The collapse of the Bulgars was like an unstoppable flood pouring down from a mountaintop; they threw away their armor and weapons, fleeing the battlefield like the cowards they most despised.
Many still had the strength to fight, but with the appearance of the Rurik Trident behind them and the Khan himself nowhere to be seen, they chose to flee.
Their commander and main formation were gone, so of course, they had to run fast, the faster the better.
Moreover, their battle lines had been shattered by the iron cavalry; the Rus' counterattack had directly pierced through the entire front, and with enemies everywhere, fighting was no longer feasible.
As for the lords who had only come due to threats or inducements, they ran even faster. They were there for profit, and now that the battle was clearly unwinnable, they naturally decided to slip away.
And as these people ran, they created more chaos, shouting things like "The Khan has fled!" and "The Kinslayer is a deserter!", extinguishing any desire to fight in those who still dared to.
Many Bulgars surrendered directly, but they chose their targets for surrender. Surrendering to the Rus' only led to slavery, but surrendering to Adam's Bulgars was different; Adam needed these Bulgars.
Meanwhile, in the Rus' camp, there were countless cheers. Rostislav's main force entered the field at this moment and directly joined the pursuit and slaughter, and the addition of this force completely cut off any possibility of a Bulgar counterattack.
The accompanying priests shouted that the miracles on the battlefield came from the power of the Holy Mother. They held up images of the Holy Mother on both sides of the river, showing the surrounding soldiers how great the Holy Mother was and boasting of her power.
The soldiers were naturally infected by this fervent emotion. In the soldiers' eyes, having a deity by their side would surely bring them victory, and they became even more zealous in their pursuit of the Bulgar deserters.
Everywhere one looked, the battlefield was filled with warriors shouting the name of the Holy Mother, and Poleye, who had arranged this, smiled contentedly, believing that after this battle, many would convert to Christ.
In fact, this was one of several contingency plans Rostislav had devised to turn the tide when the battlefield situation was unfavorable. The Moscow Prince had informed his subordinates of these plans very early on.
And Poleye seized an even better opportunity, achieving an even better effect. Rostislav couldn't help but praise this from the bottom of his heart when he saw this scene. Using this move at this time indeed achieved the best effect.
And on Rostislav's side, the Moscow Prince was now sitting on a stone, leaning on his sword, covered in blood, and there was even more blood on his sword.
There were many cuts and hacking marks on his chainmail. The intensity of the previous battle made the Moscow Prince sigh with emotion; if not for this sturdy armor, he would surely have been finished.
The Prince was surrounded by his retainers, whose condition was not great, but they still stood upright by his side, protecting the Prince's safety, while blood filled the ground beneath their feet.
His cloak had many slashes and was stained with blood, basically ruined, so Rostislav took it off.
It was then that Poleye rode up to Rostislav. He dismounted in front of the Prince and saluted him.
"Congratulations, Lord Rostislav, you have achieved a victory that will be sung in epics. You defeated tens of thousands of Bulgars with only a few thousand men."
"I see it as a negative example of river crossing operations. This battle was too difficult."
Rostislav had no patience for the flattery. He was annoyed seeing the troops still continuously crossing the river on the pontoon bridge, their faces still showing fervent battle intent and greed for spoils.
Too many forces had not been committed to the battlefield; the numerical advantage that should have been brought to bear was not utilized at all.
He knew better than anyone how dangerous this battle was, and he didn't want to fight like this. He had put himself in danger several times, but circumstances forced him to do so.
"Fortunately, at least this risk has yielded the returns we deserved."
Poleye showed no sign of embarrassment when his flattery was publicly rejected. This old man had experienced too many ups and downs; such a minor matter would not stir his heart.
These words resonated with Rostislav, for as the saying goes, in this battle they had routed Akad's main force and eliminated a large portion of his core strength, a completely worthwhile gain.
Akad's rule was built on military force; his strong suppression of various regions relied on his army. Without an army, he would be nothing.
It could be said that this battle had destroyed more than half of Akad's ruling power.
"Lord Rostislav, I think we should send people to spread the news of the defeat. Do you think that's acceptable?"
Seeing Rostislav nod, Poleye quickly continued, but this time the Moscow Prince shook his head, then gestured for his retainers to help him up.
"No need, the deserters will help us accomplish all of that. By the way, where is Adam?"
"Lord Adam, ah."
When Adam was mentioned, Poleye's expression changed slightly, showing displeasure, which Rostislav noticed, but he did not speak immediately, instead waiting to hear what Poleye would say.
"He is accepting the surrender and cheers of the Bulgars."
As Poleye spoke, he looked to the side. Rostislav followed his gaze and saw Adam, surrounded by cheering Bulgar soldiers, accepting their surrender.
Bulgar lords presented their weapons, and Adam's attendants accepted them one by one. Then, the Khan himself helped the surrendering individuals to their feet, expressing his acceptance of them, just like a true ruler.
Seeing this scene, Rostislav understood the source of Poleye's dissatisfaction. He simply smiled slightly and then spoke.
"Adam is not our puppet; he is the true Bulgar Khan. Isn't this why we came to Bulgar, my friend?"
Rostislav was pleased to see this, but for those who had subconsciously always regarded Adam as a puppet, this was a different matter entirely.
"I know… but I still feel some regret. From our ancestors onwards, we have always hoped to conquer this land, and now we are indeed stepping onto this land, but… alas, I am old now."
Poleye, who had just seemed so astute, now showed his emotions. As a Kiev noble, he had grown up listening to the stories of his ancestors' conquests. He had an incredibly strong desire to conquer Volga Bulgaria, especially to plunder that great city.
Unfortunately, according to Rostislav's strategy, that was almost impossible, and he was already old.
"By preserving this city and country, we can gain more, and in the future, our descendants will not be troubled by conflicts in this area. Poleye, one day our descendants will peacefully enter this city and rule it, you'll see."
Rostislav simply said this. This junior of his was much more open-minded about this matter than Poleye.
He was not some madman obsessed with slaughter. He would do things that were beneficial, but a one-time thrill was out of the question; there was no need for it.
It was then that Rostislav noticed people already looting corpses on the battlefield, which made him smile. These people were truly quick.
But this also reminded him—it was time to clear the battlefield.
Next, Rostislav began giving orders for the post-war cleanup. Although the battle was over, they still had this mess to sort out.
However, what Rostislav did not expect was that with this victory, the scattered stragglers who had not been able to participate in the battle would cause him a lot of trouble.
————
As the Rus' celebrated their victory, Akad Khan was in a desperate flight.
Compared to the massive entourage Akad Khan usually had when traveling, the Khan's retinue had truly shrunk too much now.
And the Bulgar Dragon banner now hung limply on its pole, just like their morale.
This also signified the decline of his power. The Bulgar Khan's authority depended on the existence of his loyal army. Here, only a few hundred people remained, and with so few, it was difficult to accomplish anything.
However, to the Khan's relief, he had successfully brought out all the young men from the religious academy. Since the battle at Sandbar had already been lost and his forces had suffered heavy losses, he had to initiate another strategy, one that could at least make the victors uncomfortable or even get them into trouble.
As the group moved forward, a village appeared before the Bulgars. It was a typical Bulgar village, with even a mosque inside.
Upon seeing the village, the defeated soldiers finally cheered up considerably. This meant they could finally rest. They had been running all day, for almost half a day.
At first, they could still see some Rus' pursuers and Bulgar deserters behind them. They even saw some deserters slaughtering villages and robbing travelers.
Normally, Akad would never tolerate such behavior, but now was different; he himself was busy fleeing.
But soon they saw none of this. The surroundings were relatively calm, showing no signs of panic due to war. It seemed the news had not reached here yet, and the Rus' had not arrived either.
However, Akad Khan stopped the group here. Then he called for Jia Dabi, a talent he had personally promoted in recent years.
"Jia Dabi, you and your classmates should leave. You cannot go to Bulgar."
"Why, Lord Akad? Have we done something wrong?"
Jia Dabi was very confused by this. When he first heard that Akad had called for him, he had mentally prepared himself, thinking the Khan was sending him on a suicide mission—Jia Dabi still remembered how ruthlessly the Khan had treated his own son.
But now, he learned that Akad wanted him to lead people away, and those people were his classmates, who would surely listen to him.
Jia Dabi was ecstatic about this. He didn't want to return to Bulgar because he knew Bulgar wouldn't hold out for long.
Although the city was strong, its defense depended on enough soldiers and enough loyalty, and neither of these conditions was met. The Khan had almost lost all his loyal subordinates.
Of course, he couldn't say this out loud; saying so would surely get him punished by the Khan. Their Khan had never been a lenient person.
"Of course not, Jia Dabi, I just want to plant some seeds. The jurists in the city will also leave soon. As long as you are still there, everything still has hope."
"Hope?" Jia Dabi asked, unable to suppress himself. He felt as if the Khan was planning something.
"The hope of resistance, the hope of upholding the true faith. That converting bastard must never sit securely on the throne of Bulgar. He must never shift this country away from the true faith."
Hearing this, Jia Dabi finally understood what Akad meant. Although the exterior was covered in grand words, the core was very simple.
Akad wanted to scatter the essence of Bulgar islam throughout the countryside, and as long as this essence remained, even if Adam entered Bulgar City, he would never sit securely on that position, and the Rus' would be exhausted by this.
"I understand. What about you then?"
"Me? All of this requires a martyr. I do not fear death; the key is to die with value."
At these words, Jia Dabi finally took a serious look at the Khan before him. All along, his obedience to the Khan had only been out of respect for his authority, for his power. As for the man himself, Jia Dabi at most feared his ruthlessness.
As for the image of an islam defender he had created for himself, Akad completely regarded it as merely a persona; he only did so because he needed the support of the jurists.
But this time, Jia Dabi finally felt an emotion called respect for this man. Regardless of Akad's true motives, there is ultimately a saying that one judges by actions, not by intentions. As long as he did such a thing, then he was a great man, a banner of resistance.
"Then, I wish your endeavor success, Lord Akad."
Jia Dabi's words had never been so full of respect as they were now. Then he bid farewell to Akad; he still had to organize and lead his classmates.
The Khan naturally nodded in agreement, and as he watched them leave, a smile appeared on the Khan's face, a smile of a successful conspiracy.
Adam, Rostislav, I will never let you have peace. Just wait to fall into trouble.
Then, the Bulgar Khan looked at the few dozen people remaining after a large group had left. He also looked at the sky and saw that it was already dark.
"Let's go to that village. We'll rest there, gather some food, and let the warhorses rest. The Rus' won't pursue us at night; they're busy cleaning up the battlefield. Oh, and don't tell them I'm Akad!"
After the orders were given, Akad's attendants let out a cheer; they could finally rest.
And Akad took off his crown and put it in his pocket, tearing off his luxurious robes.
Akad was also someone who had been on the battlefield for a long time. He knew that after a defeat, if you presented yourself as an important person without any retainers.
Then you would find that for some reason, the most obedient farmers would take out their weapons and then surge towards him like a tide.
In comparison, appearing as an ordinary routed soldier was less likely to cause trouble.
However, Akad forgot one thing at this moment: he and his attendants were all wearing iron armor, which was not cheap.