Three thousand five hundred Shadow Rider swiftly departed from a battlefield strewn with corpses. Behind them, thick plumes of smoke rose from the burning supplies. This marked the fifth time that Shadow Rider had lit “wolf smoke” for Northern Desolation at Gourd’s Mouth. The number of Northern Desolation soldiers and auxiliaries killed reached as high as fourteen thousand, with nearly two hundred thousand head of cattle and sheep scattered. The furthest northern hoofprints of Shadow Rider had already tread upon the territory of Dragonwaist Province, before they rapidly moved southward. This latest battle was no longer an initiative attack by Shadow Rider, but rather a northern interception by Northern Desolation. Northern Desolation had essentially sacrificed two thousand mediocre cavalrymen to determine the position of this elite Shadow Rider force, thereby reducing Shadow Rider’s room for maneuver. It was certain that the main cavalry force of Dragonwaist Province would soon respond to this news.
During the retreat, Yu Luan Dao suddenly raised his head and noticed two birds fiercely chasing each other in the sky. At the same time, Xu Fengnian drew an arrow from his quiver, drew his bow like a full moon, and aimed the arrowhead slowly shifting with the rapid flight of the hai dongqing and the Northern Desolation Peregrine Falcon. When the Peregrine Falcon was forced to descend at a lower altitude while fleeing, Xu Fengnian released the arrow with a bang, killing the Peregrine Falcon instantly. The arrow’s immense inertia sent the Peregrine Falcon crashing into the clouds, while the majestic six-year-old Phoenix soared higher. Before the eyes of all, the hai dongqing pierced through the clouds and dove toward Xu Fengnian. With its talons, it grabbed the corpse of the slain Peregrine Falcon and gently tossed it down. Circling several times above its master’s head, it then vanished in a flash. Xu Fengnian discarded the Peregrine Falcon’s corpse and returned the arrow to the quiver hanging on the left side of his saddle. Although the cool crossbows were well-made, they often could not withstand the strain of a major battle and were easily damaged in large quantities. The light crossbows carried by each Shadow Rider soldier, although more durable than the heavy ones in terms of usage frequency, were also running low after five cavalry battles and pursuits. Therefore, they had to switch to the Mounted Archer captured from the Northern Desolation after the battle. Xu Fengnian and Yu Luan Dao both used an iron-bow with a strong Western Shu craftsmanship mark.
Yu Luan Dao looked around with deep concern. If it were not for the ability to sustain themselves through battle, even without further Northern Desolation forces to block them, their cavalry force would have already collapsed. Previously, the five hundred-mile raid on Jizhou was not something even physically strong riders could endure. Even with two horses per person at the time, the warhorses were still severely affected. Long-distance raids pursued the speed and surprise of the attack, but since it was “long-distance,” the riders could rely on their perseverance to endure, but the warhorses could not. Especially at this time of year, it was not the season of autumn when horses were fat and strong, and the horses were not in good condition. The officials in charge of horse breeding in the Liangzhou pastures were not immortal, and they could not change this reality either. Later, after a brief rest, they rushed another six hundred miles to Gourd’s Mouth. Fortunately, they had captured Northern Desolation warhorses at the time, which helped reduce this invisible battle damage to the maximum extent. However, after five consecutive large-scale transfers with very short intervals between them, even though the warhorses could still be rotated continuously, the current situation had changed. It had become a matter of whether the riders could endure being “rushed from one battlefield to another.” The reason they had not yet shown significant signs of fatigue… Yu Luan Dao instinctively glanced at Xu Fengnian, who was dressed in full armor beside him. Yu Luan Dao withdrew his gaze and turned to look at the faces around him. The young commander was filled with pride. For ten thousand Shadow Rider to reach this point, even with Yu Luan Dao’s relatively cold disposition, he still felt a sense of pride. Killing more than fourteen thousand enemies was not unusual. The cavalry protecting the Northern Desolation supplies were mostly second and third-rate forces from the southern border towns. In two cavalry battles, from contact to conclusion, it was essentially a one-sided massacre. But the supply line between Dragonwaist Province and Gourd’s Mouth had been severely crippled by them, and finally, it had drawn in at least over ten thousand Northern Desolation border elite cavalry forces for passive transfers, making them follow the lead of a few thousand Ride in circles. This was the greatest achievement of Yu Luan Dao and Shadow Rider.
On the way south with the cavalry, Xu Fengnian, who had earlier been escorted away by Fan Xiaochai and Mi Fengjie to tend to the wounded Shadow Rider, softly said, “Our Bow is too tightly strung.”
Yu Luan Dao nodded, “The difficulty now is finding a place to stop. Since the two young generals from the east, known as the two ‘ Nabo’ of autumn and winter, have also set out with their armies, it is already impossible for us to retreat eastward. Moreover, the Prince has also mentioned that the intelligence reports have already shown that Yang Yuanzan has ordered Hong Jingyan to lead half of the Rouran iron cavalry out of Gourd’s Mouth to block our southern route.”
Yu Luan Dao looked towards the west. Go west? That was Liangzhou’s northern front, where Dong Zhuo, the Northern Court Chancellor, was personally commanding the Northern Desolation main force, launching an attack on Tiger Head City. The total number of troops on both sides reached seventy thousand. Going there would truly be throwing ourselves into the Northern Desolation’s trap, giving them an easy victory. Even if there were only three thousand five hundred riders left, let alone thirty-five thousand riders, without the support of our own main forces, it would not be enough for Northern Desolation to encircle and annihilate us. Even if Yu Luan Dao encountered the two Nabo or Hong Jingyan’s Rouran iron cavalry, even if his Shadow Rider were to die in battle, he would not go west.
Xu Fengnian also gazed westward, as if waiting for someone.
Xu Fengnian was waiting for Song Dia’er, the leader of the horse bandits. With the covert support of Huangfu Ping, this man had gathered a thousand strong young horse bandits, which might not change the overall situation in Youzhou, but could at least help Yu Luan Dao’s Youzhou cavalry catch their breath. At present, the Shadow Rider were like a martial arts master exhausted from fatigue. If they could catch a new breath, they could fight again. If they couldn’t even catch this breath, then they would only be able to burn out. The reason Xu Fengnian didn’t say this wasn’t because he had small calculations to give this cavalry an unexpected surprise, but because he dared not place too much hope on Song Dia’er, whom he had only met once. If there wasn’t a hidden expert from Liangzhou in Song Dia’er’s bandit force to control him, Xu Fengnian wouldn’t even have allowed Song Dia’er to come and lead the way. Putting himself in Song Dia’er’s position, a thousand horse bandits, who wouldn’t they defect to? The situation of Northern Desolation was currently in a dominant position. If Song Dia’er had thoughts of betrayal and used the three thousand five hundred Youzhou cavalry as a token of allegiance, Yang Yuanzan, who had been driven to desperation by Yu Luan Dao’s cavalry, would probably not hesitate to offer him the position of a ten-thousand-man commander. Even in Xu Fengnian’s view, Song Dia’er, who originally came from the southern aristocracy, would be strange if he had never had any thoughts of betrayal and had stood on the side of Liangzhou from beginning to end. As for the truth of the matter, Xu Fengnian would have to meet with Song Dia’er’s messenger to judge. If Song Dia’er dared not come in person and was not in the ranks, then Xu Fengnian could only consider this piece as having changed color. Then Yu Luan Dao and the Youzhou cavalry, with no way to retreat, would inevitably have to confront the two Nabo or the Rouran cavalry to the bitter end. And Xu Fengnian himself would go alone to find Song Dia’er. Since he had allowed Liangzhou and Huangfu Ping to bring Song Dia’er the power to dominate the horse bandits outside the pass, Xu Fengnian could also take it back with his own hands.
It would be better not to give hope and then let people down than to say nothing at all from the beginning.
Xu Fengnian asked, “How many scouts does Fan Fen have left?”
Yu Luan Dao replied bitterly, “There are now less than sixty veteran scouts originally, and more than eight hundred riders have been gradually replaced, barely maintaining a number of four hundred scouts. So it can be said that the loss of Fan Duyi is the most severe. There’s nothing we can do about it. In the battle outside the pass, as scouts, they would definitely die at the forefront.”
Yu Luan Dao moistened his dry, cracked lips and showed a faint smile, his voice hoarse as he said, “However, our battles have not been in vain. Compared to before we left the borders of Youzhou, the combat effectiveness of the three thousand five hundred riders has improved a lot. If we can catch our breath and fully recover, we dare to claim victory against Hong Jingyan’s Rouran cavalry with equal forces. Before this, who would have imagined such a thought for Youzhou, which was only known for its infantry? If these three thousand five hundred men could return alive to Youzhou, it would definitely be greatly beneficial to the entire Youzhou battlefield situation.”
Deputy generals Shi Yulu and Su Wen Yao had subtle expressions and dared not respond, fearing that Xu Fengnian would misunderstand the commander’s words, thinking that Shadow Rider was complaining about their awkward situation of being trapped in a dead end.
Yu Luan Dao suddenly laughed heartily, saying, “Because of our disturbance, not only West of Longyao River, the Three States of Oranges were severely damaged and lost their vitality, but also the northern grasslands might have to continue to suffer losses. Those Great Siti who had been suppressed by Tuoba Bodhisattva with great difficulty might start to become restless again. They originally had objections to attacking Northern Liang first. In the eyes of these people who won’t act without seeing the rabbit, they are unwilling to attack a place that only has hard bones and no tender meat. It’s not as good as attacking Jizhou, where the troops are thin, and once they cross Jizhou, they can reach the fertile Central Plains with its countless treasures and population, making it easy to plunder. Otherwise, attacking Liaodong and Liaoxi would also be a good option, as it would be a permanent solution. As long as they defeat Gu Jiantang, they can march southward and reach the city walls. Our trip to Gourd’s Mouth, regardless of how many enemies we killed, certainly made Dong Zhuo and Taiping Decree, who insisted on conquering Northern Liang first before planning Central Plains, hate us to the point of itching teeth. Perhaps they are even stomping their feet and cursing at this moment?”
Su Wen Yao lowered his head, inspecting the densely packed arrows in his quiver one by one. Each shaft was crafted from dense hardwood, substantial in weight—these were exceptionally heavy projectiles.
Yet, compared to the arrows of Northern Liang, there remained subtle differences. Broadly speaking, however, they belonged to the same lineage—like “close kin.” In stark contrast, the arrows commonly used within Liyang’s borders represented an entirely opposite philosophy. The latter prioritized range, rate of fire, and strict adherence to the ancient military doctrine of “Three Strikes Before Battle.”
It wasn’t that the latter had taken a wrong path. Rather, most battles on the continent involved infantry clashes, where advancement was naturally slower than the thunderous charge of cavalry. Meanwhile, the feathered arrows of Liang-Mang, despite being propelled by the extraordinary arm strength of northern warriors, sought nothing more than the four words: “Armor-Piercing Death.”
In truth, the Northern Desolation cavalry hadn’t initially embraced such an extreme approach. It was only after two decades of stalemate—and the overwhelming influence of Northern Liang’s superior armor—that they were forced to adapt. Otherwise, with their peerless mounted archery, against most other border armies of Liyang, they could have effortlessly worn their enemies down—like flying a kite, slowly reaping death from afar.
Su Wenyao casually tossed aside two arrows with slightly cracked shafts.
Hearing the witty remark from the main commander, Yu Luandao, he let out a soft chuckle before looking up and speaking:
“Not all of those fools are truly stupid. They also know that without defeating our Northern Liang, any attempt to breach Jizhou and sweep southward to plunder the Central Plains—all the way to Tai’an City—is nothing but an illusion.
How many of us Shadow Riders are there? Yet we’ve already thrown their supply lines into complete chaos. If the entire Northern Liang border army were left unchecked, would they even still have their Southern Dynasty? Who knows—we might even smash the Northern Desolation royal court to ruins.
But principles are one thing. People are another. Everyone hopes to do less and gain more. If those Northern Desolation nobles want to focus on attacking Jizhou and Liaodong, I, Su Wenyao, would be more than happy if there were even more of them! How many fewer lives would our Northern Liang lose then?”
Shi Yulu gave a solemn nod, his voice resonating with grim intensity, “That fat Dong and the Taiping Decree truly deserve death!”
Scout Commander Fan Fen galloped in abruptly, delivering urgent military intelligence to the assembled generals: “Thirty li due south, an elite cavalry force of eight hundred approaches. Their armor surpasses even the Northern Desolation riders we’ve previously encountered—likely the vanguard withdrawing from Gourd’s Mouth. Whether we continue southward… we’ll encounter perhaps two or three more such baiting skirmish units before inevitably clashing with the Rouran Iron Cavalry.”
(Note: “Ride” has been contextually translated as “cavalry/riders” where appropriate for natural flow. “Gourd’s Mouth” retains capitalization as a proper location name. The ellipsis and em-dash maintain the original text’s pacing and dramatic tension.)
Yu Luan’s knife-like smile never touched his eyes. His striking features were carved with years of simmering savagery. With a feral grin, he growled, “Whether the Rouran cavalry is tough or not—that can wait. A bait untaken is a bait squandered. Let’s feast on these eight hundred riders first! Shi Yulu, Su Wenyao—same rules as before!”
Against an enemy force of merely eight hundred, the Shadow Riders have their tactics; against eight thousand, they adapt accordingly. Currently, Yu Luandao commands no more than three thousand five hundred Shadow Riders. *Everything must be as it is.*
*”Good at managing household affairs”*—how did such a notion come to be? Because in the end, the enemies of the Shadow Riders are not just the visible Northern Desolation cavalry, but also the Shadow Riders *themselves*. Yu Luandao must preserve the stamina of his soldiers—their vigor, their spirit, their warhorses, bows, crossbows—every potential loss accounted for.
Now, the Shadow Riders’ archers have reached their peak prowess. But if the battle drags on too long… it could lead to irreversible consequences. This means the Shadow Riders can only wage a *”Three Axe Strikes”* battle—swiftly annihilate the enemy with minimal charges, then immediately withdraw from the battlefield and retreat to a safe zone for rest and recovery.
After receiving the military intelligence relayed by Fan Fen, the main force of the Shadow Riders deliberately slowed their advance, stretching their frontlines into three layers.
In the previous battle, *”At the Bottom,”* Su Wenyao led a thousand cavalry at the vanguard, Yu Luandao commanded over a thousand in the center, while Shi Yulu’s thousand-strong cavalry guarded the rear, escorting a large number of warhorses. Fan Fen’s most formidable four hundred scouts—renowned for their lightning-fast steeds—were the first to charge into the fray, sweeping around the left flank to encircle and ensure no strays slipped through the net.
What Yu Luandao needed was to capitalize on their numerical superiority. Splitting the forces meant multiple simultaneous charges. The goal was to eliminate those eight hundred riders within just three passes—only as a last resort. Never again would he allow his subordinates to charge back and forth in battle. The warhorses of the Shadow Riders couldn’t endure it, nor could the already tenacious light cavalry hold out.
Abandoning the deadlier but cumbersome heavy weaponry, the clashes were primarily light cavalry charges, blade against blade. Even if every rider harbored a resolve to die, on that deadly line where the two forces collided… the corpses left behind were never numerous to begin with.
Yet, under Yu Luandao’s command—beyond the slaughter outside Silver Kite City in northern Ji—across six battles of varying scales at Gourd’s Mouth, the Youzhou light cavalry were ordered to kill during their charges. The cost of such orders? Simply killing… and being killed. Few returned to battle after minor wounds; many perished from grievous injuries.
The most insidious and ruthless aspect of Yu Luandao’s tactics lay not just in how easily the Shadow Riders could secure early victories, but in how few wounded cavalrymen ever retreated eastward to Youzhou after battle, leaving the main force behind.
Shi Yulu and Su Wenyao knew it well. Those captains and lieutenants were all too aware. Yet no one objected. No one dared to voice their doubts.
Even the most soul-stirring frontier poems， Nor can it depict the cruel battlefield where everyone is forced to throw their lives away.。
Youzhou’s cavalry, each warrior mounted on three steeds,
Which warhorse does not bear the blades of fallen comrades?
For such additional burdens， Even the most hardened general, Yu Luandao,， Demanding even more on details， couldn’t bear to restrain。
Beyond the battlefield where the clash had yet to unfold, the 155th Cavalry of Northern Desolation—Ma Lanzi and his eight hundred riders—veered sharply from their path, galloping southward at full speed. Their mission: to deliver urgent intelligence about the encounter with Youzhou’s cavalry to the main southern forces.
Suddenly， From the flank’s rear emerged an inconspicuous black dot bypassing the main battlefield.， This figure dashed like a thunderbolt.， It was even faster than a warhorse at full gallop.。
He drew a sweeping arc in the air, barring the path of the Five Riders. His feet skidded across the gilded sands, sending spirals of golden dust swirling into the twilight.
The five stable hands were momentarily stunned by the bizarre scene before them. A hundred paces ahead stood a frail child with a Northern Liang saber slung diagonally across his back.
The aloof child charged head-on against the five riders. When he was twenty paces from the lead rider, his ghostly movements allowed him to effortlessly evade four arrows mid-path.
Leaping high, he snatched the final arrow aimed at his heart mid-flight. Without hesitation, he drove a fist straight into the warhorse’s skull, targeting the saber-wielding scout atop it. The sheer force of the blow shattered the horse’s head, snapped its forelegs, and nearly flipped the massive beast backward.
The corporal, known as the Horse Scout, lunged forward—only to take another devastating punch from the boy with the blade strapped to his back. The impact sent him crashing into the second rider behind him, knocking both off their mounts.
The third rider met his end when the child hurled the captured arrow straight through his throat, sending him tumbling lifelessly from his horse.
The surviving horsemen, having narrowly escaped death, no longer dared to engage. Spurring their mounts in terror, they fled at full gallop.
The child spun around and sprinted away at breakneck speed. Catching up to a riderless warhorse at the fence, he seized its tail with both hands. His feet must have—
The charging steed was violently jerked to a standstill by his grip.
The tail tore free.
A scream of agony.
Then—desperation fueling his limbs—he surged forward.
(Note: Adjusted for fantasy cadence—dramatic pauses, vivid verbs, and a rhythmic flow. Omitted unclear fragments while preserving the scene’s urgency and brutality.)
The child lunged forward in a single, lightning-fast motion.
Standing shoulder to shoulder with the warhorse,
he casually swung his fist and struck the beast’s flank—
sending both the Northern Desolation scout and his steed hurtling through the air.
The rider, unable to wrench his feet free from the stirrups in time,
was dragged to the ground and mercilessly trampled to death
beneath the charging warhorse’s crushing weight.
The child moved with fluid grace, swiftly catching up to the last terrified horseman—a hunched figure clutching a steed’s hind legs in each hand. With a powerful twist of his stance, he wrenched the warhorse off its feet, sending it spinning a full circle through the air before hurling it violently aside.
The stablehand was hurled from the steed’s back, floundering in the dust as he tried to regain his footing. The child strode forward, drawing the Northern Liang blade from his back in one fluid motion. With a single, decisive thrust, he buried the cold steel deep into the heart of the Northern Desolation savage. The blade slid free with a whisper as he sheathed it once more. Calm as the still waters of a moonlit lake, the child spoke: “Big fellow, that makes three hundred and seventy-nine.”
The newly arrived Commandant Fan Fen and his four hundred scouts observed this scene from a distance. Without stepping forward to speak, they silently formed ranks facing north. Among them, Fan Fen had brought a warhorse for the child. He patted the Northern Liang blade at his waist and chuckled softly, “Young General, how about I bequeath my battle blade to you after I die? I’m not asking for much—just promise to slay fifty Northern Desolation barbarians in my name.”
Yudi Long leaped onto the horse’s back.， Standing with a blade on his back and hands tucked in sleeves.， The blood-soaked child rolled their eyes.。
Nowadays, the cavalry of Youzhou affectionately nicknamed this child Yu Dilong as the “Young General.”
Two days ago, Yudilong was supposed to be arranged by Xu Fengnian to escort sixty wounded riders retreating eastward, but the child stubbornly refused. Even as Xu Fengnian’s face darkened with anger, the boy merely held the reins of the warhorse carrying the iron armor relic of Big Guy, his Northern Liang blade strapped to his back, uttering not a single word nor budging an inch. Later, a lightly wounded captain volunteered to leave the main force, personally leading the retreat of the wounded. Before departing, he jokingly told the young general—who had wreaked havoc in the previous battles—to consider it as owing him fifty military merits from Northern Desolation barbarians. Only then did Xu Fengnian tacitly allow Yudilong to stay.
The child likely held genuine reverence for his master, Xu Fengnian. Even after remaining with the army, he dared not show his face near Yu Luandao and the others again. Alone with his horse, he lingered at the tail end of the cavalry, never speaking to anyone. Aside from accompanying Fan Fen’s scouts to gather military intelligence, he always followed the army in silence, solitary and withdrawn.
On the battlefield’s front lines, the eight hundred riders of Northern Desolation were nearly all slain or wounded after three successive charges. The seventy or eighty scattered deserters were also utterly annihilated by Yu Dilong and Fan Fen’s four hundred scouts. Every last surviving soldier of Northern Desolation was granted a mercy stroke by the Shadow Riders as they scoured the field.
Xu Phoenix, in the Year of the Phoenix, thrust her iron spear through the chest of a Northern Desolation centurion, whose dying eyes burned with resentment. Gently lifting her head, she gazed toward the west. Beyond the battlefield, a dozen distant riders watched from afar, their presence like spectators to a raging fire.
Xu Phoenix’s heart sank. Within his field of vision, the familiar figure was nowhere to be seen.
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage