Chapter 31: Ambush in the Underground Palace

At dawn the next day, King Golan of Galan received news that a Tang army of over a hundred men had appeared in the gorge west of Galan City. Still very anxious, fearing that his secret alliance with the Tibetans had been discovered by the Tang forces, he immediately sent people to seek aid from the Tibetan army.

The Tibetan army had 800 troops stationed at the entrance to the Chifotang Road, led by a thousandth-in-command. Their camp was located about twenty miles from the palace. Although Golan’s message said only a hundred or so Tang soldiers had been seen, the Tibetan troops became vigilant. The appearance of the Tang army in Datelemanchuan was certainly no good sign. The Tibetan leader promptly decided to send reinforcements to Galan City and move their camp to a more strategic location near the palace. If they could hold that place, even tens of thousands of Tang soldiers wouldn’t scare them.

The 800 Tibetan troops left their camp and marched toward Galan City along the river valley. Meanwhile, a small Tibetan squad headed east via a secret passage to report on the movements of the Tang army at Lianyun Fort.

Heat shrouded the river valley, making it unbearably sweltering. After traveling less than ten miles, the weather in the valley changed suddenly. It had been sunny in the morning, but by noon, dark clouds covered the valley like ink, plunging the gorge into darkness. In an instant, lightning flashed and thunder roared, with torrential rain pouring down. The Tibetan troops were caught off guard. They quickly led their horses to higher ground. Having experience, they knew that if the rain continued for long, it might trigger a landslide that would swallow them all.

They soon found a crevice in a cliff and took shelter there. The crevice seemed as if the mountain had been split by a sword, forming a huge palace that could hold tens of thousands of people. Although there were over 800 Tibetan troops, they only occupied a small corner of the palace, with their war horses tied in another corner. The underground palace was filled with noise—several bonfires burned brightly as the Tibetans gathered around them to dry their clothes, talking loudly and drinking barley wine. Their leader, Lundojie, appeared anxious and restless, frequently climbing onto a large rock to check the storm outside. He was extremely worried; if Galan City fell to the Tang army, his life would be in danger.

Lundojie sat down and took a few sips of barley wine, but he couldn’t resist climbing back onto the rock to observe the outside situation. The rain had been falling for a long time with no sign of stopping.

Just then, Lundojie suddenly saw a glint of metal, like a star twinkling in the dark sky. In an instant, that glint appeared right in front of him. He saw clearly—it was a streamlined arrowhead, moving at great speed. The bright point on the arrowhead resembled the sinister grin of death. Lundojie felt a sharp pain in his forehead and everything went black before his eyes.

Luo Jie let out a scream as he tumbled down from the boulder. A wolf-toothed arrow pierced his skull. Under the light of the bonfire, it was clear to see two characters engraved on the arrow—“Lingshan”—while the other two characters, “Blood Arrow,” were embedded in his head.
The sudden turn of events left the underground palace dead silent. The Tubo soldiers stared blankly at their leader’s corpse. Suddenly, they all jumped up, but it was too late. A large group of Tang soldiers rushed in from the storm, armed with bows and arrows. Arrows rained down in an instant, killing many Tubo soldiers. Cries of pain filled the air as several soldiers were hit by arrows and fell into the fire. Their bodies instantly caught fire as they struggled to get up, running a few steps before collapsing again, curled into balls.
The Tang soldiers charged in, their long spears sharp and their swords gleaming, slaughtering the unprepared Tubo soldiers. Heads rolled to the ground, and cries, shouts, and screams turned the underground palace into a hellish slaughterhouse.
Li Qing’an rode around the palace at full speed, drawing his bow like a full moon, shooting arrows that took lives. In just a moment, he killed over thirty Tubo soldiers.
At that moment, a Tubo centurion as tall as a bear, extremely fierce, wore chainmail and defied swords and blades. He fought fiercely against five Tang soldiers, killing three of them. Suddenly, he was struck in the back by a sword that cut through his chainmail, causing blood to flow profusely. The centurion turned sharply, grabbed one of the Tang soldiers, and with a roar, tore him in half. The blood was overwhelming, and the scene was unbearable. The centurion laughed heartily.
Li Qing’an was furious. He drew an iron arrow, narrowed his eyes, and fixed them on that laughing, bloody mouth. He slowly drew his bow to full tension, released it, and the iron arrow shot out like lightning. The arrow pierced the centurion’s mouth and exited through his brain, spraying blood. Its immense force pinned him to the ground.
With the death of this Tubo centurion at Li Qing’an’s hands, the Tubo soldiers’ morale collapsed. They were slaughtered by the Tang soldiers, and more than eight hundred of them were killed, none surviving.
The battle gradually came to an end. The huge underground palace was filled with corpses, reeking of blood. Thick streams of blood flowed into the central depression, quickly forming a pool of blood. Dozens of dead Tang soldiers were cremated on the spot, and their bones were placed in jars to be taken back to their hometowns.
In the misty rain, figures moved. Li Fei Shouyu returned with dozens of soldiers.
“How did it go? Were there any who escaped?”

“Reporting to the general, we ambushed the Tibetan squad upstream. All ten Tibetan messengers were killed, not a single one escaped, and the Tibetan stronghold was also deserted.”
“Well done!”
Li Qing’an glanced at the hellish underground palace, frowned, then ordered, “Cut off their heads and take them away; burn the bodies.”
As the stinking smoke of the corpses filled the palace, the Tang army had already left, disappearing into the heavy rain with the Tibetan horses.
…
The rain had gradually stopped, and no floods had broken out, but the waters of the Datule River swelled dramatically, rushing through narrow passages with a roar like thunder.
The Tang army gradually approached the palace of Galan City. The palace was on high alert, as King Guole had mobilized almost all the city’s troops to defend it—though there were only a little over a thousand of them. They stood densely packed on the platforms on both sides of the palace, anxiously watching the Tang army approaching from the east.
“General, shall we launch a frontal attack?” Li Fei Shouyu asked in a low voice.
“No need! We don’t need to suffer casualties to deal with such weak enemies.”
Li Qing’an turned around and ordered, “Build a mountain of heads.”
A hundred paces away from the palace, the Tang army began to stack Tibetan heads to form a mountain of heads. More than eight hundred heads, each with a terrifying expression—some still wearing helmets, some with hair loose, some with eyes wide in fury, some showing pain, and even some with faces so burned beyond recognition.
The mountain of heads was quickly built, creating a horrifying sight that was especially terrifying. Many soldiers on the palace began to vomit, and most trembled with fear. King Guole of Galan turned pale. The queen beside him suddenly realized what the mountain was made of, screamed in terror, and collapsed, fainting.
Li Qing’an attached a letter to an arrow shaft. His massive bow was slowly drawn, aiming at King Guole’s golden crown a hundred paces away. The string released, and the long arrow flew in a parabolic path toward the king on the platform. A scream rose from the platform. Guole was confused. When he realized the arrow was aimed at him, he was terrified. It was too late to dodge. With a sharp sound, the arrow pierced his golden crown, and his scalp felt the cold shaft. Guole’s vision went dark, and he also fainted from fear.
“King! Queen!”
Chaos erupted on the platform. After a while, Guole woke up, screaming repeatedly, “I’m dying! I’m dying!”
“Your Majesty, it’s a letter.”
“A letter?”
Guole was too weak to even hold the letter. Trembling, he asked, “What does it say?”

The guard tore open the letter, which was written in Tocharian, containing only one sentence: “Surrender to the Tang Dynasty, and you may continue to be the king of Golan. If you refuse, another pile of heads will be built.”
“Your Majesty, what should we do?”
Gole let out a long sigh. “What else can we do? Bind me and the queen and surrender!”