The cousin of the southern demon prince Broad-Valor was called Broad-Terror, who controlled a massive tribe of demons that lived in the eastern wastelands. That land was barren, cold, rocky and hardly anything could live there, which naturally made his tribe rugged and formidable fighters.
Shortly after the tribe of Broad-Valor was made into a tributary of Tengir, Broad-Terror paid a visit to his cousin with a massive retinue of warriors. But when Broad-Terror and his retinue arrived at the settlements of Broad-Valor, he saw that his cousin and everyone in his cousin's tribe, even the most honored and eminent lords among them, lived in poverty: their houses were shabby and unadorned, their coffers were empty, no golden or silver wares had they, and they were clothed in nothing but tattered cottons and nappy fleeces. The sight of his cousin's pitiful situation moved Broad-Terror's heart, he said to him: "Cousin, the last time I was here, you ate out of golden bowls, drank from golden cups, and even your servants' bodies were covered in the finest silks; your cellars were overflowing with wine, you ate fish and meat for every meal and your horses were fat. Now only a year has passed, and I have returned to find that you eat and drink out of rotten driftwood, you have nothing to clothe yourselves in but rags, your cellars are empty, you barely have enough grain to eat, and your horses are emaciated. What disaster has befallen you, so odious as to humble you so?" Woefully, Broad-Valor responded thus: "It all started when the mad son of Lord Tengir known as With-Heaven was dispatched here to wreak havoc upon our land. I sent warriors to kill him, but he was possessed by a god of war, so he was unkillable. He escaped, going who knows where. After that, I had a mind to attack Lord Tengir in retaliation, so I took the warriors with me to the north, but we were no match for him. He made our country into a tributary, demanding a yearly payment of one thousand silver and one hundred gold pieces." Broad-Terror said: "What an impudent fellow, that Deity is. What right does he think he has to reduce lords of an ancient and high-named race such as ours to serfs, who can't even feed and clothe themselves respectably. This, cousin, is no way to live. You must not accept his lording it up." And Broad-Valor: "Cousin, I would take him on again if I could, I would throw down my life if it meant I could unburden my clan of this cursed yoke, but last time he slew so many of my good warriors, even my own sons. I have no strength left." To which Broad-Terror: "Then let us consolidate our warriors and take him on together. We are cousins, the same blood flows through our veins. This is not just your fight, it is mine too. And I have five times as many warriors as you do, who have been hardened through years not only of fierce battle, but of bearing the harsh conditions in our homeland. Let us destroy Tengir and share the spoils of war. What say you?" Broad-Valor was silent for a while before accepting: "Yes, let us."
Thereupon Broad-Terror sent a messenger back to his homeland to summon the rest of his warriors. He also lent Broad-Valor some money to buy new weapons and armor. It took almost a month for the warriors to arrive. They were combined with the warriors of Broad-Valor to yield a total of ten thousand warriors, most of whom had chariots. When the tribute-collectors for that year arrived, Broad-Valor refused to pay them anything, and they went back empty-handed. When word of the rebellion reached Tengir, he commanded Thousand-Horse and Golden-Wolf to rouse the warriors and get them ready for the campaign. By that time, Tengir's house was powerful enough to field twelve thousand warriors on chariots, each armed with a sword, dagger, bow and quiver. He took charge of three thousand of these, and assigned the remaining nine thousand to nine generals. They set out.
The two armies faced off in the hither zones of the Ashen Hills. Although Tengir's forces were greater in number by a small margin, they were not able to immediately claim supremacy over the battlefield, but rather fought the enemy to a stalemate. This went on for several hours. When the sun had halfway completed its downward course, the warriors fell off of each other and the battle was about to die out with no clear victor, when Broad-Terror rode his chariot driven by four menacing black steeds into the fore of the fray, demanding that either Tengir or one of his champions step forward to face him in single combat. The first man to accept his challenge was the general of Tengir known as Pure-Blade. He engaged Broad-Terror for fifty rounds, fighting with expert skill, and he would have fought for fifty rounds more had the constant and sudden turning of his antique chariot's wheels not worn the axle down till it snapped, and he was forced to retreat. As he did so, Broad-Terror did not give chase, but had this taunt to hurl at him: "How embarrassing. What kind of warrior lets his ride go to waste so? Is there not a single true warrior in the army of Tengir?" Hearing the insult, Pure-Blade was incensed. He turned around, took a javelin off one of his warriors and flung it at Broad-Terror. He avoided it, and it fixed itself into the side of his wooden chariot, but this dishonorable act sent him into a frenzy; he fired three arrows in quick succession at Pure-Blade, striking him in the back and killing him.
Broad-Terror said: "Who next will face me? Or has the army of Tengir already been depleted of all its good warriors?" Two more champions rose to the challenge, each of them distinguished commanders, but they both met the same fate as Pure-Blade. Thousand-Horse shook his head, saying: "Rather than sacrifice more of our good commanders over foolish boasts, why don't I go out there and show you all how it's done." He drove his chariot, pulled by four thoroughbreds, onto the dusty dueling ground. The air still harbored the scent of blood. He said nothing to Broad-Terror, only unsheathed his broadsword and rushed ahead. Broad-Terror discharged a flurry of arrow in his direction, but by his expert steering they all ended up in the dirt. After about half his arrows were spent, Broad-Terror took out his broadsword and drove his horses till they were moving at full speed. Thousand-Horse produced his own blade, and the air filled with sparks as the two blades met again and again. Eventually Thousand-Horse landed a blow on Broad-Terror's armor, causing it to come apart despite not injuring its wearer. Broad-Terror withdrew and commanded the army to advance, and advance it did. The two armies contended for supremacy the whole afternoon, but it seemed as though both sides were merely burning through men without gaining any ground. Concerned by this development, Tengir--by now highly cultivated in divinatory arts--conjured a black storm cloud and caused it to sweep just above the enemies' heads. The enemies tried in vain to cut the clouds with swords or shoot them with arrows, and in this distracted mania they became easy targets. The battle quickly shifted in Tengir's favor, and Broad-Terror commanded a steady retreat.
Tengir gave a commander's banner to Thousand-Horse and told him, Golden-Wolf and Mountain-Well to give chase. Broad-Terror's warriors were rugged and dogged, but fleet-footed they were not. The stragglers became easy pickings for Tengir's archers. Forced to the eastern boundary of the Ashen Hills, Broad-Terror and Broad-Valor had the choice either to try to ford the river (and no doubt lose half their men doing so) or turn around and give battle. They chose to fight. Broad-Valor said to his cousin: "Cousin, you almost got yourself killed last time. Let me ride in the front this time." He charged head on and engaged Thousand-Horse, but the latter had no trouble fighting him off. Golden-Wolf soon joined him and they cut Broad-Valor in two. By that time, a large portion of the enemy army had fallen; whoever remained began trying to cross the river. But the warriors who belonged to Broad-Terror's tribe were unfamiliar with the region and so had a hard time finding good spots to ford. Most of them either drowned or, wading slowly through the water, were sitting targets. For every ten demons who went into the Ashen Hills, only three came out. Broad-Terror mustered the few who remained and returned to his homeland, shedding tears for his cousin all the way. Thousand-Horse, Golden-Wolf and Mountain-Well continued to pursue him, but as soon as they reached the wastelands, the going got very rough and they were running low on provisions, so they went home to a heroes' welcome.
Since Broad-Valor was dead, the Southern District had no preeminent ruler, so the nobles elected his only surviving son--sixteen years of age--to replace him as chieftain. Tengir did not accept this. He exiled the young man and installed a cousin of Broad-Valor's who was already amenable to his supremacy. Because Tengir was magnanimous, he did not increase the burden of tribute as punishment for the rebellion.