Chapter Forty-Three: Blood Flies, Earth Bleeds Purple

Murder and venting anger were not their goal; the rewards promised by the Xie clan and the supplies here in Peshawar were. Pei Yunqu cleared her thoughts.

She felt she was making progress.

At least she was gradually able to keep up with Gu Liubai’s pace.

"Our forces are truly too few right now; we can only focus on doing a few things well."

Hearing the sound of a wall collapsing from the east, Gu Liubai stretched slightly and said earnestly, "I have already sent Zhou Luer to have people chisel holes through the houses on both sides of the eastern avenue so that people can barely pass through, while the original doors and some alleys are blocked with heavy objects."

Pei Yunqu figured it out instantly. This setup would suit them for guerrilla assassinations, making it impossible for the Tibetans to easily corner them in any one place.

Especially those armored cavalrymen; even if they dismounted, they likely wouldn't be able to crawl through those small holes.

Knocking down all the houses entirely seemed unlikely.

"Then we can leave a few doors unblocked," she said cleverly. "That way, with a mix of truth and deception, they will be even more clueless about the situation."

"Good idea."

A look of approval from Gu Liubai made Pei Yunqu feel instantly pleased and somewhat carried away.

...

A group of Tibetans stared blankly as wave after wave of warhorses charged out from the city gate tunnels.

At the same time, the sounds of bricks and stones collapsing echoed continuously through the city of Peshawar.

What on earth were those cunning Tang people up to now!

Daybreak had fully arrived.

The city walls were completely empty.

After a large number of warhorses rushed out, the area behind the city gate tunnel was a wide, empty avenue.

The city gate tunnel at the east gate looked like a giant, mocking mouth.

"Hahahaha!"

What drove them even madder was that from the west came the frantic laughter of that mountain of flesh.

"Slaughtering you is easier than butchering chickens and dogs!"

"Pups, come and fight! A bunch of losers!"

Every stance Peshawar displayed was like a Chang'an woman in a tent stripping off her clothes, parting her legs toward the lifted curtain, and shouting with supreme contempt: *Come and fuck me if you dare, or are you just not man enough?*

Facing this attitude, the hitherto undefeated Tsang-dro Tsenpo finally had his eyes burned red with anger, and he threw his leather whip onto the ground.

"Damn it, they're finally here."

An old soldier patted the dust off his face. Listening to the clanking and friction of armor echoing from outside the east gate, he slowly narrowed his eyes in the sunlight and revealed a calm, genuine smile.

Last night, out of their squad of fifteen, only two had survived.

All those people he usually ate, bragged, and drank with were dead; he felt living on had little meaning anymore.

Before going down to meet those people, however, he intended to cut down a few more Tibetans.

Dust and smoke rose everywhere.

Squad after squad of Tibetan cavalry charged in.

Not just the east gate.

Except for the west gate, which was choked with corpses, the south and north gates were also breached once again by the Tibetans, and cavalry poured in thunderously.

It took this old soldier and the men around him only a few breaths to empty their collected arrows, but at that moment they noticed that the cavalry charging in first did not stop, nor did they care about those struck by arrows who fell to the ground; they simply pressed forward, surging toward certain streets and alleys in the city.

"Those damn bastards!"

With just a single glance, the old soldier knew those men were heading toward storehouses and barracks—undoubtedly to loot.

At this moment, the sound of war drums rang out from the western city wall.

Without any hesitation, this old soldier and all the soldiers hiding in the houses launched a fearless charge.

Two tidal waves emerged from both sides of the road, cutting off the Tibetan cavalry pouring in from the east gate!

The old soldier was struck by three arrows almost instantly, yet he seemed to feel no pain at all. He rushed forward and, with two swift slashes of his blade, cut down two Tibetan cavalrymen. The next instant, he noticed that the color of the armor on the Tibetan cavalryman appearing before him seemed to have changed.

His body suddenly felt light, and the next second, he realized he had been hoisted up on a long spear.

The Demon-Slaying Guards had initially made up a minority of the charging cavalry, but now they constituted the absolute majority.

Both they and their mounts were clad in black leather armor, but under the blazing sun, blood-colored patterns faintly emerged on the leather, as if streams of blood were flowing across the surface of the armor.

Countless sprays of blood burst forth simultaneously, splashing onto the ground with a wet slap as fresh blood instantly spread across the earth.

Pei Yunqu hadn't seen clearly how many people died last night, but this time she saw it clearly.

In just a few breaths, at least two hundred Tang soldiers fell within her line of sight.

The blood pouring from their bodies covered the entire road.

Yet those fortunate enough to survive in the front were still pushing forward, and those in the rear were charging ahead as well.

How many people did they have in total?

Xu Tuibei's voice still seemed to echo in her ears: *"There are still over two thousand people in the city who can fight to the death."*

Pei Yunqu did not consider herself someone easily swayed by emotion, but at this moment, her vision instantly blurred.

Her feet began to move involuntarily toward the blood-soaked avenue, completely ignoring her commands.

However, a strong hand pulled her back.

Gu Liubai said coldly, "It is not yet time."

She bit her lower lip fiercely, her teeth sinking into the flesh.

She couldn't ponder what Gu Liubai was waiting for at this moment, but she knew Gu Liubai must be right. She also firmly believed that even if everyone in the city ultimately died in battle, he would make these Tibetans pay a heavy enough price.

Gu Liubai was calculating the number of Demon-Slaying Guards.

Through the number of Demon-Slaying Guards entering the battlefield, he could determine whether his judgment of the undefeated Tsang-dro Tsenpo was correct or wrong.

Every preliminary guess had to be verified by facts.

If the number of Demon-Slaying Guards charging through the east gate exceeded two thousand, it would prove that this Tibetan leader was not as he had anticipated; no matter how reluctant he might be, he would then have no choice but to let the Yin Mountain wolfpack help him flee for his life.

As for the entire city, as many as could escape would escape.

Fortunately, a person's character and preferences are difficult to change.

By the time as many as a thousand Great Tang soldiers lay strewn across the three- or four-li-long road, no more Demon-Slaying Guards were pouring through the east gate. This Tibetan leader was only willing to risk less than half of his personal guards and attendants.

At most, there were a thousand Demon-Slaying Guards.

His gaze landed on a particular Demon-Slaying Guard.

That guard's warhorse had been stabbed in the belly by a Tang soldier. In a fit of exasperation, the guard leaped off the horse and impaled the Tang soldier with a single thrust of his spear.

In terms of attire and weaponry, this Demon-Slaying Guard was indistinguishable from the rest, but Gu Liubai had already locked his sights on him.

Not a single Tang soldier could withstand a thrust of his spear.

From entering the east gate until now, he had already killed eleven men.

"We can make our move."

He said this to Pei Yunqu behind him and then stepped forward.

Pei Yunqu’s own cultivation was quite decent, so she wouldn't become a burden to him, but more importantly, Li Xizhi and the others who consistently followed her would only fight without reservation when she was in danger.

He needed everyone to truly fight to the death, and he didn't believe the Pei family had made no other arrangements besides Li Xizhi's faction.

Kun Jiebu had just discarded his long spear and decapitated a Tang soldier with his saber when he saw a youth lunging toward him holding a short sword.

The naming conventions of the Tibetans differed from those of the Tang people; their given names generally incorporated a character from their mother's name. For instance, if the mother was named "So-gamu," the son's name might be Sowo or Sochi, and if the mother was named "Dala Tang," the son's name would be Dawo.

Names like Kun Jiebu's were different, however.

Among the Tibetans, only high-ranking aristocratic families holding fiefdoms prefixed their names with their territory.

Even among the Demon-Slaying Guards, only a handful of commanders like Kun Jiebu possessed fiefdoms.

The moment he laid eyes on this youth, Kun Jiebu recalled the legend of the green eyes from the previous night, and he fixed his gaze on the boy's eyes.

Even though the youth kept his head slightly lowered, he soon saw that a faint green, ghostly luminescence was flickering within the boy's eyes.

He was instantly excited, yet he didn't dare to be the least bit careless. He let out a sharp whistle from his throat and resolutely executed a massive backward leap.

The moment Gu Liubai locked eyes with this man, he knew he was a crafty opponent.

His brows had just furrowed when, amidst the sharp whistling sound, a Demon-Slaying Guard lunged from the left, slashing toward his neck with a saber.

Gu Liubai didn't even glance at him. He tucked his body inward, dodging the blade while continuing forward, and reversed his sword to stab directly into the man's back neck.

A crisp, light snap echoed.

The Demon-Slaying Guard froze. He hadn't even felt any pain, but from his back down to his legs, all sensation vanished instantly.

He wanted to turn around, but the moment he tried, he toppled over.

Kun Jiebu drew in a sharp breath of cold air.

The Demon-Slaying Guards were Tsang-dro Tsenpo's personal attendants, and the original purpose of their existence was to prevent anyone from assassinating Tsang-dro Tsenpo at close quarters.

Against such solo frontal assaults, their reactions were exceptionally fast.

By the time his whistle sounded, five Demon-Slaying Guards in the vicinity had already swarmed forward.

Yet the moment Gu Liubai stabbed and felled that Demon-Slaying Guard, Kun Jiebu realized that the speed of the other four guards couldn't keep up with him; they were utterly incapable of blocking his path.

"Reinforcements!" Kun Jiebu yelled.

If five men couldn't encircle him, then ten would; if ten couldn't, then fifty would.

The mere thought of Mubu Zhi's corpse made Kun Jiebu shudder with unease. In terms of martial skill, there was still a vast gap between him and Mubu Zhi.

He turned tail and ran.

At that exact moment, an arrow descended.

As he spun around, the arrow hurtled straight toward his face, as if he were actively thrusting his face into the path of the arrow.

At the very brink of life and death, he forcefully twisted his body, and the arrow grazed past his cheek, carving a bloody gash across his face.

Delayed by just that fraction of a second, Gu Liubai had already closed the distance!

Without the slightest hesitation, Kun Jiebu contracted his body and rolled onto the ground beneath the belly of a nearby warhorse.

He had no desire whatsoever to trade blows with this green-eyed youth—not even for a single move.

This had nothing to do with courage; it was purely instinct honed through mortal combat.

"If you have the guts, come roll on the ground with me!"

Rolling on the ground, with the obstruction of warhorses intervening, made it extremely difficult for even the most formidable martial arts to be put to use.

The elite swordsmen of the Great Tang simply did not roll around on the dirt to stab people.