At the eastern end of the Gourd Pass battlefield, where dusk settled like a gourd’s mouth, the yellow sands gradually ceased their swirling, only to rise again. When a horn sounded, the two armies, in tacit agreement, halted their slaughter, waiting for the final confrontation.
A young dragon-elephant cavalryman with a baby face let out a cry and burst into tears. Looking up at a familiar officer beside him, he choked back sobs and said, “Little Flea is dead.”
The officer, clad in battered armor, struggled to crack a smile, unsure whether he was crying or laughing, at a loss for how to comfort the young soldier. This boy’s ancestors had been herdsmen on the northern border of Northern Liang for generations. He had mastered horse riding from a young age. When he joined the army, while other recruits were thrown by their horses ten or eight times a day, this boy could even crawl under a horse’s belly and show off his skills. The officer had been present and witnessed the boy’s talent firsthand, cheering him on without hesitation, and immediately recruited him into the dragon-elephant cavalry. After much deliberation, like choosing a bride, the officer finally selected a warhorse newly transferred from the Fine Steed Pasture. The horse was unremarkable, half-trained, and unimpressive, but the boy took an instant liking to it. Later, it proved to be an exceptional steed, with excellent speed and explosive power. Most importantly, during charges, it was willing to race alongside the cavalry unit. Because of its spirited nature, during moments of respite, it would often leap and dart around the boy, earning the nickname “Little Flea.” The boy cherished the horse so much that he would sleep in the stable, and if the horse suffered even a minor ailment, he would cry with worry, even if he had been struck in the face by a wooden spear during training. In this battle, the boy was impatient, having slain two enemies with his own eyes, and was among the last dragon-elephant cavalry to dismount and fight on foot. How many enemy riders had this young man slashed open their bellies or severed their horses’ legs with his blade? The officer knew this dexterity was a rare talent, one that even many seasoned veterans might not possess.
The officer glanced at the boy’s chin, still soft with youth. He had planned to make an exception and play matchmaker for the boy in a year or two, marrying off his niece to him, keeping the family ties close. A mere child of less than nineteen years, who had not even tasted the pleasures of a woman, had died here today—what a pity.
He patted the boy’s shoulder lightly and said, “When you go below, compete with the brothers to see who killed more. If we die early, we might catch up with them on the road to the netherworld. If we die late, we’ll kill a few more barbarians.”
The baby-faced cavalryman wiped away his tears, smiled, and nodded.
The officer glanced toward a distant black-clothed youth, filled with genuine admiration. No one knew where this top martial artist had come from, but he had fought relentlessly with his life. Five or six swordsmen wielding three-foot-long blades capable of emitting sword qi, and over forty invulnerable giants wielding axes and spears—all had been dispatched by the young general like killing chickens and dogs. The enemy’s treachery did not stop there. First, an indomitable old scholar in green robes had fought the young general hand-to-hand for a while. Then, hidden among the cavalry, a young swordsman had feigned weakness for a long time, only to strike a treacherous blow that pierced the young general’s right chest. After that deadly strike, the swordsman vanished from the battlefield.
The officer was an old veteran, and though he claimed not to fear death, he knew that was self-deception. Men of his rank and experience had long passed the age of youthful passion. Besides, he had a family to care for; it was unreasonable to expect him to face death calmly without cause. Yet, being part of the dragon-elephant cavalry, which ranked among the most formidable forces in Northern Liang, meant that his comrades, whose ranks were roughly equal to his, were braver and more skilled in battle than many other Northern Liang officers. They had fewer ulterior motives, and the soldiers they led were more straightforward. For the dragon-elephant cavalry, from top to bottom, as long as their superiors dared to charge and risk death, they would fight. They had been trained for years, and when the time came, they would not shy away from battle. Those who feared death would not have joined the dragon-elephant cavalry in the first place. The officer himself had risen from the ranks of the common soldiers, and who hadn’t heard from the old veterans tales of the stirring battles of the Spring and Autumn Periods? Such as Chu Lushan’s one thousand light cavalry opening the road to Shu, the The Tomb of the Imperial Concubine’s sixteen thousand riders fighting to the last man, Chen Zhibao’s western bastion wall battle that unified the land, and the siege of Xiangfan—there were too many to count. The officer knew that after the Gourd Pass battle, when people spoke of it, they would mention his name with admiration. These words, along with the compensation money, would be sent back to his hometown, making him worthy of the ancestral tablets he had knelt before in childhood. In the future, his own children would be able to hold their heads high.
The red-armored cavalry of Dong Zhuo had fewer than six hundred remaining soldiers. What kept them fighting to the death was the two thousand horsemen led by their general behind them and the The Dong Family military law that punished retreat with immediate execution. When they turned back, a stream of red surged toward them, with a particularly prominent large banner. These exhausted The Dong Family cavalrymen, who were so tired they could fall asleep for three days if they sat down, felt a sense of relief, followed by a feeling of desolation. The invincible The Dong Family elite cavalry, six thousand against four thousand, had actually lost. At their feet were the corpses of their former comrades, mixed in with the bodies of the Northern Liang soldiers. Many times during the infantry battles, they had stepped into the thick blood, and each time they lifted their feet, it was more difficult than stepping on gravel. Many armored soldiers had fallen due to a moment’s carelessness and were hacked to death by their enemies. The ferocity of the battle had long blurred the distinction between dying by Northern Liang blades or their own Wild blades.
Because the North Wild had few natural defenses, the North Wild military had always adopted an offensive posture, which led most North Wild soldiers to mistakenly believe that the Northern Liang army, with its thirty thousand iron cavalry, was nothing more than outdated glory from the Spring and Autumn Periods. The eight kingdoms of the Spring and Autumn Period had varying strengths, none of which could rival the North Wild. Therefore, when it came to the Northern Liang army, even the most conservative officers and generals merely considered the two armies to be evenly matched. The problem for the North Wild was not whether they could defeat Northern Liang, but when they would march south and flatten it. The The Dong Family cavalry were recognized as elite troops on par with Tuoba Bodhisattva’s eighteen thousand personal guards, especially known for their skill in feigned retreats. In several eastern front battles involving around twenty thousand troops, the The Dong Family cavalry could retreat a hundred miles without disintegrating. This time, when they heard that the opposing force was only four thousand cavalry advancing deep into enemy territory, who didn’t see it as an easy opportunity for great military glory?
A The Dong Family cavalryman let out a long breath, adjusted his helmet, and looked down. He recalled a popular song in the army: ” The Dong Family Lads ready with swords and lances on horseback， Dead horse on the back, dead horse by the side.。 Little maiden at home, do not weep your heart out.， The youngest son at home is about to perform a ritual again. The Dong Family Lang.”
Six hundred against nine hundred, with no horses left to ride, they faced each other in infantry formations.
The black-clothed youth had been pierced through the chest by a sword, and the assassin had fled immediately after the strike, not even retrieving the blade. Throughout the battle with Gong Pu, the youth had not removed the sword, and the deputy leader of the Army Mount had long been reduced to a corpse with shattered meridians and no bones. The youth patted the now entirely crimson-black tiger, looked around, and pulled a blade from the abdomen of a fallen cavalryman at his feet. The cavalryman was a dragon-elephant cavalryman, and the blade was a Northern Liang Sword, showing how chaotic the battle had become. Xu Longxiang cut off Gong Pu’s head with one stroke, bent down to pick it up, grabbed the hair, and raised it high. The nine hundred dragon-elephant soldiers roared in unison: “Fight to the death!”
An officer saw many cavalrymen holding North Wild blades and ordered grimly, “Change blades!”
There were no horses left, only nine hundred Northern Liang Sword.
The six hundred Dong Zhuo cavalry also changed blades simultaneously.
Dong Zhuo was not a general who liked to lead charges personally, but by this point in the Gourd Pass battle, he had no choice but to fight. In his heart, he also wanted to personally kill dozens of dragon-elephant cavalrymen. Regardless of how much the Southern Court despised Dong Zhuo’s character, they could not deny his talent as a general. Even the Grand General Liu Gui had elevated this young man, who occasionally argued stubbornly, to the level of Gu Jiantang and Chen Zhibao, believing that Dong Zhuo would continue to rise in the inevitable grand war between the North Wild and the Liyang Dynasty, becoming another military pillar of the North Wild after Tuoba Bodhisattva. Dong Zhuo held the Green Spring spear and charged at the forefront, his eyes fixed on the gradually weakening prey—Xu Longxiang, the second son of the Butcher of Men.
Everyone knew that Dong Zhuo was a coward who feared death, but this did not mean his combat abilities were mediocre. To support him, the Army Mount had invested heavily, providing most of the Penglai bearers, a third of the guest warriors, and even the North Wild Vajra the First, the old master Gong Pu. This team of assassins had failed to wear down the black-clothed youth, especially with the help of the chief killer from Zhu Wang. Dong Zhuo had to admit defeat. Any other person at the Fingers’ Heaven level would have died twice over by now. Dong Zhuo had long known that he would have to cling to his father-in-law’s leg and beg him to come out personally.
At this point, there was no use dwelling on it. Dong Zhuo was not someone who could not let go. His bottom line was to sacrifice another thousand horsemen to wear down Xu Longxiang to death.
The battlefield was littered with corpses, which slowed the cavalry’s charge.
The six hundred Dong Zhuo infantry cavalry merely held back the nine hundred dragon-elephant soldiers without engaging in prolonged combat. When the two thousand cavalry approached, they quickly moved to the sides, clearing a path for the charge.
The two thousand horsemen surged like a flood, sweeping over the nine hundred reefs.
It was like the autumn harvest in the central plains.
This brutal and unrelenting strategy of waiting for the enemy to tire yielded predictable and significant results.
In a single round, nearly two hundred dragon-elephant soldiers were killed, while the The Dong Family lost only eighty riders.
Dong Zhuo’s Green Spring spear easily pierced and injured dozens of exhausted infantrymen.
Half of the eighty casualties were torn apart by the black-clothed youth, along with their horses.
After piercing through the entire infantry formation, Dong Zhuo turned his horse and looked at the battered but still standing reef. Even Dong Zhuo, known for his ruthlessness, felt an indescribable emotion. Would his six thousand The Dong Family soldiers have to face such a Northern Liang army directly? Even if he eventually became the sole power in the Southern Court, how many would remain? The The Dong Family army was his lifeblood, cultivated over ten years. Each soldier lost was irreplaceable, and the vacancies were hard to fill. The idea of sustaining the army through continuous warfare while fighting Gu Jiantang in the east was still feasible, but facing the Northern Liang iron cavalry, Dong Zhuo lacked confidence.
Dong Zhuo launched a second wave of charges and also dispatched hundreds of riders to flank and harass, giving the remaining dragon-elephant soldiers no chance to catch their breath.
The baby-faced cavalryman glanced at the familiar officer beside him, who had just been pierced by a spear after killing two riders. He showed no sorrow, gripping the Northern Liang Sword tightly.
Little Flea was dead, the old sergeant who always told dirty jokes was dead, and now the officer was dead.
They were all dead.
It must be his turn now.
He grinned.
After the second wave of charges, another three hundred dragon-elephant soldiers fell.
When Dong Zhuo was about to completely eliminate this stubborn Northern Liang force, instead of charging first, the black-clothed youth began running toward him.
Was he trying to buy time with his life?
Dong Zhuo narrowed his eyes, clacking his teeth together. By now, the Valley of Departure army should have arrived to clean up the battlefield.
The yellow sands of the Gourd Pass rose suddenly.
In the world, only white horses and white armor were visible.
Dong Zhuo spat fiercely, glaring and cursing, “Damn you Huang Songpu, Liu Gui, Yang Yuanzan, and all your ancestors for eighteen generations! You tricked me into fighting the Snow Dragon Cavalry to the death!”
Without hesitation, Dong Zhuo roared, “Sergeants, dismount, give your horses to the infantry brothers. Retreat!”
The general in white armor and silver spear arrived at the battlefield, glanced at the two thousand Dong Zhuo soldiers, and did not pursue.
He walked up to the black-clothed youth, who had a sword embedded in his chest, and respectfully said, “General, I am Yuan Zuozong, reporting for duty.”
The youth merely tilted his head and asked, “Where is my brother?”
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