Yanmenguan falls, and one hundred thousand border troops collapse overnight.
The commander-in-chief is killed in battle, and the Di cavalry trample the northern frontier.
He crawls out of a pile of corpses and picks up a broken blade.
No one remembers the name of this foot soldier. He has no patron or connections, only skills honed through bloodshed.
And yet this is the man who
sees through the Di tribe’s encirclement plan and turns a band of survivors into an iron army;
turns a barren city into a granary and refugees into military settlers;
and makes the powerful ministers at court lose sleep just hearing his name.
Three years later, the Northern Di dare not look south.
Five years later, he is enfeoffed as a marquis and commands one hundred thousand iron cavalry.
Ten years later, he stands atop the Nine Provinces, looking down upon the world.
Some call him a warlord born of chaos. Others call him the living King of Hell.
Only he knows the truth: this realm was never conquered. It was “herded” into being.
Whoever can keep the people alive can rule the realm.
The Northern Di khan once asked, “Who exactly is that man called Qin Mu?”
Someone answered, “He’s the man who means to herd the Nine Provinces…”
