OBS Chapter 5: The commander-in-chief led 1 personal guards to charge up the mountain!
Chapter 5: The commander-in-chief led 1 personal guards to charge up the mountain!
"Thirty thousand vanguard troops from the Northern Barbarians?"
Liu Jingshuang's hand was already on the hilt of the knife, her whole body like a fully drawn bow.
She turned to the old lady and spoke very quickly:
"Mother, it's only a hundred li from Canglang Pass to Yanmen Pass. Cavalry can cover it in half a day at a rapid pace. I must go immediately—"
"What's the rush?"
The old lady's voice wasn't loud, but it completely shut down Liu Jingshuang's next words.
She sat on a low stool beside the carriage, her iron cane resting on her lap, and glanced at the scout covered in blood.
"The fact that 30,000 cavalrymen broke through the Canglang Pass shows that the Northern Rong's vanguard this time was the elite of the elite. We would have been the ones to suffer in a head-on confrontation."
Her tone was flat, as if she were talking about today's weather.
"Jing Shuang, you take 30,000 cavalrymen ahead and head to Yanmen Pass."
Liu Jingshuang looked up.
"Do not seek merit, and do not underestimate the enemy."
The old lady looked at her and spoke clearly, word by word:
"Hold the pass tight until the main force arrives."
"Yes."
Liu Jingshuang didn't waste any words.
He knelt on one knee, clasped his hands in acceptance of the order, and stood up swiftly and decisively.
She strode towards the reviewing stand without even turning her head.
The sound of horns tore through the biting morning wind.
Thirty thousand cavalrymen assembled in a very short time, their hooves thundering across the frozen earth, raising clouds of dust that blotted out the sun.
The dust kicked up by the banner, embroidered with a golden tiger, had not yet settled by the time it disappeared below the northern horizon.
Wei Zhao sat on horseback, watching the cloud of dust disappear into the distance.
fast.
too fast.
From the moment the scouts brought the news to the moment the 30,000 cavalrymen set off, less than a quarter of an hour had passed.
Liu Jingshuang's speed in deploying troops was as fast as if she had pressed the fast-forward button.
He withdrew his gaze, reined in his horse, slowed his pace, and landed beside the old lady's carriage.
"Sister-in-law... Is General Liu in danger on his journey?"
The carriage curtain was lifted slightly.
The old lady was looking at an open map inside when she heard this and looked up at Wei Zhao.
The gaze lingered on his face for a moment.
It seems somewhat unexpected.
"rest assured."
The old lady's voice quickly returned to its usual calm:
"Jing Shuang's combat prowess is exceptional; ordinary martial artists cannot even touch her."
"Yanmen Pass is a natural fortress, a place where one man can hold off ten thousand. It won't be a problem for them to hold it until we arrive."
Wei Zhao nodded.
He was completely clueless about the military aspects of this world, and all he could do was trust it.
The old lady fought wars her whole life; if she says there's no problem, then there's a high probability that there really is no problem.
The carriage curtain fell.
The old lady looked down at the location of Yanmen Pass on the map, her finger unconsciously tapping the pass.
There is no such thing as absolute safety.
Jing Shuang's journey will take her against the Northern Rong's most elite 30,000 iron cavalry.
Those were no ordinary soldiers; the troops capable of opening a breach in the Canglang Pass were at least at the level of the Northern Rong royal guards.
But she had no other choice.
The Wei family army has a maximum of 50,000 cavalry, and letting Jing Shuang take away 30,000 is already the limit.
The remaining 20,000 must remain in the central army for protection.
What if the army encounters other foreign tribes' forces during their march—the Western Qiang, the Eastern Hu, or the Xianyuan?
None of them are easy to deal with!
An infantry formation without cavalry is a piece of easy prey.
Their cavalry can keep you at a distance, attack once and then retreat, dragging you out for three to five days, wearing you down without a direct confrontation.
The old lady closed the map and shut her eyes.
old.
If she were twenty years younger, she would have gone on horseback herself.
……
The army marched for half a month.
Wei Zhao had never experienced anything like this in his life—no, in both his lives combined.
We set off before dawn every day, riding on horseback all day long, our buttocks aching from the chafing, and our inner thighs covered in bloody welts.
We camped for two hours at night, then set off again before dawn.
The physical constitution granted by the God of Slaughter template prevented him from falling off his horse, but that was all.
By the tenth day, he had learned to nap on horseback.
half a month.
When the outline of Yanmen Pass finally came into view, Wei Zhao's first reaction was not excitement.
It was like a bucket of ice water being poured over your head and toes.
There was no supporting army.
There were no scouts to guide them.
There was nothing there.
The gate of Yanmen Pass, a massive gate made of iron-clad wood and three feet thick, was smashed to pieces.
The door panels lay scattered on the ground, covered in dried black bloodstains.
It's even more unwatchable inside the pass.
Corpses lay scattered haphazardly on the street, a mixture of Wei family soldiers' and Northern Rong people's bodies.
Some of the corpses remained in fighting postures, with knives still stuck in each other's bodies, both frozen in place.
The walls were riddled with arrow holes and knife marks. Several houses were reduced to charred skeletons, the thick smoke still lingering.
The air wasn't filled with the smell of smoke.
It smells of blood.
The stench of blood was so strong it was nauseating.
Wei Zhao's stomach churned.
He swallowed hard to suppress his saliva, but his hand gripped the reins tightly without his control.
This is war.
It's not the thrilling scene of two armies clashing or generals dueling in historical novels.
It was a severed limb, internal organs, a fly, and a human body that had begun to rot and swell.
In the distance, in the central area of Yanmen Pass, shouts of battle still echoed.
Scattered, intermittent sounds, like the last roars of a trapped beast.
Wei Zhao's blood rushed to his head.
Liu Jingshuang is still inside.
She's still hitting.
This thought pierced through all fear and hesitation. Without thinking, he felt as if something had given him a push—
"kill!"
He himself did not expect that he could shout so loudly.
My throat felt like it was being torn apart, but the sound did travel out and exploded over the ruined fortress.
"All troops, follow me to kill the enemy! Support General Liu! Quickly!!"
The ten thousand guards behind him moved almost as soon as he finished speaking.
These men are the most elite troops of the Wei family army; they do not require a second order.
Horse hooves trampled over the shattered city gates, over the corpses scattered on the ground, and over the dried pools of blood.
Wei Zhao, gripping his long sword, charged at the forefront, his white horse standing out starkly against the backdrop of charred black and crimson.
He's crazy.
Sending someone who has never been to a battlefield to the front of ten thousand people is called suicide.
But he couldn't stop.
The old lady, sitting in the carriage, lifted the curtain when she heard the deafening shouts of battle coming from ahead.
A soldier dismounted and ran over to report, his voice trembling:
"Grand Madam, the commander... the commander has led ten thousand personal guards and charged in!"
The old lady was stunned for a moment.
Then he laughed.
A genuine smile appeared on that wrinkled face—the first time in the past two weeks.
"good."
Her voice was very soft:
"Although he was frail and sickly from childhood, Zhao'er is, after all, a son of the Wei family, and he has spirit!"
Someone next to them hesitated for a moment, but still asked in a low voice:
"The commander-in-chief has never set foot on the battlefield before, what if..."
"It's alright."
The old matriarch waved her hand: "Before the main army arrived, the main force of the Northern Rong had already withdrawn."
"Those who remained inside the pass were just remnants who hadn't kept up with the main force; they wouldn't amount to anything."
Inside the pass.
When the first Northern Rong soldier appeared before Wei Zhao, he didn't think about anything.
The knife slashed down.
It wasn't any particularly skillful knife work; it wasn't even up to standard.
But the power granted by the God of Slaughter template was real; the longsword slashed diagonally down the Northern Rong soldier's shoulder, the sensation of the blade cutting through flesh traveling from the hilt to the palm—
Warm liquid splashed on his face.
fishy.
Wei Zhao's pupils dilated for a moment.
There was no fear, no nausea.
Instead, something indescribable surged from deep within my chest.
excited?
not completely.
It was more like the trapped beast within him, awakened by the God of Slaughter template, finally smelling blood; every cell in his body was screaming.
—Again!
[Killing Power +1]
The numbers that popped up on the panel confirmed his feeling.
The second cut, the third cut.
He rode on a white horse, following the torrent of his guards as they swept through the crowd.
When the remaining Northern Rong soldiers saw the overwhelming surge of Wei Family Army guards, some were trampled to the ground by horses before they could even raise their swords, while others dropped their weapons and ran away.
There was almost no decent resistance.
The guards behind him, while hacking and slashing, stole glances at their commander, who was taking the field for the first time.
Wei Zhao's horsemanship was not particularly good, and his swordsmanship was also mediocre, but his hands were steady.
He showed no extra expression after killing someone. He didn't vomit, didn't panic, and didn't pull back on the reins.
The veterans exchanged glances, all sharing the same thought—this temperament, he's definitely a descendant of the Wei family.
They had seen too many raw recruits see blood for the first time: some vomited on the spot, some fell off their horses with weak legs, and some trembled as they held their knives, unable to bring themselves to strike.
The person in front of me?
It was better than most people's first time.
The shouts of battle grew closer.
Wei Zhao turned his horse around a street corner and finally saw Liu Jingshuang.
She was surrounded by fewer than thirty people, with only half of the arrow tower remaining.
The white outfit was covered in blood, making it impossible to tell whether it was his own or the enemy's.
The long sword was chipped, so she switched to a Northern Rong scimitar she had picked up from the corpse and continued hacking.
Hearing the deafening shouts of battle behind her, Liu Jingshuang turned around abruptly.
A white horse burst out of the dust.
The man on horseback was dressed in plain clothes stained with blood, and his face was thin and pale.
The morning light shone through the gaps in the broken city wall, gilding the figure with a golden glow.
Liu Jingshuang's eyes changed.
That figure overlapped with another person deep in my memory.
He rode a horse in the same way, covered in blood, and charged ahead in the same way.
And he only had eyes for her.
But the person before me is different from the one in my memory—
Younger.
And even more handsome...