our unity.”
“Agreed,” Alam replied, his expression serious. “But some of our soldiers are vagabonds and outlaws. We need to offer them a chance to change. We must keep our eyes on them, but we won’t be overly harsh.”
A murmur of agreement rippled through the group. Alam’s point resonated; many within the Wanderer Group had joined for second chances, fleeing their pasts.
“Yes,” Alam continued. “But as the prophet said, betrayal is one of the worst sins. We’ll tolerate their dubious reputations, but zero tolerance for betrayal.”
The officers nodded, understanding the gravity of Alam’s words. Betrayal could fracture their unity and lead to ruin.
“Now, let’s move on,” Alam said, shifting the focus to a map of China projected on the screen. “With most factions joined, we can now deal with the remaining minor factions while we maintain a short truce with the Red Nation. We will position ourselves as the dominant power in China once the truce is over.”
“Fang,” Alam called, “can you give us a quick intel briefing on the minor factions resisting us?”
Fang stepped forward, a data screen in hand. “Currently, six minor factions are opposing the True Horde. The remants Flying Dragon in East China and the Blood Khaganate in the north are the largest. The Xian Empire and White Lotus Society are smaller but significant. The Phantom Cult and Shadow Guard are the smallest but fiercely resistant.”
“Interesting,” Alam said, leaning closer. “The Flying Dragon? Didn’t we destroy their base three years ago? How did they revive?”
“Yes, sir,” Fang confirmed. “A new leader has emerged—charismatic and inspiring. They’ve rallied their remnants and become a formidable force once again.”
“And the Xian Empire? They still resist us in the mountains?” Alam probed.
“Correct,” Fang replied. “They refuse to back down, despite losing their capital.”
“What about the Phantom Cult and Shadow Guard? Those names sound intriguing,” Alam said, a grin forming.
Fang nodded, her tone serious. “The Phantom Cult is secretive and known for advanced technology and covert operations. their technology blurring the lines between reality and illusion. They say they can move through shadows, manipulate minds, and even predict the future
The Shadow Guard, however, is well-armed and organized, dedicated to defending their territory. They have yet to be defeated in direct confrontations.”
“And the White Lotus?” Alam asked.
“The White Lotus Society values tradition and cultural heritage above all,” Fang explained. “They are descendants of ancient clans, believing they are the rightful rulers. They resent modernity and foreign influence, committed to preserving their way of life.”
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“Right,” Alam said, his brow furrowing. “We should handle the White Lotus delicately. Despite their small numbers, harsh measures could damage our reputation.”
Fang nodded, recognizing the wisdom in Alam’s approach. The White Lotus Society’s idealism could complicate matters if not managed carefully.
“Alright, gentlemen and brave woman,” Alam concluded, “we’ll prioritize eliminating the remnants of the Xian Empire and the Flying Dragon alongside our new allies. We’ll gather more intel on the Shadow Guard and Phantom Cult first. Any questions?”
The gathered members exchanged glances, nodding in agreement. They understood the plan and the priorities laid out before them.
“Good,” Alam said, satisfied. “And Fang, arrange for a meeting with the leader of the White Lotus.”
Fang nodded, ready to facilitate the meeting.
Just a day later, she arrived at Alam’s office, excitement in her voice. “The leader of the White Lotus Society has agreed to meet with you.”
“Well, that was quick!” Alam exclaimed, leaning forward. “Where do they want to meet?”
Fang’s smile widened. “They prefer a neutral location to avoid any potential conflicts. I suggest the ancient ruins of a temple—a place without political or religious significance.”
“Great idea,” Alam said, considering the map. “How about the Mausoleum of the First Qin Emperor?”
Fang nodded enthusiastically. “That works perfectly. It’s a historical, neutral site. A fitting backdrop for a meeting with the leader of the White Lotus Society.”
As Alam finalized the details, a sense of anticipation filled the room. This meeting could be pivotal, an opportunity to bridge the gaps between past grievances and a hopeful future. The path ahead was fraught with challenges, but Alam felt a flicker of optimism. Together, they were crafting a new legacy—a True Horde that would not just honor the past, but redefine it.
In the heart of winter, Alam stood at the center of the vast Mausoleum of the First Qin Emperor, the cold biting at his skin as he awaited the leader of the White Lotus Society. The expansive grounds around him were eerily silent, save for the muffled crunch of snow beneath the heavy boots of his Wanderer Group soldiers, who stood vigil, eyes scanning the desolate landscape for any hint of danger.
The imposing mound of the mausoleum loomed in the distance, a testament to ancient power and ambition. Alam felt the weight of history pressing down on him, a stark reminder of the legacies he was trying to forge.
After a brief moment, a cart creaked toward him, pulled by a weary-looking horse. An old man with long, white hair and a beard stepped down, dressed in a pristine white robe that fluttered slightly in the cold wind. He bowed before Alam, his movements slow but dignified.
“Welcome,” Alam said, bowing slightly in return. “Thank you for accepting my invitation.”
The old man, his pale face gaunt yet composed, remained silent, his long hair framing his features like a ghostly shroud. Alam sized him up, trying to gauge the intentions of this enigmatic leader.
“Ehem... This is the third time I’ve visited this place since I took Xian,” Alam continued, breaking the tension. “Especially the terracotta warriors. They represent the peak of what power can give a mortal man.”
The old man nodded slowly, as if he understood the significance of Alam’s words. The mausoleum, with its vast array of terracotta figures, was indeed a monumental testament to the power and ambition of a long-gone empire.
“Now,” Alam pressed on, “you’ve heard the news. Most major factions in China have joined my True Horde confederation—both your allies and your enemies. So, the question is: why don’t you follow them?”
The old man’s eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of emotion crossing his stoic features. He took a moment before he spoke, his voice low and steady. “Do you want me to tell you the truth?”
“Yes,” Alam replied, leaning in, intrigued.
“I do not wish to kneel before another. I will not surrender my freedom or the freedom of my people,” he stated firmly. “I refuse to let a distant empire dictate our destiny.”
“I see,” Alam said, considering the weight of the old man’s words. “But this isn’t just about submission; it’s about survival. As the old saying goes, together we are stronger.”
The old man shook his head, rejecting Alam’s argument. “I do not see why we cannot stand together as equals. I know you are a powerful leader, but we can find common ground that respects our independence.”
Alam’s brow furrowed as he processed this. “Please, come inside. It’s cold out here.” He gestured toward a nearby tent, where a teapot awaited them.
The old man followed, and once inside, the warmth enveloped them. He settled at the table, clearly more at ease now that they were shielded from the elements.
After taking a sip of tea, Alam continued, “We haven’t properly introduced ourselves. I’m Alam. I was a squad leader in the Wanderer Group and led campaigns in Europe before forming the True Horde Confederation.”
The elder sipped his tea, a flicker of acknowledgment crossing his face. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Alam. I have heard of your campaigns. My name is not important, but I am the leader of the White Lotus Society.”
“No, it is important,” Alam insisted, leaning forward. “You know the saying: a name shows character, right?”
The old man smiled slightly, a hint of amusement breaking through his stoicism. “Very well then. My name is Tao Zhuang. Now, may I ask you a question?”
“Of course,” Alam replied, intrigued.
“What is the purpose of the True Horde Confederation? Why have you united these factions? What is your end goal in China?”
Alam chuckled, a hint of mischief in his voice. “Well, after we repel the Red Nation, I plan to reduce military campaigns and focus on stabilizing the region. I’ve seen how empires fall apart after their leaders die—look at Alexander and Genghis Khan. Their generals killed each other after they were gone. I don’t want that.”
Tao nodded, understanding the wisdom behind Alam’s words. He recognized the futility of conquest and the chaos that often followed a leader's demise.
“Now, can I ask you a question?” Alam inquired, eager to understand more.
“Please do,” Tao replied, his demeanor calm and respectful.
“I’m aware your faction is small and has meager soldiers. How have you survived this long?”
Tao smiled, a glimmer of pride in his eyes. “We may seem vulnerable, but we’ve been crafty and resourceful. We’ve hidden our true strength and used our knowledge of the terrain to our advantage. We fight with cunning, not brute force.”
“Classic strategy,” Alam remarked. “What sets you apart from other factions?”
“We are driven by philosophical and spiritual goals,” Tao explained, his tone earnest. “We’re not motivated by greed but by a genuine desire to preserve our heritage. We cherish tradition and honor our ancestors. We care for our people and our land.”
“Understood,” Alam said, leaning back. “If you join my confederation, you’ll retain some autonomy. We respect your culture and religion, but we will require some tribute.”
Tao shook his head firmly. “I appreciate the offer, but the White Lotus Society cannot join your confederation. We value our independence and will not surrender it, no matter how reasonable your proposal seems.”
“Why not?” Alam pressed, frustration creeping into his voice. “Our tribute system is fairer than war.”
Tao sighed, a flicker of irritation crossing his face beneath his beard. “Do you honestly believe we would abandon our beliefs for a fair tribute system? We desire autonomy, not subjugation. We will not sell our souls.”
Alam’s brow furrowed in thought. “What if I made your territory a cultural heritage site? You would become a symbol of the Confederacy’s spiritual legacy.”
Tao raised an eyebrow, the surprise evident in his eyes. “You would grant us that status? What would be the conditions? What would that mean for our autonomy?”
“Yes, but the tribute system would still be in place. I can’t have other factions envying your special status. You must understand my position.”
Tao nodded slowly, contemplating Alam’s words. “Very well. We accept your offer for cultural heritage status, recognizing us as a symbol of the Confederacy's spiritual legacy. We will continue to pay tribute, understanding the need for fairness.”
Alam clapped his hands, satisfaction filling him. “So, are you ready to join the True Horde?”
Tao nodded, a sense of resolution settling over him. “Yes, I am ready to join the True Horde. My faction and I will unite under this confederation, committed to preserving our heritage and beliefs while fulfilling our responsibilities.”
“Good.” Alam raised his cup in a toast before finishing his tea. “Before you leave, I want your insight on something.”
Tao followed Alam deeper into the tent, curiosity piqued. They reached the terracotta complex, the statues looming like silent sentinels. “What do you think about these statues?” Alam asked. “Do you believe that sometimes doing something extravagant is necessary? They can’t guard the emperor in the afterlife, can they?”
Tao regarded the statues with a mix of awe and admiration. “They may be extravagant, but they symbolize the power of the Qin dynasty—a lasting legacy. Their presence is a testament to ambition and might, even if impractical.”
“... So?” Alam urged, his interest piqued.
“What is the purpose of your visit here?” Tao asked, confusion flickering across his features.
“Sorry for my cryptic question,” Alam said, chuckling slightly. “I mean, is it okay to do something extravagant sometimes?”
Tao considered the question carefully. “Extravagance can have positive and negative implications. It can showcase power, but it can also lead to excess. It depends on the context.”
“Do you think this terracotta is acceptable?” Alam pressed.
“Absolutely,” Tao replied. “They reflect the grandeur of the Qin dynasty. They remind us of the empire's legacy.”
“Here’s a hard question,” Alam continued. “If I were to build a monument after this war, would that be acceptable?”
Tao took a moment, then nodded slowly. “Under certain circumstances, building a monument is acceptable. It can symbolize the accomplishments of a campaign. But consideration must be given to the costs and resources involved.”
“Of course,” Alam agreed. “It would be strange to build a monument while my people are starving.”
Tao nodded in acknowledgment, understanding the importance of ethics and social responsibility in leadership.
“Do you have anything else to say, Tao?” Alam asked.
Tao shook his head, his expression thoughtful yet reserved. “I have said all I need to.”
“Very well,” Alam said, a hint of a smile on his face. “We may meet again. Until then, farewell.”
“Farewell, Alam,” Tao replied, a soft smile gracing his lips. “It has been a pleasure speaking with you. I wish you success in your conquests and leadership.”
alam slighty smile and bow to tao before leaving , As he stepped away, Alam felt the weight of his decisions, but also the hope for a brighter future. The journey was far from over,