Chapter 180: I Dare Not

In truth, ever since the Yan army began crossing the river, Qian troops had been active throughout the surrounding area.

What was strange was that they did not look like ordinary scout cavalry scattered ahead of an army.

Some were clearly soldiers.

Others obviously possessed respectable martial skill and horsemanship.

Yet more than half of them were not even wearing Qian military armor.

They appeared here and there in small, disorganized groups, almost without any unified system at all.

They looked more like people from the martial world.

As Liang Cheng put it, scout cavalry were the eyes of an army during war.

It was rather like later-era strategy games played across a sand table.

Large portions of the map remained covered in darkness, and scouts had to be sent out to reveal the terrain and enemy movements.

How many scouts should be dispatched, where they should be placed, and how capable those scouts themselves were all of it mattered enormously.

Generally speaking, the strongest individuals and small detachments in an army were often its scouts.

For a long period in later history, before the concept of special forces existed, reconnaissance troops and reconnaissance companies often carried out many of the same functions.

That had even produced countless films and television dramas about reconnaissance soldiers, influencing generations of children to declare that their dream was to become a scout when they grew up.

Green Willow Fortress mostly used barbarian soldiers as scout cavalry.

And whether one looked at Green Willow Fortress or the Zhenbei Army, any reconnaissance force capable of operating freely across the vast and brutal desert naturally stood among the finest in the world.

By comparison, Qian's scouts simply were not good enough.

Even those with respectable personal skill found it almost impossible to withstand several Yan scouts attacking together.

Being killed—or even captured alive—was far too easy.

Interrogation revealed that some of these men were not Qian military scouts at all.

They were household retainers sent out by various prominent families to investigate the situation.

If the earlier encounters had counted as nothing more than minor skirmishing, the latest scout report changed the nature of the situation entirely.

A properly organized Qian force was advancing toward the crossing.

Their numbers roughly two thousand.

Whether a force possessed coherent organization was one of the key factors determining whether it could actually fight.

Earlier, both sides had merely traded scattered clashes and individual fights.

No one had taken it especially seriously.

But once an organized Qian force appeared everything changed.

The Yan army was still crossing the river.

Even a beginner like Zheng Fan, who had only just stepped into the schoolhouse of warfare, knew the story of attacking an enemy halfway across a river.

Without hesitation, he slapped the back of his saber against his horse's rump and led nearly two thousand cavalry straight toward the approaching enemy.

Zheng Fan's part in the command ended there.

As usual, Garrison Commander Zheng very consciously handed operational control over to Liang Cheng.

Before ever stepping onto a true battlefield, Zheng Fan had often imagined Heaven and Earth as boundless, with endless room for him to ride wherever he pleased.

Only after witnessing war's brutality did he understand that anyone commanding others absolutely had to know the limits of his own ability.

One bad decision from you might cost many of the men beneath you their lives.

Still, Zheng Fan soon began regretting the handover.

Because Liang Cheng performed no probing attack.

He did not reorganize the battle line.

He did not divide the troops into successive waves.

He merely raised his saber and without the slightest hesitation ordered a charge!

Hoofbeats accelerated.

Every rider began increasing speed!

Because Zheng Fan was inside the formation itself, with the iron tower called Fan Li in front of him, the other Demon Kings tightly surrounding him, and his own cavalry still forming an outer screen, he never actually obtained a clear view of the enemy formation ahead.

Oh, right.

The moment Zheng Fan ordered the attack, Fan Li had patted the little sword attendant on the head and left her behind.

He did not take her onto the battlefield.

As for whether she might use the opportunity to slip away that was her own choice.

Let her do as she pleased.

At last, the two forces collided.

Once armies truly entered close combat, most previous order immediately vanished.

A soldier's entire world narrowed down to the enemy in front of him.

And the only thought remaining in his head was usually three words.

Kill that bastard.

Zheng Fan cut down one Qian man with a single saber stroke.

But after doing so, he froze.

Because calling the man a Qian soldier did not feel quite right.

The clothing he wore looked more like the costumes Zheng Fan remembered seeing actors wear on stage.

Yan favored black.

And because Yan's political and military systems often blurred together, the Yan people did not possess much artistic sophistication when it came to displaying "aesthetics" or "social class" through dress.

"Master, he's a yamen runner," A'Ming said.

Oh.

Right.

Zheng Fan understood.

No wonder the man's clothes had seemed vaguely familiar.

These were indeed not proper Qian troops.

They were likely constables and yamen runners from nearby government offices.

Which explained why Liang Cheng had simply ordered an immediate charge.

A force made up of yamen runners, miscellaneous armed men, and Heaven knew what else was nothing more than a mob.

When facing an enemy with no proper tactics at all, insisting on employing some elaborate method yourself was simply creating trouble.

Just yell and rush them.

Reality immediately proved him correct.

Even organized Qian regulars found it difficult to withstand a Yan cavalry charge when properly formed.

This rabble, barely gathered into anything resembling an army, had no chance whatsoever.

After one cavalry impact the Qian force collapsed outright.

What followed belonged entirely to the Yan army.

A one-sided slaughter.

Still among the Qian force was one civil official riding a donkey.

Yes.

A donkey.

His hair was white with age.

He dragged a sword beside him because the weapon was too heavy for him to lift properly.

Presumably, this mob had been gathered under his appeal.

His spirit was admirable.

Even moving.

But in terms of actual fighting ability sigh.

There was very little to say.

Zheng Fan looked at the old man once.

The next moment the old man's figure disappeared from sight.

Perhaps he fell from the donkey.

Perhaps a Yan rider cut him down with one stroke.

Either way amid a rout like this, the old man's chances of surviving were almost nonexistent.

This was a battlefield.

There was no room here for honoring the old and cherishing the young.

If one wanted to admire a heroic enemy that was something to do afterward, while clearing the battlefield.

The enemy had arrived quickly.

And collapsed just as quickly.

But Liang Cheng did not order a relentless pursuit.

Instead, he decisively recalled the troops.

As the vanguard unit, their most important duty remained protecting the river crossing.

If they advanced recklessly for the sake of merit and something went wrong behind them the loss would far outweigh the gain.

Even if riding farther south might already allow them to glimpse Upper Capital even if world-shaking military merit lay directly ahead they still had to restrain themselves.

As the force withdrew, Liang Cheng rode beside Zheng Fan and reported, "Master, the enemy was organized by an elderly local County Magistrate.

"They were made up of yamen runners, routed soldiers, prisoners, and a group of local wandering martial artists."

Zheng Fan nodded.

He said nothing else.

He did not even ask whether the old man's corpse had been recovered.

During this long campaign south, they had already encountered too many similar things.

Truthfully he was becoming numb.

Qian was enormous.

Naturally, a state this large would contain some men like that.

But the fact that such people had to emerge at all was itself proof that Qian's national fortunes were already declining toward sunset.

Just then a Zhenbei Army detachment thundered toward them from the direction Zheng Fan had come.

Leading the charge was Li Fusheng himself.

Sun Guyi rode directly behind him.

"The crossing has other troops guarding it while the main army continues across.

"Garrison Commander Zheng—bring your men and follow me!"

"This General obeys!"

Zheng Fan had originally assumed Li Fusheng was among the first to cross because he intended to ride directly beneath Upper Capital and personally greet the Qian Emperor, fulfilling the joke he had made earlier.

Unexpectedly—

Li Fusheng turned east instead.

He did not ride south.

Green Willow Fortress's cavalry combined with Sun Guyi's men amounted to fewer than five thousand riders.

The rest of the army was still crossing the river.

But Li Fusheng was clearly too impatient to wait.

They rode east without stopping.

After racing seventy or eighty li a Qian military camp appeared ahead.

Judging by appearances alone, the fortified camp had been built very properly.

Its layout was orderly and layered.

And on the opposite bank of the Bian River stood another military camp.

That second camp was larger.

It also held more troops.

A large cavalry force could not possibly hide its arrival.

Before long—

Qian soldiers appeared throughout both camps on either side of the river.

Truthfully, Zheng Fan was already somewhat dizzy.

In his previous life, his skill with maps basically amounted to following a navigation app while a pleasant female voice told him where to turn.

Using maps for warfare in this life he often felt completely muddled about direction.

In fairness—

Garrison Commander Zheng was not the only person who might have become confused.

Across the relatively small stretch of land between Xishan Commandery and Bianzhou Commandery, with the Bian River serving as the dividing line, Yan and Qian positions on both sides had become interlocked like jagged teeth.

Extremely complicated.

To say that each side was mixed into the other would not have been an exaggeration.

Over the last several days, Li Bao had fought like a madman regardless of losses and completely mobilized the Qian forces in the region.

It had become a chaotic battle.

And only genuinely excellent generals possessed the ability to pull clear threads from that chaos and open a path through it.

Li Fusheng did not hesitate for even a moment.

He raised his long saber.

Then roared, "WILL TO BREAK THE FORMATION!"

Behind him, the Zhenbei Army riders thundered, "NO LIFE—

"ONLY DEATH!"

No pre-battle speech.

Not even a pause to let the men who had just ridden such a great distance catch their breath.

Li Fusheng appeared to be racing against time.

Almost every normal procedure disappeared.

Only the charge remained!

Li Fusheng led from the front.

Sun Guyi followed immediately behind.

The Zhenbei Army soldiers stopped caring about horses that had already been pushed near exhaustion.

They began squeezing the final shred of strength and blood from the closest comrades beneath their saddles.

Liang Cheng turned his head and looked at Zheng Fan.

Truthfully even that gesture was almost excessively polite.

Unless Zheng Fan intended to sever himself from the Great Yan entirely, trying to preserve his own strength and refusing to charge now would simply mean waiting to die.

And if he stopped following Yan at this point what was he supposed to do?

Run over and surrender to Qian, which was already being beaten like a dog?

Zheng Fan clenched his teeth.

Then shouted, "CHARGE!"

Liang Cheng immediately passed down the order.

Green Willow Fortress's cavalry no longer hesitated.

They followed the Zhenbei Army riders and threw everything aside as they charged forward.

Arrows flew from inside the Qian military camp.

Yan riders at the front were struck one after another and fell from their horses.

But those beside them and those behind continued rushing ahead.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Some warhorses crashed directly into the wooden palisade.

Others were impaled through the belly by sharpened stakes beneath it.

Blood and intestines spilled out across the ground.

Riders thrown from their saddles drew sabers, called several nearby comrades together, and continued attacking on foot.

Cavalry on both outer wings began throwing grappling hooks.

Then they used the strength of their horses to tear apart the camp's outer wall.

Li Fusheng led from the very front.

He clamped his saber between his teeth.

After dismounting, he used both hands and feet to climb directly up the fortified wall.

His speed was almost like a nimble ape.

Behind him group after group of Zhenbei soldiers copied their Commander and climbed the wall with bare hands.

A temporary military camp's palisade naturally could not compare with a true city wall.

Climbing it was not especially difficult.

Unfortunately—

Qian spearmen stabbed downward from inside while archers fired continuously.

Nearly half the armored soldiers attempting the climb were struck and fell before reaching the top.

Yet those behind them showed no reaction.

Like a pack of lunatics who had forgotten fear they continued following their Commander upward.

Fortunately, their comrades behind also returned fire.

The Zhenbei Army riders were more fearless and considerably stronger archers than the Qian soldiers.

Eventually they managed to suppress the defenders inside the camp.

By then, Li Fusheng had already led the first group of armored soldiers onto the wall.

They began fighting the Qian soldiers at close range, clearing enough space for more men to climb up behind them.

Zheng Fan reached the base of the wall as well.

A'Ming stood on his left.

The Fourth Lady on his right.

The Blind Man behind him.

Fan Li in front.

To the Demon Kings, how the battle itself developed hardly mattered.

As long as their Master remained alive everything else was acceptable.

Garrison Commander Zheng did not insist on separating himself from their protection to "go have fun" on his own.

If he screwed up and got himself killed, that would be one thing.

But he might drag every Demon King into death with him.

"What the fuck kind of battle is this!"

Zheng Fan roared.

He did not even know exactly whom he was venting at.

He only knew that the small fortune in soldiers he had so carefully hoarded men who had suffered almost no casualties since the campaign began were now disappearing one after another at terrifying speed.

But Zheng Fan understood one thing clearly.

The best way to reduce casualties was to break the Qian army inside as quickly as possible.

If the battle became a prolonged stalemate his losses would only keep increasing.

At that moment, perhaps because Li Fusheng and the first soldiers over the wall had successfully absorbed enough pressure inside, the threat against the Yan troops outside began to weaken.

A group of riders pulled together at once.

Using sheer collective strength they tore an entire section of palisade out of the frozen earth.

Crash!

A gap more than ten meters wide opened.

Unexpectedly the Qian troops inside did not retreat in fear.

Instead, they roared and surged forward, desperately trying to seal the breach.

The Qian soldiers inside this fortified camp were fairly good.

At the very least they were far more willing and able to fight than the garrison troops Yan had encountered in various cities along the road.

"FAN LI!"

Garrison Commander Zheng roared.

"ROAR!"

Fan Li answered with a bellow.

Holding twin axes, he charged into the breach first.

He wore heavy iron armor.

Even his head was sealed beneath a massive iron helmet.

He looked like a maddened bull smashing directly into the Qian soldiers ahead.

Because Fan Li's strength remained limited by Zheng Fan's own level, he was not yet an absolute top-tier expert.

But his physique and natural power were absurdly useful on a battlefield.

Bang!

Fan Li alone actually forced the Qian soldiers in front of him to begin stepping backward.

Zheng Fan and the others immediately followed and charged through.

At this point, the Blind Man could no longer spare mental power for anything elaborate.

He used everything he had simply to protect himself, the Fourth Lady, and Master from hidden arrows.

As for A'Ming and Fan Li taking a few arrows would not be a major problem for either of them.

More Yan soldiers kept entering on foot through the breach.

Gradually the Qian troops attempting to plug the gap could no longer endure.

They began withdrawing.

And at moments like this battle became a contest of raw courage.

The side that stepped backward first often began the collapse.

The Qian army's momentum had already leaked away.

More and more Yan soldiers poured into the camp.

Close-quarters slaughter spread everywhere.

Without the protection of the fortified camp without the advantage of terrain the superior individual fighting ability of the Zhenbei Army immediately became obvious.

The fighting inside the camp rapidly turned one-sided.

At last, Li Fusheng personally cut down a Qian general and took his head.

The already failing Qian army finally collapsed completely.

They stopped resisting.

Instead they began fleeing through the other entrances of the camp.

The military camp had fallen to Yan.

Only then did the Qian force from the larger camp across the river finally leave its defenses and begin crossing the frozen river to reinforce them.

But the first camp had fallen far too quickly.

The relieving troops had not even arrived before the Yan already controlled it.

More absurdly the Qian soldiers fleeing from the fallen camp crashed into the approaching reinforcements.

Then swept them along.

The relief force actually turned and began fleeing with them.

That left the Yan soldiers preparing for a second battle unsure whether to laugh or cry.

Garrison Commander Zheng, however genuinely could not laugh.

During that single brutal assault on the camp, Green Willow Fortress had suffered more than four hundred dead.

The wounded twice that number.

The scale of those losses made Zheng Fan, who had grown accustomed to carefully preserving his limited capital, feel as though he could barely breathe from the pain.

Ultimately—

Zheng Fan still had not evolved into the kind of man who could casually say:

*A general's success is built upon ten thousand bones.*

The Blind Man was badly drained.

He had looked as though he remained safely in the rear throughout the fighting, but he had actually expended the most.

On a battlefield, the most frightening threat was not necessarily an enemy openly swinging a blade in front of you.

It was the sudden hidden strike you never saw coming the kind that killed you before you even understood how.

The instant the battle ended, the Blind Man sat on the ground.

Head lowered.

Resting.

Fan Li's armor was damaged in multiple places as well.

Several wounds had opened across his body.

The Fourth Lady was already treating them.

Fortunately his skin was thick and his flesh tough.

Nothing appeared serious.

Zheng Fan turned his head.

Sure enough at the place where corpses were piled most densely, he saw a familiar, slightly hunched figure sitting down.

There were no peanuts this time.

Instead, the man was wrapping fried flour in something red and continuously stuffing it into his mouth.

His cheeks bulged.

He chewed in enormous bites.

Utterly satisfied.

Zheng Fan inhaled deeply.

Then exhaled just as heavily.

He had no intention of walking over and arguing with Li Fusheng.

Because the one in the wrong was Zheng Fan.

At that moment, A'Ming quietly pulled an arrow from his own shoulder and tossed it aside.

Then he asked Liang Cheng, who stood beside him, "What exactly did we just fight for?"

"Li Fusheng probably just received intelligence that this camp's defenses were thin.

"Obviously, judging by the size of the camp, there should have been far more troops stationed here.

"They were probably transferred earlier to help surround and destroy Li Bao."

"And then?"

"And then—along nearly a hundred li of the Bian River, both major crossings are now in our hands."

Liang Cheng continued, "Crossings are naturally the easiest places to move troops across a river.

"True, the river is frozen right now.

"But moving an army across open ice on a large scale is still unrealistic.

"When we crossed earlier, plenty of soldiers broke through the ice.

"Building temporary bridges takes time too.

"So long as we deploy enough scout cavalry, Qian can still sneak small groups across the river.

"But if they try moving a large army over, we'll discover it well in advance.

"And attacking halfway across becomes much easier.

"This place—should be Westwind Crossing.

"Originally, most of Qian's genuinely capable armies were transferred north.

"Then because of Li Bao's force, most elite troops the Capital Region could still mobilize were sent toward Xishan Commandery to block and encircle him.

"Now this crossing has fallen into our hands as well.

"Which means the Bian River—the river Qian originally excavated specifically to help prevent Yan from riding south—is now serving us instead."

Liang Cheng turned.

He looked south.

There stood the wealthiest city in the world.

And that city had now been cut off from its own armies by the very river that had originally been meant to protect it.

...

"Garrison Commander Zheng."

Li Fusheng beckoned toward Zheng Fan from a distance.

Zheng Fan approached.

There was no disrespect on his face.

Instead, the moment he noticed the saber wound across Li Fusheng's left shoulder deep enough to expose bone concern appeared in Zheng Fan's expression.

"My lord, your wound?"

"Nothing serious.

"Nothing serious.

"A small wound.

"Just a small wound.

"I'll have someone deal with it casually later.

"But this one—is he another household general of yours?"

Li Fusheng pointed beside himself.

Only then did Zheng Fan notice Xue San, who had previously been completely hidden behind Li Fusheng's body.

"If not for him earlier, I wouldn't have killed the enemy commander so easily.

"Garrison Commander Zheng—you truly have many talented people around you."

So many that even Li Fusheng felt somewhat jealous.

"My lord jokes.

"Right now, they're all your men."

"Heh.

"Don't feed me that kind of bullshit.

"We've taken this camp.

"Leave seven or eight thousand riders here and those Qian bastards across the river can forget about crossing comfortably.

"However many dare come—

"I'll make them lose just as many.

"And if they try going around?

"Heh.

"Given how few cavalry Qian possesses, their infantry could run until their legs snapped and still need three or four days to circle around.

"That stupid leopard really played big this time.

"He deliberately exposed a weakness and let the Qian surround him.

"That's what pulled the troops from this camp away.

"Otherwise—taking this place would genuinely have been difficult."

Zheng Fan lowered his head.

He remained silent.

"We really owe that stupid leopard a huge favor this time."

As he spoke—

Li Fusheng laughed again.

He pointed south.

Then said, "Garrison Commander Zheng.

"I told you earlier that I wanted to have a proper chat with that Qian Emperor.

"Now—

"I have at least three full days to chat with him properly."

Li Fusheng reached out and patted Zheng Fan's shoulder.

Then asked, "Garrison Commander Zheng.

"I have the greatest military merit of all to give you.

"If you obtain this merit—then when this war ends, you may very well claim the foremost credit!

"So let me ask you—do you dare serve as my envoy tonight... and enter Upper Capital to deliver a greeting letter to the Qian Emperor?"

Zheng Fan immediately dropped excitedly to one knee.

He cupped his fists.

Then answered with complete sincerity, "I dare not!"

"............" Li Fusheng.

(End of Chapter)