Chapter 53: Ride out with me into battle!

The chiliarch raised his chin.

Gentry Zhang dared not dally, quickly waving a hand.

Several household servants hurried forward and pried open a nearby coffin lid.

A gleam of light flashed in the chiliarch's eyes.

Inside the coffin, silver ingots of pristine white were stacked in neat rows, casting a cold, freezing glare in the morning light.

He reached out, grabbed one ingot, and bit down hard with his yellowed teeth.

A distinct set of tooth marks was instantly left on the silver.

"Good silver!"

He grinned, revealing jagged, uneven teeth.

Suddenly, the air trembled slightly.

The chiliarch frowned.

Within his line of sight, the silver ingots were bizarrely beginning to vibrate.

In the distance, a cavalryman shouted in panic.

He jerked his head up.

On the horizon, a grand banner bearing the character "Chen" abruptly pierced the morning mist.

Followed closely by a second, a third...

A sea of dark iron cavalry surged forth like a tidal wave, the thunderous pounding of hooves shaking the very earth.

The chiliarch's expression shifted drastically.

"Sons of bitches, setting a trap for me?!"

He roared, his saber flashing as it leaped from its scabbard.

A fatal arc of light sliced through midair.

"Ah!"

Gentry Zhang clutched his spurting shoulder and collapsed to the ground.

He watched helplessly as the chiliarch vaulted onto his horse and frantically spun the mount around.

The earth began to quake.

Gentry Zhang lay prone in a pool of blood.

Countless iron hooves swept past right before his eyes.

"Woo—"

The charging horns of the Xilong Garrison tore through the sky.

Hundreds of heavy cavalry pressed forward in a wedge formation.

Lances leveled like a forest of death, connecting into a single chilling constellation of starlight.

The muffled, thunderous hooves of the heavy armored cavalry rolled across the land, vibrating even the coffin lids.

"Retreat! Fall back!"

The chiliarch's pupils shrank to pinpricks.

He was all too familiar with this formation.

This was the "piercing wedge" maneuver at which the Great Qian border army excelled most.

The vanguard heavy cavalry would shatter the lines, the light cavalry on both flanks would encircle, and the mounted archers would finish off the rest.

A few years ago at Yinma River, one of his centurion units had been ground to dust in precisely this manner.

"Spread out! Scatter!"

The cavalry of the Blood Wolf Tribe frantically changed formations.

Some attempted to break through eastward, only to be intercepted by a detachment of Xilong Garrison light cavalry striking in at an angle.

A flurry of arrows howled through the air, and a dozen Tatars tumbled from their saddles.

The chiliarch glanced back as he fled.

Beneath the "Chen" banner, he spotted a commander holding a signaling flag.

Wherever the flag pointed, several centurion units acted like sharp blades, precisely reaping the lagging cavalrymen.

"Circumvent with me!"

His curved saber lashed fiercely against the horse's flank.

The black steed felt the pain and bolted forward like an arrow released from a bow.

More than thirty personal guards scrambled to keep pace, the dust kicked up by their hooves churning like a yellow dragon.

***

On a distant high slope, Pang Dabiao knelt on one knee. "General, the Tatars are changing direction!"

General Chen stroked his beard with a cold smile and extended his right hand. "Bring me my bronze whip."

"General! For such stray dogs, why trouble yourself?" Pang Dabiao cupped his fists, requesting the assignment. "Leave this military merit to your subordinate!"

Without waiting for a response, he sprang abruptly to his feet, his iron armor clanging loudly.

"Flag Unit Bing, charge with me!"

"Understood!"

Fifty personal guard cavalrymen echoed in unison.

Pang Dabiao vibrated his long spear, and amidst the neighing of warhorses, they formed an arrowhead formation.

The spear tassels were red as blood, bursting into countless crimson clouds in the wind.

Two torrents of iron charged toward one another.

The chiliarch stayed low against his horse's back, his eyes locked fixedly on the rapidly approaching spear tips.

Just as the horses were about to cross paths, he suddenly yanked hard on the reins.

"Whinny—"

The black steed's body swerved to the side, grazing past Pang Dabiao's spear.

The instant the warhorses brushed past each other, the chiliarch's curved saber slashed toward Pang Dabiao's face!

"Clang—" Sparks flew in all directions.

Pang Dabiao blocked horizontally with his spear shaft, yet the iron-forged shaft was chipped with a dent.

The webbing of his hand went numb, almost causing him to lose his grip, but utilizing the momentum of his horse, he leaned backward, his spear tip striking upward toward the enemy's back like a venomous snake.

The chiliarch jerked to the side, the spear tip narrowly grazing his iron horse armor and kicking up a streak of sparks.

Muffled grunts rang out one after another.

As the iron lance formation swept past, the Tatar guards fell from their saddles in succession.

Pang Dabiao's spear struck like a dragon, aiming straight for the chiliarch's heart.

In a flash of lightning, a personal guard suddenly lunged in from an angle, sacrificing himself to hurl his body onto the spear tip!

"Thud!"

The moment the spear pierced completely through his chest, the chiliarch's curved saber was already descending toward Pang Dabiao's neck!

Pang Dabiao abruptly lowered his head.

"Scree—"

The blade sliced open the iron gorget of his armor, tearing a bloody gash across his right shoulder.

Pang Dabiao grunted, refusing to retreat. Instead, leveraging his forward momentum, he thrust the spear fiercely forward!

"Thud!"

The spear shaft protruded from the guard's back, and the sharp tip drove straight into the chiliarch's chest.

The chiliarch hastily swerved, yet the spear point still embedded itself into his shoulder blade, tearing away a chunk of blood-stained leather armor.

Both men were wounded simultaneously, yet neither was willing to back down even half a step.

Blood streamed down Pang Dabiao's neck, dyeing half his iron armor crimson.

He yanked his spear back violently, dragging out a spray of blood, and swept the shaft horizontally toward the chiliarch's waist and abdomen.

The chiliarch brought his curved saber down in a downward slash, parrying the shaft with a loud "clang."

Yet his left hand suddenly whipped a short axe out from beside the saddle—

"Hum!"

The axe blade spun as it flew toward Pang Dabiao's face!

Pang Dabiao threw his head back urgently, the axe blade grazing past the tip of his nose.

Before he could rise, the chiliarch spurred his horse forward, his curved saber aiming straight for the throat!

At this moment of life and death,

Pang Dabiao abruptly released his grip and abandoned his spear.

His large hand, like iron pliers, clamped onto the chiliarch's wrist holding the saber.

His eyes turned bloodshot, the veins on his neck bulging out furiously.

With a furious roar, leveraging the momentum of the horses, he dragged the chiliarch entirely out of the saddle!

The two men crashed heavily onto the sandy earth, rolling into a tangled mass.

Yellow sand blinded their eyes, mixed with blood and sweat.

The chiliarch flipped over to pin Pang Dabiao underneath, his blood-stained curved saber inching closer and closer to the other's throat.

Veins bulging, Pang Dabiao drove his knee viciously upward into the enemy's lower back.

"Urgh-ah!"

The chiliarch grunted in pain, his grip loosening slightly, and Pang Dabiao seized the chance to draw a dagger, plunging it "thud" into the other's thigh.

As blood spurted forth, he executed a powerful kip-up, reversing their positions to pin the chiliarch beneath him.

With iron fists, he delivered three heavy blows straight to the face!

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The helmet shattered, the bridge of the nose caved in.

The chiliarch grinned hideously and spat out a mouthful of bloody froth. "Again!"

"You speak Han Chinese?"

Pang Dabiao was momentarily stunned, then swung his fists for another three blows!

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Blood streamed from the chiliarch's nose and mouth, his features distorted to the point where it was impossible to tell whether he was crying or laughing.

"Tie him up!" Pang Dabiao roared in fury.

"Understood!"

The personal guards had already slaughtered the remaining Tatars and were standing guard nearby.

Seeing their centurion utterly wreck the Tatar chiliarch with just a few punches, they could not help but click their tongues in silent awe.

***

The sound of hooves gradually died away.

The battlefield fell into an eerie silence.

Gentry Zhang lay supine in the pool of blood, his body twitching uncontrollably.

The chiliarch's blade had cleaved open his shoulder, deep enough to expose the bone.

Most of his blood had already drained out, pooling into a dark red swamp beneath him.

Strangely enough, he felt no pain—only cold.

A cold that seeped straight from his bone marrow, as though his entire body had been tossed into an ice cellar.

His vision began to blur.

Before him lay the grayish sky, circling vultures, and tattered banners whipped about by the wind.

Faintly at the edges of his hearing came the groans of wounded soldiers, the sound of hooves, the clanking of metal...

Yet it all sounded as though it were separated by a thick layer of cotton.

A pair of mud-and-blood-stained combat boots stopped right in front of him.

Gentry Zhang labored to roll his eyeballs upward, his unfractured vision tracing the boots all the way up.

Blood-stained leather armor, a drooping cape, and finally, that sharply chiseled face.

Lin Chuan stood against the light.

The morning sun outlined a blood-red silhouette behind him.

His cape whipped audibly in the wind, and the long saber in his hand was still dripping with blood.

Those eyes...

Gentry Zhang suddenly recalled a pack of wolves he had seen in the northern frontier twenty years ago.

Amidst the freezing snow and ice, the eyes of the alpha wolf had looked precisely like this.

Cold enough to make one shiver.

"Wh... Why..."

He parted his lips, blood froth spilling from the corners of his mouth.

There was so much he wished to say, yet he could only produce a few shattered syllables.

Lin Chuan looked down at him in silence, his gaze colder than the wind and snow of the north.

Gentry Zhang's pupils began to dilate.

In a daze, he seemed to see himself the first time he had ever walked into the county magistrate's office.

Brand-new silk robes, jade pendants jingle-jangling at his waist.

The sunlight back then had felt so exceptionally warm...

A soul-guiding banner drifted down,

covering his unclosed eyes, filled with eternal grievance.