The Struggle of Chaos Chapter Forty-Seven: The Conception of the Four Symbols and Eight Trigrams Army

"Xingtian, are we almost at Beitong Gate?" Li Qiutong, bored to exhaustion, asked weakly.

Ren Xingtian shook his head helplessly.

"Xingtian, did we take the wrong path? There's not a single soul around," Deng Zhanxuan couldn't help but ask.

Ever since they left the last city two days ago, the landscape had been nothing but wilderness. Not only was there no sign of people, even birds were scarce.

Ren Xingtian, the one under suspicion, lacked the energy to retort, and merely explained in a low voice, "Beitong Gate is virtually on the edge of the Chaotic Lands, quite far from Tang's heartland, and not far from the City of Chaos. It's the northernmost fortress of Tang. Its location isn't ideal—directly bordering Mongolia to the west. Though not on the frontline, it could be attacked at any time. To the northeast lies the Han Kingdom's Shu-Han City, ruled by the Shu King Liu Bei, whose armies are strong. Directly north is the City of Chaos, surrounded by constant skirmishes large and small."

Yang Ruiyun considered this for a moment, then said, "So Beitong Gate must be a military stronghold; otherwise, they wouldn't build a fortress of such size in a dangerous place."

Ren Xingtian lifted his hand and shook it, continuing, "Ruiyun, you're mistaken. According to the intel I just received, Beitong Gate isn't considered a strategic military site. Tang's main outposts in the Chaotic Lands are Kaiyan Gate in the west and Beiting Gate in the east, both under the command of the Grand General Xue Rengui. Beitong Gate is caught between them, with few troops and none particularly elite—at most, ten thousand ordinary soldiers."

"Then what's the point of Beitong Gate's existence?" Li Qiutong, the rightful Northern Guard General, asked in bewilderment.

"Didn't General Qin tell you?" Ren Xingtian asked, astonished.

Seeing Li Qiutong's blank expression, Ren Xingtian felt his heart sink. Helpless, he explained again, "At its founding, Beitong Gate was intended to mimic Han's Iron Triangle—constructed as a third major fortress, to resist mercenary incursions from the Chaotic Lands and to support the other two cities. But there was a huge issue with its location—it's too far. The cost of transporting supplies is immense, making it impossible to sustain a force the size of those at Kaiyan and Beiting Gates. So the troop numbers had to be cut, leaving Beitong Gate to keep watch over the Chaotic Lands. That's its current purpose."

"So what are we supposed to do?" Li Qiutong pressed.

Before Ren Xingtian could answer, Yang Ruiyun spoke first, "We never planned to be loyal to Tang from the start. Now they've sent us far from Chang'an, out of their scrutiny. We can use Beitong Gate's basic conditions to conveniently build our own army."

Ren Xingtian nodded, "Ruiyun is right. Based on Beitong Gate, we can expand our forces, much like forming a mercenary group, except we're official troops under Tang's name. Rivals and enemies won't dare trouble us lightly. With so little happening at Beitong Gate, we have plenty of time to grow."

Li Qiutong, overwhelmed by the lengthy explanations, simply shrugged, "I don't care about any of that. Just call me when it's time to fight."

Her response earned her two exasperated looks, while Deng Zhanxuan nodded in wholehearted agreement—he hadn't understood much either.

"I have a bold idea about this," Ren Xingtian suddenly declared.

All three turned to him, and Ren Xingtian continued, "I've been studying Qiutong's martial arts these past few days."

"What have you found?" Li Qiutong asked.

"Qiutong's martial art is a rare type—martial essence fusion enhancement. Normally, such arts are divided, practiced by different people, and then fused for power. But these are difficult, like the Heavenly Kingdom's Yin-Yang Blade and Sword, even harder than some top-tier arts. Yet Qiutong's Eight Trigrams Fist isn't especially profound. Do you see where this leads?" Ren Xingtian asked mysteriously.

"Why are you so serious today?" Li Qiutong questioned sternly.

Her comment instantly deflated Ren Xingtian's enthusiasm, and he looked at her, helpless.

"Is it the Military Martial Formation? This seems similar," Yang Ruiyun, thankfully staying on topic, offered.

Ren Xingtian relaxed, "Exactly. Normally, Military Martial Formations don't have martial essence fusion—they simply gather all the martial essence to the highest density. That's why formations have limits: too few, the density isn't maximized; too many, the martial essence can't bear the strain and collapses."

Ren Xingtian was describing the greatest limitation of Military Martial Formations on the continent: simple arts can't handle much martial essence, while difficult arts, though powerful, can't be taught to ordinary soldiers. Through generations of practice, the current formations balance difficulty and troop numbers. To raise power, numbers must be reduced; to grow numbers and endurance, power must be sacrificed.

For example, the strongest formation unit, the Overlord Iron Cavalry, numbers only three thousand. Excluding Qin's mysterious Iron Cavalry, the Mongolian Wolf Riders are the largest formation, at ten thousand, relying on numbers, but their strength falls short compared to others.

Li Qiutong, finally grasping Ren Xingtian's point, tentatively asked, "So we could have a lot of people each learn a punch, then fuse them for enhancement?"

"Exactly. We can base a formation unit on Eight Trigrams Fist, dividing it into eight subunits, each learning a specific punch. The density limit per punch is about two thousand. Then there are four Four Symbol subunits, composed of more talented martial artists, each with a density limit of five thousand. After calculation, we can have an Eight Trigrams Army of five teams, each two thousand strong—ten thousand total. The Four Symbols Army, five thousand strong, divided into five teams, can fight separately or together. All told, we could field a terrifying force of a hundred thousand," Ren Xingtian said, his excitement barely contained.

Yang Ruiyun, the only one familiar with military formations, raised a question, "Setting aside types, tactics, and equipment, which all affect combat strength, why can the Eight Trigrams Army have so many? Won't the martial essence collapse?"

Ren Xingtian remained composed—clearly he'd considered this. "No worries about equipment. I've studied all the continent's formation tactics and can devise the best fit. As for numbers, I've calculated carefully. Each Eight Trigrams subunit divides into five teams of two thousand, pairing with another corresponding Eight Trigrams team to form a unit led by a thousand-strong Four Symbols team. Thus, a hundred thousand troops split into twenty five-thousand-strong units. Each, guided by a Four Symbols team, can form the Four Symbols essence, capable of independent action. Then, a powerful martial leader can combine five Four Symbols formations into one, reaching peak density. If Qiutong advances further, fusing the Four Symbols punches, density can increase even more. That's what I mean by fighting separately or together. Our formation will sweep the land."

Li Qiutong, still fixated on the Green Forest Army, asked, "Can we defeat the Green Forest Army?"

Ren Xingtian replied, exasperated, "If we can sweep the land, what's the point of worrying about them? Can't you think bigger?"

"If that's the case, we'd need to devote all our energy to building this army," Yang Ruiyun mused. Comparing it mentally to his White Armor Silver Spear Cavalry, which could only rank among the current formations, he realized the Eight Trigrams Army could surpass them all. For now, he would have to abandon plans to rebuild his cavalry, since forming a Military Martial Formation demanded huge investment.

Seeing the faint disappointment in Yang Ruiyun's eyes, Ren Xingtian smiled, "But in the early stages, let Ruiyun rebuild the Silver Spear Cavalry. The Eight Trigrams Army is just a concept for now. As you said, there are many issues to solve. We can't pin all our hopes on it."

Yang Ruiyun, reading Ren Xingtian's expression, realized he'd seen through his thoughts, and could only smile, "Thanks, Xingtian."

"Don't mention it. Speak freely."

In fact, Ren Xingtian hadn't said everything; he had already included the Silver Spear Cavalry in his Eight Trigrams Army plans.

The group chatted merrily about their future as they journeyed on.

By dusk, the four finally reached the gates of Beitong. The city stood alone amid the barren wilds, surrounded by nothing but desolation.

"Hey, what are you doing here? This is Tang's Beitong Gate. Unauthorized people, please leave," a soldier atop the twenty-meter wall shouted down at them.

Li Qiutong stepped forward, waving up at him, "I'm the newly appointed Northern Guard General. Get your commander out here."

The soldiers, under their gaze, muttered among themselves, until one left the wall.

A while later, the gate opened slowly. A tall figure emerged—a woman a full head taller than Li Qiutong.

Her raven hair was tied in a ponytail, falling behind her. Her delicate oval face radiated boldness, her presence surpassing most men. Her light armor not only failed to conceal her graceful curves, but made her well-shaped legs all the more striking.

Biluo strode up to Li Qiutong, her voice deep and commanding, "Where's your appointment order?"

Li Qiutong took the document, wrapped in an ornate pouch, from her bag and handed it over.

The woman examined it carefully, then returned it to Li Qiutong, her smile icy and insincere. "Welcome, General Li. I'm Biluo, deputy commander of Beitong Gate."

Li Qiutong, sensing the unfriendly smile, could only reply politely, "Hello, General Bi. You've worked hard."

"Biluo is my given name, not my surname. Just call me Biluo," she said, then led them into Beitong Gate.