Rebellion was, in truth, an extremely, extremely troublesome business.
Timing, terrain, popular support, military affairs, domestic governance, diplomacy, the broader situation, the finer details...
Put into words, it amounted to three or five grand, sweeping sentences. Even an old shepherd could offer a point-by-point explanation.
But put down on paper, even the finest strategist, painstakingly crafting a million-word magnum opus, would fear that his words failed to convey his meaning.
Yang Ge had never rebelled, but he could imagine just how deep those waters ran.
Yet when it came to slaying serpents in the Eastern Isles... he had none of those worries.
Because he had never intended to become a petty emperor there.
He only wanted to be a destroyer of nations.
So how the islanders survived after the ravages of war, or what direction the Eastern Isles took afterward... what the hell did that have to do with him?
All he had to do was lead the Auxiliary Army in an unstoppable advance, cut down one village headman after another masquerading as a mighty lord, smash open one supposedly famous city after another, then shut the doors and loose the dogs. Once the Auxiliary Army finished, he would take the city's wealth and continue advancing... it was simple enough to repeat endlessly, so pure a process that he had practically nothing to worry about.
As for whether he left blazing cities or mountains of corpses and seas of blood behind him...
Though he had not ordered those people killed or those cities burned, if someone insisted on laying every last sin at his feet-
He, Yang Ge, would own it!
If he dared do it, he was not afraid to answer for it.
The question was whether the Eastern Isles' Plain of High Heaven could cross jurisdictions and lodge