Han Chong gazed out from the ruined tower.
To the west of the blazing battlefield, a massive formation of dark-iron armored soldiers was mercilessly crushing through the scattered embers.
Damn it!
The Helian royal court had played its trump card—the Kheshig heavy cavalry had taken the field!
These mounted ironclads, both man and horse draped in heavy black iron, advanced in perfect, unyielding formation. As their hooves pounded the ground, charred wood and the fleeing Hu soldiers who hadn't escaped were ground into pulp beneath them.
No one spoke. No war cries were raised.
The sheer clashing of armor plates alone was enough to suffocate anyone who heard it.
With the royal guard's appearance, it was like an airtight iron net had been thrown over the surrounding miles, sealing off every path of escape.
Everyone now saw the truth clearly.
Old Zhao clung to the crenellations, his eyes red from the biting wind. He swallowed hard. "General! That friendly force has been caught in the trap! The Kheshig are on the march—they're going to grind them to dust!"
Little Li, leaning on a broken spear with a limp, hobbled forward. "Commander! Let's charge out to support them! Those brave men went in to save the Western Route Prefecture!"
The veterans around him nodded in unison—if Han Chong gave the word, they would drag their battered bodies out of the city and fight the ironclads to the death.
No one's heart was more tormented than Han Chong's.
But the Western Route Prefecture had only five thousand broken survivors left. The city gates were already sealed with rubble. What was there to use to rescue anyone?
"We cannot send troops." Han Chong forced the words out through gritted teeth. "In our state, going out would be throwing our lives away!"
He turned to face the men. "Out there are fully formed Kheshig heavy riders! We wouldn't even get a chance to face them—we'd be trampled into mud! If you go out, you'll only doom the last hope of the Western Route Prefecture!"
The survivors on the city wall clenched their jaws and let out long sighs. "As you command, General!"
One old soldier pounded the brickwork and wept aloud.
Old Zhao, eyes brimming red, shouted in a hoarse voice. "General! We all understand! We're just frustrated! If those heroes fall out there, even in the underworld, we won't have the face to meet them!"
A shared grief settled on every soldier's heart. That allied force was doomed—they posed no threat to the Kheshig. The men could only wish to die alongside them, for the sake of valor!
All they could do was watch the sea of fire, enduring the slow torment as the armored net crept toward the lone force.
...
Deep within the inferno, waves of heat baked everything around.
Xu Zhan sat astride his black horse, the firelight casting no joy or sorrow on his face.
Less than two miles to his side, a large body of Kheshig cavalry was closing in.
Lances leveled, cold glints crossing, sealing off every retreat toward the grasslands.
On the high slope, Ashina Gudu, draped in a golden-threaded wolf-fur cloak, looked down from above, watching this trap close like a turtle in a jar.
"A cornered beast still fights." Ashina Gudu fiddled with the bone thumb ring on his finger, radiating the kind of control that seemed blessed by the Eternal Sky.
"Send the order. Cut off the rebel general's limbs and hang them from the top of the royal banner. Let the Southerners see what happens to reckless raiders."
Soon, the Helian war horns sounded in urgent waves.
The Kheshig vanguard began to level the burning camp palisades, quickening their encirclement.
Just as the armored net was about to snap shut—
Xu Zhan didn't even glance at the iron tide bearing down on him. His black horse executed a crisp turn on the spot.
The two hundred veteran light cavalry understood instantly. Without a hint of lingering attachment to battle, they tacitly abandoned the direction of the royal tent and veered sharply to the north, slipping through gaps in the spreading flames!
Due north was the location of the Helian frontline siege engine camp!
There sat the nine trebuchets that had wreaked havoc all day, along with mountains of gunpowder and massive stone shots.
The weary Helian soldiers guarding the camp had mostly been jolted awake by the explosions and chaos, not even having time to don their armor. They stumbled around the camp entrance, clutching random weapons.
How could these rag-tag remnants have expected that the Great Qian cavalry, already surrounded by the Kheshig, would dare to do the exact opposite?
They burst through the smoke like avatars of hell, charging straight at them!
Xu Zhan led the way, his iron mace casually batting aside two hastily thrust wooden spears, then dispatching two enemy soldiers in the same motion with a single clean strike.
The scattered Hu soldiers, already panicked, saw this suicidal cavalry charge and their hastily-formed formation collapsed entirely. Any will to draw blades and resist was gone.
"Burn it!" Cao Kuo shouted, leading a dozen veterans as they galloped past.
The two hundred riders, mid-gallop, unstrapped the remaining fire-bomb jars and oil-jugs from under their horses' bellies.
Clay jars flew from their hands one after another, landing with unerring precision on the thick wooden bases of the trebuchets.
The ceramics shattered, spilling their contents across the dry wooden joints.
In a matter of moments, flames leaped a full ten feet high among the trebuchet skeletons.
The men moved swiftly, weaving through the camp.
Soon, the beams cracked under the intense heat, the sound of breaking wood reaching the riders' ears.
The great siege engines tottered in the blaze.
By this time, the Kheshig vanguard had just reached the outskirts of the supply camp.
But just as they were about to ride down this insolent force of Great Qian riders, the powder stores beneath had already been ignited by the flames above.
The wasteland went silent for half a heartbeat.
Then—Boom!
A ferocious ball of fire and smoke shot straight into the sky. The violent shockwave hurled the heavy stone shots into the air, and the trebuchet arms shattered on the spot!
Broken timber and twisted iron whistled through the air, swallowing up the Hu soldiers who couldn't dodge in time, along with their tents.
Several red-hot stone shots, wreathed in sparks, crashed down into the ranks of the advancing Kheshig.
The Helian warhorses in the front line, spooked beyond control, reared up, forehooves flailing in the air.
No matter how desperately the riders yanked at the reins, they couldn't calm the terrified beasts.
And so, the unbreakable encirclement of the armored iron tide was torn wide open by this explosion.
Chaos erupted!
The Kheshig line, once so disciplined, dissolved into a boiling mess.
The stillness on the high slope was shattered.
Several thousand-man commanders beside Ashina Gudu looked as if they'd been struck by lightning. One of them half-rose from his seat, forgetting even to calm his anxious snorting mount, staring at the carnage below in horror. "My Khan, how is this possible—"
"Shut up."
Ashina Gudu's voice came out as if squeezed through clenched teeth.
His face was ashen. The cold arrogance of a commander who had everything under control, which he had displayed just half an hour ago, was gone entirely.
The wind whipped his cloak about, but it couldn't hide the fury in his clenched fists!
What a pack of cunning Southerners! Not only had they made fools of the Kheshig, the terror of the grasslands, but they had also smashed his most carefully hidden trump card!
At the height of the flames and the peak of the enemy's chaos—
Xu Zhan reined his horse to a stop at the edge of the breach. He didn't spare a glance for the screaming Hu soldiers around him.
Ahem. Xu Zhan seemed to recall a little girl's favorite phrase: Never look back.
A short, sharp bone whistle pierced the air from his lips.
The two hundred Great Qian veterans sheathed their long blades in perfect unison.
The force moved like a razor-sharp willow leaf, slipping single file through the gap ripped open by the explosion.
Light cavalry, fast horses. Not a single word wasted. In less than half the time it takes to burn a short incense stick, they vanished into the darkness of the open plains.
Their deed done, they slipped away like a breeze, leaving the Helian shouting and stomping amid the charred wreckage.
On the southern city wall of West Prefecture.
Han Chong stared blankly at the artillery camp that had burned to ruins.
Watching the nine trebuchets turn to ash, watching that lone force slip away without a scratch.
His whole body went limp as he leaned against the battlement, chest heaving violently.
After a long while, Han Chong viciously drove his long saber into the crack between the bricks.
His cracked lips tore open a bloody gash, and he let out a hoarse roar that pierced the night:
“That bastard Helian’s trebuchets are gone! Heaven hasn’t forsaken us! West Prefecture is saved!”
