Chapter 61: The Opening Battle at Mount Tai

September first, the start of the new term...

"Reporting!" A lean, sallow-faced, yet robust man strode in from outside, cupping his hands in a salute to Liu Bei and Chen Xi, abruptly cutting off Chen Xi's intention to indoctrinate Liu Bei with his philosophy.

"Wenze, has the grain escort arrived at the granary?" Seeing Yu Jin approach, Liu Bei's expression grew stern as he asked solemnly.

"Eighty thousand dan of grain have all been safely stored in the granary. However, the Zhen family wishes to come and express their gratitude for Lord Xuande's timely assistance." Yu Jin cupped his hands again, his expression solemn and entirely devoid of a smile. He did not show a shred of arrogance despite leading the newly raised army to victory over the Taishan bandits.

Liu Bei glanced sideways at Chen Xi, and seeing the latter's slight nod, he immediately understood Chen Xi's intentions.

"Very well, I shall go and meet this Jizhou Zhen family, renowned as one of the five great merchant clans," Liu Bei said with a smile. "Wenze, stay here. Zichuan likely still has matters to discuss with you." With those words, he took his leave. From Chen Xi's expression, he understood that the Zhen family intended to place their bets on him. While top-tier aristocratic families might be difficult to attract, influential tycoons and wealthy merchants were more than willing to ingratiate themselves.

Chen Xi looked at Yu Jin. Although this fellow had been promoted from among his own subordinate officers, in reality, they had only met once or twice. Chen Xi had simply issued a conscription order and an appointment letter, sending him off to train the new army under Liu Bei's banner. This rescue operation served as a test, and it was evident that Yu Jin had performed exceptionally well. He truly lived up to his reputation as one of the Five Elite Generals.

"Wenze, take a seat. I want to know if the new army is battle-ready now. Of course, I do not expect them to face a regular army yet; I merely require them to deal with the Taishan bandits—specifically, to round up the routed remnants of the Taishan bandits. Should any rebellion break out among them..." Chen Xi finished the sentence with a cold smile, making a slicing gesture of execution without pardon. He had grown accustomed to his position; only after sitting in this seat during a chaotic era did he truly understand the necessity of harsh laws in troubled times.

"If it is merely dealing with ordinary Taishan bandits, there will be no problem. However, there are four major factions among the Taishan bandits, known as the Four Bandits of Taishan. Because their subordinates are managed with military discipline, their formations and valor are no weaker than those of a regular army. If we engage them now, we can only avoid defeat, but it will be difficult to secure a complete victory," Yu Jin said realistically, without any exaggeration, showing no sign of underestimating the combat effectiveness of the Taishan bandits.

"Pay no heed to Chang Xi, Sun Guan, Ou Dun, and Yi Li; someone else will take care of those four. My objective for you is to mop up the scattered bandits. I do not want to see their subordinates running amok everywhere after being defeated. As for Zang Ba, I imagine he has already been crushed by now," Chen Xi said with a smile.

Just moments before Chen Xi spoke those words, Zang Ba had been knocked off his horse by Zhang Fei with a single sweep of his serpent spear, breaking at least half his ribs. Zang Ba's personal guards, who boasted a prowess comparable to the elite Danyang soldiers, were driven to despair by Hua Xiong and his band of psychologically fractured troops, compounded by Zhang Fei occasionally chipping in from the flanks. They had been ruthlessly fragmented into isolated pockets in the mountain terrain, and Zang Ba, forced into a desperate breakout, fell to Zhang Fei in a single exchange of blows.

It must be said that Zang Ba's military command was far from weak. Although Hua Xiong and Zhang Fei had ambushed Zang Ba's stronghold with five thousand bandit troops, they had failed to rout Zang Ba's elite guards outright. Initially, they had caught Zang Ba off guard and suppressed his forces, but once Zang Ba appeared and took personal command, he quickly turned the tide.

What followed was a contest of sheer valor, command capability, and tactical formations. Hua Xiong bound all his soldiers together into a cohesive entity, their battle auras linking densely and seamlessly, continuously squeezing Zang Ba's guards through sheer pressure of formation.

Truth be told, Hua Xiong's tactical command was rather mediocre. His cavalry could basically only execute a wedge formation, but he had mastered it to a terrifying degree of proficiency. He could alter formations instantaneously, even while on the move. This was precisely why Hua Xiong had become the cavalry commander of Xiliang—his shifts in formation were so rapid that the enemy was given no opportunity to mount a countermeasure.

Now, Hua Xiong discovered that while his new troops were mediocre in every other respect, one trait of theirs was terrifying: absolute obedience. If told to change formation, they changed formation. Even if there were blades directly ahead and a formation shift meant charging right into them, these men would charge into those blades without a moment's hesitation, forcefully completing the maneuver.

Having discovered this, Hua Xiong wasted no time. Various formations split and merged, large units enclosing small ones, dividing and recombining, scattered yet orderly. With a numerically inferior force, he forcefully carved up Zang Ba's personal guards. Though he suffered a loss of twenty percent of his own men to achieve this goal, Zang Ba's guards likewise suffered a ten percent casualty rate and completely lost their morale.

This spectacle left Zhang Fei chilled to the bone. The look he cast at Hua Xiong was as if he were gazing at a celestial deity. In ancient warfare, suffering ten percent casualties without collapsing already qualified a force as an elite unit, while thirty percent made them the cream of the crop of the era. Yet now, Hua Xiong had taken twenty percent casualties and his men were still maintaining high morale as they continued to slaughter Zang Ba's guards. This was no longer something an ordinary capable general could accomplish.

Naturally, Zhang Fei could not know that the men under Hua Xiong had already been psychologically broken by him to the point where their dread of death had become secondary to their terror of Hua Xiong. Therefore, whatever command Hua Xiong issued was obeyed unconditionally; the concept of morale simply did not exist for these men. The high-morale slaughter of Zang Ba's guards was entirely due to the fact that Hua Xiong had not given the order to halt.

If Zhang Fei was chilled, Zang Ba was utterly bewildered. To be frank, a portion of the Taishan bandits consisted directly of Danyang soldiers; bandit troops trained by veteran soldiers possessed a combat effectiveness that rivaled the Danyang elites who had originally forged their fearsome reputation, utterly outmatching the current Danyang troops. Yet now, they were being routed by fewer than one-third of their own numbers, commanded by that burly man opposite them—and routed with absolute finality, leaving no room for reversal.

Zang Ba's personal guards had tasted defeat before; when they subjugated the Four Bandits of Taishan, they had been beaten by the combined forces of all four, and later they had fallen to the Xuzhou troops. But never had they suffered a defeat so clean and thorough, with no margin for maneuver. From the moment the enemy began shifting formations, his defeat rolled downward like an avalanche, growing faster and faster until it was completely unstoppable.

Zang Ba longed to know what kind of entity he had offended. Why would anyone dispatch a mountain warfare force of this caliber—troops that could be considered among the elite of the world no matter where they were deployed—just to wipe him out? True, he had claimed a mountain stronghold as his domain, but his transgressions were clearly far fewer than those of the Yellow Turbans. Why was such a formidable army bypassing the Yellow Turbans to hunt him down? Twenty percent—a full twenty percent of his soldiers had fallen, yet the enemy remained as calm as still water, showing not the slightest intention of routing. On the contrary, his own elite guards were on the verge of collapse merely from a ten percent loss.

Zang Ba knew he had reached the point where retreat was imperative. The enemy was simply too strong—so strong that every time he attempted to change his formation, a few words from the opposing commander would shatter his lines completely. This was an asymmetrical battle. In Zang Ba's view, he must have encountered one of the preeminent military strategists of the world. He was not flattering himself; he believed his own military command was not poor, but against that sallow-faced, utterly expressionless Guanzhong man across the field, he had found no room to display his skills whatsoever.

Knowing defeat was certain, Zang Ba ceased his struggle. All that remained for him to do was to break out, smash through a section of the encirclement, gather a fraction of his men, and leverage their remaining strength to abandon formal formations and punch through the enemy's weakest point. As for that terrifying warrior, he never wished to face him again.

Zang Ba succeeded. He accomplished it with surprising ease, rescuing a detachment of about a thousand men. Without a moment's hesitation, he prepared to execute the strategy of a brave warrior severing his wrist to save his arm, leading that thousand-strong force to pierce through the vulnerable northeastern sector. He was more keenly aware than anyone that if this continued, they truly would be annihilated by the enemy.

Breaking out was deceptively simple, almost as if the enemy had deliberately released them. A chill gripped Zang Ba's heart at the sight, but with no path left for retreat, he steeled his nerves and charged forward. Only a single figure stood in his path ahead—a fierce-looking brute bearing a serpent spear. A vague memory flickered in the back of Zang Ba's mind, but before he could piece it together, the enemy's serpent spear came crashing down upon him.