Yang Feng reined in his horse and looked down at Han Xian, who was kneeling in the dust with Guo Da's head held high in both hands.
For a moment, no one spoke.
The surrounding soldiers—both the remnants of the Yellow Turbans and Yang Feng's men—stood frozen, watching the scene unfold.
Yang Feng's gaze lingered on the severed head.
Guo Da… a man who had commanded tens of thousands, who had shaken Taiyuan just days ago.
Now reduced to this.
"Lift your head," Yang Feng said calmly.
Han Xian slowly raised his face, forcing down the fear in his eyes.
"I… I was compelled by circumstances," he stammered. "Guo Da led us into ruin. The brothers have long lost faith in him. I only acted to save what remains… I am willing to submit to the court and follow your command, General."
Yang Feng did not respond immediately.
Instead, he looked past Han Xian—to the ragged, starving soldiers behind him.
Their armor was in tatters. Their faces hollow. Their eyes filled not with hatred, but desperation.
These were no longer an army.
Just survivors.
After a long silence, Yang Feng spoke:
"Guo Da brought this upon himself."
Then his tone sharpened slightly.
"But you—killing your own commander to save your life…"
Han Xian's heart tightened.
"…is not without precedent in chaotic times," Yang Feng finished.
A faint ripple of relief passed through the kneeling man.
Yang Feng raised his hand.
"Take the head."
A soldier stepped forward and received Guo Da's head.
"This will be sent to Marquis Xuanwei as proof of merit," Yang Feng said.
Then he turned his attention back to Han Xian.
"As for you—if you truly wish to surrender, you will disarm your men immediately. All weapons will be handed over."
"Yes! Yes!" Han Xian nodded frantically.
"And your soldiers," Yang Feng continued, "will be reorganized. Those willing to serve may be incorporated. Those who do not will be resettled."
He paused, then added:
"No looting. No disorder. Anyone who violates this—will be executed."
His voice was firm, leaving no room for negotiation.
Han Xian immediately kowtowed.
"I understand! I understand! Thank you, General!"
Behind him, the remaining Yellow Turban soldiers began to drop their weapons one by one.
Spears… blades… crude farming tools.
Clattering onto the ground.
Yang Feng watched silently.
He knew very well—
This was not just the end of Guo Da.
This marked the collapse of one more fragment of the chaotic forces that had ravaged Bingzhou.
Before long, the head of Guo Da was sent to Zhang Xin's camp.
—
When Zhang Xin received it, he merely glanced at the box before closing the lid.
"Han Xian killed him?" he asked.
"Yes, my lord," the messenger replied. "Yang Feng has already secured the remnants and awaits further orders."
Zhang Xin nodded slightly.
"No need to pursue further."
He stood with his hands behind his back, looking toward the north.
"The White Wave forces are finished."
His tone was calm—but carried weight.
Step by step, he had eliminated the scattered warlords, absorbed their troops, and stabilized Bingzhou.
Now—
Only the greater threats remained.
The Southern Xiongnu… and beyond them, the northern степpe.
Zhang Xin's eyes narrowed slightly.
"This is only the beginning."