Song Qingshu could not help worrying. He wondered how Xingqing Prefecture was doing now. Mu Wanqing, Yelü Nanxian, Li Qinglu, and the others were probably already overwhelmed.
The Mongol Empire's armies were simply too formidable in open-field warfare. Though Western Xia's troops were not weak, they still fell far short of the Mongol forces. On top of the earlier internal unrest, their combat strength had been weakened even further.
As a result, the Mongol army had driven straight in, looking as though it intended to destroy the nation in a single campaign.
Western Xia's previous crushing defeat could not really be blamed on poor command. Mongol cavalry was simply too powerful in the field. The troops led by Wèimíng Lìnggōng and Ashagandbu had already been elite forces, yet they had still been no match for them.
Yet they had no choice but to fight in the field, unless they were willing to stand by and watch the Mongol army pillage and ravage the people within their borders. Besides, sealing themselves behind city gates made it easy for the enemy to defeat them one by one, just as they had done to Shazhou City.
No matter how well they defended, they could not withstand an enemy that outnumbered them. Moreover, during their Western Expedition, the Mongols had learned to equip Huihui Cannons, artillery, and the like. Mere defense would only delay the inevitable for a few days.
Unfortunately, Western Xia's terrain could not compare to Diaoyu Fortress, where mountain fortresses could be built along strategic passes and supplies and reinforcements transported through the abundant waterways and rivers of Sichuan and Chongqing—after all, Hechuan's Diaoyu City had never fallen to the Mongols, even until the Southern Song perished.
Song Qingshu pondered Western Xia's way out with great difficulty. Xingqing Prefecture should still