In the wars between nations, spies die first. In the conflicts between regions, scouts perish first. In the war between Liang and Mang, both spies and scouts met their end.
By the height of summer in the second year of the Xiangfu era of the Liyang Dynasty, though the great war had yet to formally commence, an ominous tension already loomed beyond the northwestern frontier. Unlike the earlier cautious reconnaissance by both sides, after the furious decree of the Northern Mang Empress, waves of Liang’s roaming crossbowmen and Mang’s horse scouts began exchanging lives in deadly skirmishes—almost every encounter ending in a fight to the death. In just twenty days, over forty clashes of varying scales had occurred, with Liang’s White Horse Roaming Crossbowmen suffering more than eight hundred casualties. Dong Zhuo’s Crow Scouts and Liu Gui’s Black Fox Scouts, the elite reconnaissance forces of Northern Mang, lost over a thousand riders, while the miscellaneous horse scouts from the Southern Dynasty’s Longguan border army suffered even greater, uncountable losses.
Only on this dust-choked battlefield could such a grand-scale, deadly dance of scouts unfold. In the annals of the Central Plains, mere bands of a hundred mounted bandits could terrorize entire provinces, spreading chaos for miles and shaking the capital. Yet here, whether in forward scouting, light cavalry skirmishes, or the decisive charge of heavy cavalry, both Liang and Mang had reached a pinnacle of mounted warfare that would leave future generations in awe.
As the scout battles along the border near Tiger Head City grew increasingly brutal, it signaled that the Northern Mang army—now larger than ever—was preparing to stake everything in an all-out assault. Soon, the grasslands would empty as the entire nation marched south to strike at Liangzhou.
Before autumn arrived, a single battle determined that most of the scouts from both sides would never live to see the autumn winds rise.
Yelü Chucai, the brother-in-law of the former Southern Court King Dong Zhuo and commander of the Crow Scouts, along with Lin Fu, the trusted general of Grand Marshal Liu Gui and leader of the Black Fox Scouts, lured the enemy deep into the Dragon’s Eye Plains with two hundred Longguan horse scouts. A total of fourteen hundred elite riders lay in ambush, drawing in four hundred Liangzhou White Horse Roaming Crossbowmen led by one of their three captains, Sun Ji. Sun Ji died on the battlefield, his three lieutenants perishing in the rearguard action. Only a hundred and twenty crossbowmen managed to break through to the southern edge of the plains, all wounded, only to be cut off by Lin Fu’s two hundred Black Fox Scouts.
Now, Lin Fu’s cavalry stood between the hundred-odd Liang riders and Tiger Head City. Behind him loomed the silhouette of what was once the Liyang Dynasty’s mightiest frontier fortress. After its fall, Dong Zhuo had personally climbed its walls to snap a Xu-family banner in half.
Clad in light armor astride a magnificent blood-red steed, Lin Fu was a remnant of the Hongjia Northern Exodus, his ancestors hailing from the noble clans of Qingzhou in the Central Plains. Though his battlefield merits had already earned him the rank of a ten-thousand-man commander in Liu Gui’s main force—a position that should have exempted him from leading scouts—he had personal reasons to settle an old score with the Xu family. Moreover, with both the Empress and the high-ranking generals scrutinizing every battlefield report, even Liu Gui, who had little interest in politics, had privately urged him to seize this opportunity to rise further in the Southern Court’s hierarchy.
As they chased the fleeing Liang riders, Lin Fu had remained leisurely, neither drawing his bow nor his blade. His two hundred Black Fox Scouts, fresh and unbloodied, contrasted sharply with the battered enemy. Cutting off the Liang riders’ retreat had been effortless.
“Liang’s iron cavalry may be unmatched, and their White Horse Roaming Crossbowmen the finest of them all,” Lin Fu mused from his saddle, sneering. He didn’t underestimate his foes, but as a seasoned commander, he found their desperate, lopsided deaths somewhat wasteful—lacking the thrill of a true battle.
Among Liang’s three roaming cavalry units, the veteran Captain Sun Ji had held the center, Wei Tumu guarded the Liang-You border where two heavy cavalry units had secretly deployed, and the young Captain Li Hanlin’s six hundred riders patrolled north of Qingyuan Garrison, Liangzhou’s western gate. To ensure Sun Ji’s complete annihilation, Lin Fu had reluctantly enlisted the aid of Yelü Chucai’s Crow Scouts, having no faith in the Southern Dynasty’s noble-bred horse scouts, whom the Liang border troops mockingly called “donkey scouts.”
A Black Fox lieutenant eyed the retreating Liang riders with growing fervor. “General, do we really let that Yelü outsider claim all the glory? Sun Ji’s head hangs from his saddle, and our men are green with envy! The Empress values a roaming crossbowman captain’s head dearly—add Wei Tumu or Li Hanlin’s, and you’d earn a marquisate. Surely you’re tempted?”
Lin Fu hesitated, then gave a frustrating order. “Patience. Let’s wear them down further. Just block their retreat.”
The Black Fox Scouts withdrew in tandem with the Liang riders, like wolves circling prey.
Lin Fu’s battle-honed instincts told him Sun Ji was but the first big catch—others might follow. Reeling in too soon risked breaking the line.
Yelü Chucai, leading the pursuit, tilted his head slightly, dodging a crossbow bolt. Behind him, a Crow Scout deflected another with his bow, then spurred forward, whirling a lasso to snare a fleeing Liang rider by the neck. Yanked from his saddle, the Liang soldier barely rose before a sweeping blade took his head. Another Crow Scout, laughing, speared the falling head with his saber, hanging it from his saddle. The first scout cursed but shrugged—his own saddle already bore four or five trophies.
Yelü Chucai grinned, Sun Ji’s dried, bloodless head swinging from his saddle.
At fifty paces, arrows flew both ways. Riders from both sides fell, most struck in the face. Yet every dead Liang soldier was beheaded, some corpses further desecrated by arrows or trampling hooves. The dominant Crow and Longguan scouts alternated charges, flanking the retreating Liang riders with volleys. A few flaunted their prowess, one even dodging bolts by clinging beneath his horse’s belly, drawing raucous cheers.
But Yelü Chucai’s enthusiasm waned. The Liang ranks had dwindled below a hundred, and their leaders—those spearheading breakthroughs or covering retreats—always died first, from Captain Sun Ji down to the last few squad leaders. Watching these elite border troops fight and die in silence, a sudden rage filled him. The veteran of the first Liang-Mang war darkened, spurring his horse past his men to close on a wounded Liang squad leader. The man, his arm bleeding, tossed aside his crossbow and drew his Liang blade, its steel already stained red.
Yelü Chucai’s fresh steed pulled alongside. Before the squad leader could strike, his head was severed with a flick of the wrist, then skewered midair by an arrow from a distant Crow Scout.
Another head rolled, another trophy claimed.
Across the vast border, scouts darted like shadows. Moving a thousand riders undetected was near impossible—only elites like Dong Zhuo’s Crow Scouts could shift hundreds silently, clearing all opposition and severing enemy communications to paralyze local intelligence.
From above the Dragon’s Eye Plains, the two forces resembled shifting carpets, their paths marked by splashes of blood.
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage