The Tent Council's Perilous Situation, Unsettled Intentions; Deep Schemes Probe Reality First

"You all know the basic situation. The enemy's strength is immeasurable. Whether it's those mechanical iron weapons or their cavalry, neither will be easy to deal with."

"The Royal Court now stands on the brink of destruction. We have little time left to make a decision."

"Fight, or make peace?"

After a long silence, Touman's voice came again, carrying the pressure of a hammer blow.

For a moment.

No one in the tent answered.

"Fight."

The Left Worthy King was the first to speak.

He straightened up from the felt mat.

His voice was hotter than the dying embers in the fire pit, carrying a searing restlessness that refused to burn out.

"What did the Qin Army rely on to win this time?

Mechanical iron weapons.

Those iron lumps can spit fire and thunder. They sound terrifying, but the Great Chanyu just said it himself.

They're set up on high ground and can't be moved around freely.

Mo Tu lost because he fell into their trap, cramming his army into that funnel so those evil weapons could fire to their hearts' content."

He rose and walked to the sheepskin map, his boot grinding over the scattered blades of grass on the ground.

The scorch marks on the map were still there. He reached out and covered that blackened patch, as though he meant to wipe the defeat from before his eyes.

"The grasslands are so vast—from the Royal Court to the Yin Mountains, from the Yin Mountains to the North Sea—spanning thousands of li.

How many of those evil weapons do they have?

A hundred?

Two hundred?

Can they cover the entire grasslands?

No.

We go around them. We don't fight them in set-piece battles, and we don't squeeze into their traps.

Xiongnu cavalry is the wind, and the wind