When Lord Jingnan's flag appeared from the west, everything, in fact, had already been decided.
Even though this army had been on the march for many days and were utterly exhausted—both n and horses mustering their last bit of strength—it was truly enough.
Last night, the wild people tried their utmost to breach Snow Sea Pass. They gnawed at it all night but, in the end, still couldn't break through. The cries as they retreated at dawn had already announced their fate.
It wasn't the heavens, nor the Yan Army; it was they themselves who had pronounced their own verdict.
Therefore, without stopping, camping, or scouting, without any specific tactics, much less any unusual pre-battle orders, Tian Wujing, seated on his Pixiu, simply pointed his Kunwu sword toward the wild people's camp.
Then, the Yan Army knights behind him squeezed out the last of their strength and began to charge.
Before the hoofbeats of the Yan people even reached the wild people's camp, so had already begun to flee. Of those who remained, many had already knelt, dropped their weapons, and surrendered.
Although Lord Jingnan had ordered no prisoners be taken, the Yan Army did not rush to kill captives at this ti. Instead, they continued to pursue the wild people who attempted to resist or still maintained so semblance of formation.
At this ti, the city gates of Snow Sea Pass were opened from within. The Shengle Army galloped out. Having defended the city walls for so many days, they finally reverted to their true identity as cavalry, echoing Lord Jingnan's Yan Army as they charged into battle.
The fatigue from a night of defending the city was unfelt. They knew only that their perseverance and dedication had finally reaped their rewards today. This joy and imnse sense of accomplishnt made them incredibly excited. Furthermore, their steeds were still full of energy. Before long, under Liang Cheng's leadership, they joined with the Yan Army arriving from the west.
The wild people were terrified and dispirited. Even the Ten Thousand Households Chiefs, the so-called heads of the large wild people tribes, lowered their tribal flags and knelt.
They were in despair.
The fleeing army had already had their courage shattered by Lord Jingnan's elite Northern Peace and Jingnan forces along the Wang River. Then, they were relentlessly pursued by an army Tian Wujing personally led.
They had arrived here less than a day ahead of the pursuing army. Seeing the Yan people's flag hoisted over Snow Sea Pass delivered a blow so absurd it was enough to crush them.
Moreover, driven by their leaders, they had attacked the city all night, suffering massive casualties.
Their spirit had not just been stretched taut; it had long since snapped.
Even knowing the Yan people might kill prisoners, they still didn't intend to resist. They couldn't return ho anyway. They might as well let the Yan Army end it here and save themselves further suffering.
After all, destroying an army's psychological defenses is easier and more effective than destroying them physically.
This was no longer a battle; it was the Yan Army unilaterally clearing the battlefield.
The battle lasted until afternoon. Except for a small number of wild people who managed to flee again, the vast majority outside Snow Sea Pass were either killed or captured.
Lord Jingnan, astride his Pixiu and surrounded by a retinue of knights, arrived at the foot of Snow Sea Pass.
The walls of Snow Sea Pass were utterly devastated. Beneath them, bodies were piled layer upon layer.
Fortunately, it was still winter, so there were no imdiate concerns about the stench or epidemics.
Zheng Fan had not joined Liang Cheng in leading the troops out earlier; he had his own mission.
Zheng Fan erged from the city on foot. Dried blood stained his face, and so wounds on his body still bled. He walked before Tian Wujing and knelt on one knee.
"Your general, Zheng Fan, pays respects to the Lord!"
Tian Wujing sat upon his Pixiu, looking at the kneeling Zheng Fan.
In fact, when he had used Zheng Fan's troops as a surprise force, he hadn't expected Zheng Fan to accomplish so much.
To put it bluntly, Zheng Fan's Shengle Army had directly set the tone for the entire battle.
This was indeed a capable man, soone who always exceeded expectations when given a task.
The first ti, when Zheng Fan led the Green Willow Fortress barbarian cavalry south into Qian State, Tian Wujing had led an army to rescue him. At the ti, Tian Wujing hadn't thought much of it, only that this minor Commander possessed great courage.
As for the ambition and desire to climb the ranks revealed in Zheng Fan's actions, these were not concerns for those in power. What superiors feared was a lack of drive.
Later, through further interaction, Tian Wujing found him quite interesting.
Every task assigned to him was perford beautifully. Despite so minor flaws, his rits far outweighed them.
Everyone in this world wears a mask. Wear it too long, and it becos difficult to remove, eventually fusing with your face until you grow accustod to living with it.
But so things can still be seen through the mask.
Take this man before him, for instance. He had once declared in the valley that he would annihilate the entire family of anyone who dared harm his godson.
Tian Wujing believed those words. Beneath this man's many layers of masks pulsed a genuine earnestness.
This was because Tian Wujing did not know that Zheng Fan and his seven subordinates were outsiders—one, a man who had already experienced a "peaceful death," and the other seven, characters who had originally lived in a "comic world."
User Comments
0 comments from readers