The wind howled across the heavens, swirling with yellow sand.
The Chongzhou army, their formation shattered by the relentless charge of the Jizhou troops, was thrown into chaos on the battlefield. Junior officers struggled to maintain order, but the pursuing Jizhou forces pressed too closely, widening the breaches in their ranks until they were fragmented and surrounded.
In war, momentum is everything. Once morale crumbled, the Chongzhou soldiers were swiftly beaten back by the ferocious assault of the Jizhou army.
The frontline Jizhou soldiers, bloodlust in their eyes, fought with increasing ferocity.
Among the Chongzhou ranks, from generals to foot soldiers, fear crept onto their faces. Even the shouts of charging officers lacked their usual conviction.
Some soldiers even began to flee the battlefield in disarray.
The Chongzhou commander, enraged, drew his sword and executed several retreating soldiers, bellowing hoarsely, "Those who retreat—show no mercy!"
But his voice was drowned out by the deafening clash of steel and the roar of battle, rendering his command futile.
Just as the commander prepared to lead a charge himself, the thunder of war drums erupted from the walls of Chongzhou city behind him.
The towering walls of Chongzhou, with their Bastion Walls extending like wings into the mountains, amplified the sound of dozens of drums beating in unison. The waves of sound, trapped on three sides, surged through the only opening like a tidal wave.
The terrain acted like a funnel, sending the drumbeats echoing across the battlefield, shaking the hearts of all who heard them.
Fan Changyu, leading the right flank in the thick of battle, instinctively turned toward the city gates at the sound of the drums.
The massive gates, which could withstand a battering ram for half a day without yielding, now creaked open slowly, parting the smoke and banners strewn across the ground.
Dust billowed as spears and halberds advanced in unison. The defenders inside, faces twisted with fury, charged out with weapons raised, roaring like a flood unleashed from a broken dam.
After two vanguard units surged forward to stabilize the front lines, an elderly general with half-black, half-white hair and clad in Golden Mountain Pattern Armor rode forth on a prized steed. Drawing his sword, he bellowed, "Charge—!"
More Chongzhou defenders poured from the gates behind him, howling as they stormed onto the battlefield.
From the rebel ranks, someone shouted, "The Prince himself has taken the field! Victory for Chongzhou!"
Like a stone cast into still waters, the cry rippled through the battlefield.
With reinforcements arriving and the Prince of Changxin leading the charge, the demoralized Chongzhou forces, who had been on the verge of collapse, suddenly found their fighting spirit renewed.
Earlier in the battle, Fan Changyu had seized a horse, planting the vanguard's banner into the stirrup and steadying the flagpole with her foot to keep it upright.
After hours of relentless combat, her mount was exhausted. Though her strikes with the Horse-Cutting Sword remained fierce, she was only human—her arms ached with fatigue, her hands trembling uncontrollably during brief pauses.
Not from fear, but from muscles pushed beyond their limits, spasming from sheer exhaustion.
From horseback, her vantage point gave her a clearer view of the battlefield. As she assessed the disparity in numbers between the two sides, she realized with grim certainty: if the rebels encircled them now, none of them would make it back alive.She forcefully pressed her foot into the stirrup, tugging the reins to turn in another direction. Sweat-drenched strands of hair clung to her face, sticky with dust and grime. Her eyes blazed with the ferocity of a tiger or leopard as she shouted, "Cut through the middle of this entangled Chongzhou army! Don't let them trap us here!"
The vanguard's banners flapped fiercely behind her. Though clad in the tattered armor of a common soldier, no one could mistake her for one.
The Jizhou soldiers behind her immediately followed her lead, executing a swift turn like a coiling dragon's tail, keeping close behind without hesitation.
The rebels, having been battered by the imperial vanguard that had torn through their formations, now saw their chance to retaliate. With reinforcements arriving, they threw themselves into blocking the retreat with reckless abandon.
Their commanding general even abandoned rear defenses, deploying all forces to flank from both sides, determined to trap and annihilate the imperial vanguard that had breached their lines.
He Jingyuan and his subordinate generals stood atop a vantage point, observing the battlefield below.
Tang Peiyi, furious, struck the pine tree beside him and clasped his fists in salute. "General, I request permission to lead troops to relieve the right flank!"
After a moment of contemplation, He Jingyuan replied, "Sui Tuo once earned his title through military merit. Though aged, his Lion-Head Spear remains formidable. I will lead three thousand men to confront him personally. General Tang, take two thousand and reinforce the right flank."
Tang Peiyi's worry instantly turned to relief. "Understood, General!" he responded eagerly.
Before Fan Changyu, figures blurred in and out of focus. She swung her blade with near-numb determination, the hot, bitter liquid dripping from her eyelids into her eyes—whether sweat or blood, she couldn't tell.
Her jaw clenched tightly. As her blade sliced through the rebel soldiers blocking her path, she could no longer distinguish whose expression was more savage—theirs or her own.
There was a time when she couldn't bring herself to strike down rebel soldiers on the battlefield.
But now, those following her were comrades who had entrusted their lives to her. If she hesitated, the next blade might fall upon those who had followed her without hesitation.
As an outsider, she could pity the lowest-ranking soldiers on both sides. But now, she was part of the fray—just as she had once raised her blade against mountain bandits to protect her neighbors, defending her brothers-in-arms had become her duty.
Fan Changyu fought like a frenzied leopard. Every swing of her Horse-Cutting Sword sent sprays of blood into the air.
The rebels soon recognized her as a formidable foe. When their soldiers were forced to charge toward her warhorse, hesitation and fear flickered across their faces, allowing her unit to retreat slowly, though with great difficulty.
But soon, another unit of soldiers wielding Hook Scythe Spears advanced. Their weapons were different—long spears with crescent-shaped scythes attached, capable of both thrusting and slashing from a distance.
Xie Wu's face paled at the sight of them. "Watch out!" he shouted to Fan Changyu.
The rebel soldiers worked in tandem—one group stood upright, thrusting their spears toward Fan Changyu on horseback, while another knelt, sweeping their Hook Scythe Spears toward the legs of her steed.Even though Xie Wu and the others behind her did their best to fend off the enemy soldiers, Fan Changyu's warhorse had its legs slashed and collapsed with a whinny.
As Fan Changyu was thrown off, countless rebels swarmed toward her like hyenas drawn to the scent of blood, thrusting their spears at her.
Using the banner on horseback to brace herself, she vaulted into the air, kicking a circle of rebels in their breastplates before landing steadily.
Her hands were slick with blood, making it impossible to grip the black iron hilt of her Horse-Cutting Sword. The banner was about ten feet long, its pole tipped with a spearhead, so she rolled the flag tightly around the pole and wielded it as a weapon.
Any soldier who got within five paces of her was swept away by the banner.
By then, Xie Wu had fought his way to her. As the spearhead of the vanguard, Fan Changyu was like the lead goose in flight—undoubtedly the most exhausted.
Her stamina was nearly spent. Xie Wu snatched the banner from her hands, his once-delicate face now smeared with blood, making it impossible to tell whose it was—his or the enemy's.
Gasping for breath, he said, "Squad leader, I'll lead the retreat!"
The banner unfurled in his grasp, fluttering in the wind once more, guiding the Jizhou troops to rally behind them.
Fan Changyu, drained of strength, leaned on her Horse-Cutting Sword, panting. A rebel tried to ambush her from behind, but Guo Baihu roared and swung his blade, nearly cleaving the man in two.
Fan Changyu glanced back. Half of Guo Baihu's face was hidden beneath his thick beard, only his bloodshot eyes gleaming with ferocity. "I said I wouldn't give a damn about you once we hit the battlefield, but you didn't shame me! Even if I die here today, this fight was worth it!"
Without warning, Fan Changyu swung her Horse-Cutting Sword at him, startling Guo Baihu into a cold sweat.
The next moment, a spray of blood drenched half his shoulder.
He stiffened, turning to see the rebel who had silently crept up behind him, sword raised—only to be cut down by Fan Changyu before he could strike.
His thick beard twitched, and he refocused, shouting at Fan Changyu, "We're even!"
Fan Changyu didn’t respond. Her hands were still slick with blood, making the sword hilt slippery, and her fingers were so weak she could barely grip the blade.
Her lips were dry and cracked, and she had no energy left for words.
She tore a strip of cloth from her battle robe and wrapped it tightly around her hand before gripping the sword hilt again.
Xie Wu, holding the banner, was a moving target. Countless blades and spears struck at him—he dodged the fatal blows, but the accumulation of lesser wounds left half his battle robe soaked in blood.
When a rebel officer charged on horseback, spear aimed at Xie Wu’s life, Xie Wu had just swung the banner to drive back the surrounding soldiers—he had no time to block or evade.
Fan Changyu lunged forward, just as she had once saved him from Shi Hu’s warhammer at First Line Gorge, using her Horse-Cutting Sword to parry the officer’s thrust.
The prolonged battle had left Xie Wu dizzy. He had to stay close to Fan Changyu—in this army, if she bore the brunt of the fighting, then he was the second most exhausted.Not only did he have to look out for himself, but he also had to constantly monitor the situation around Fan Changyu.
Seeing Fan Changyu block that spear thrust for him, he instinctively called out, "Squad leader..."
Fan Changyu shoved him backward into the ranks of the advancing Jizhou troops and snapped, "Get behind me!"
In the same breath, the blade of her Horse-Cutting Sword clashed violently with the spear tip of the young general on horseback, sending sparks flying.
The force of Fan Changyu's strike sent the young general reeling backward, throwing his attack off by half a beat. Before he could even process the shock of her immense strength, Fan Changyu had already crouched low and slashed at the legs of his horse.
The Horse-Cutting Sword's blade was slender and razor-sharp, and combined with Fan Changyu's formidable strength, the warhorse's front legs were severed cleanly. As the beast collapsed forward in a gush of blood, the young general was flung from its back by the momentum.
Fan Changyu swept her blade sideways once more, and the young general's head tumbled to the ground with a dull thud.
Guo Baihu, who had been gripping his Crescent Blade and preparing to rush to her aid, gulped and muttered to Xie Wu, "Sweet mother of mercy, how is she this strong?"
But Xie Wu didn’t even respond. Though worried for Fan Changyu's safety, he couldn’t easily move to her side while carrying the flag—a living target. Instead, he shoved the banner into Guo Baihu’s hands and said, "The flag is yours now."
Without waiting for a reply, he snatched up a long saber and charged forward, joining Fan Changyu in clearing a path for the army.
Guo Butcher glanced down at the bloodstained banner in his hands—who knew how many lives had been lost beneath it—and cursed loudly, "Do I look like the kind of man who hides in the back holding a damn flag?"
He promptly passed the banner to a soldier behind him and barked, "You lot, protect the vanguard flag and stay close!"
With that, he swung his broadsword and cut down a rebel soldier, then hurried after Fan Changyu and Xie Wu, hacking his way forward while growling, "I’m the damn Baihu here! You little brats think you can charge ahead of me?"
The soldiers behind him were momentarily bewildered, but the wounded officers among them understood that the flag was a crucial beacon in the chaotic battlefield—it couldn’t be lost. They quickly ordered a hundred or so men to form a protective circle around it.
The rest maintained their wedge formation on the outer edges, clinging tightly to the bloody path Fan Changyu and the others had carved out. Like ants huddling together in a fire, they slowly pushed their way through the rebel encirclement.
OpenNovel