Chapter 343: Change Weapons and Mounts

In the twilight at the eastern end of the Hulu Pass battlefield, the yellow sand settled then rose again. As a bugle call sounded, both armies tacitly ceased fighting, awaiting the final battle.

A young Dragon Elephant Cavalryman with a baby face cried out, looking up at a familiar commandant fighting beside him. He choked back tears and said, "Little Flea is dead."

The commandant, his armor shattered, grimaced with difficulty, unsure whether to cry or laugh, or how to comfort the soldier under his command. The child's ancestors had been herdsmen in the Northern Liang border for generations. He had been an excellent horseman since childhood; when he enlisted, while other recruits had to fall off their horses ten or more times a day, he could even perform tricks like sliding under a horse's belly. The commandant had witnessed this himself, and the crowd applauded. Without a word, he brought the boy into the Dragon Elephant Army. He carefully selected a warhorse, as if choosing a wife, finally picking one that had just been introduced to the army from Qianli Pastures. It was half-trained, unassuming, but the boy had taken a liking to it. Later, it proved to be an excellent horse, with great stamina and explosive power. What was particularly valuable was its willingness to keep pace with the cavalry charge. Because the horse was playful and liked to jump around the boy during breaks from battle formations, it earned the nickname "Little Flea." The boy wished he could sleep in the stable; if his beloved warhorse ever suffered a minor ailment, the child, who would only grin foolishly even if a wooden spear had swollen half his face during training, would cry heartbroken tears. He cared more for the horse than he would for a future wife. In this battle, the boy was relentless; he personally accounted for two enemy kills among the last Dragon Elephant Cavalrymen to dismount and fight on foot. Who knows how many enemy horses had their bellies slashed open and legs severed by this boy's blade? The commandant knew this sharp agility was a rare talent, one that many seasoned veterans might not possess.

The commandant glanced at the boy's chin; his beard was still sparse. The commandant had been thinking of making an exception in a year or two to be a matchmaker for him, giving his niece to him, thus keeping the "fat water within the family." It was truly a pity that this boy, barely nineteen, who had not even known a woman's embrace, would die here today.

He patted the boy's shoulder and said softly, "Down below, you can compare with your brothers to see who killed more. If we die early, we might even catch up to them on the Road to the Underworld. If we die later, then kill a few more barbarians."

The baby-faced cavalryman wiped away his tears and nodded with a smile.

The commandant glanced at the black-clad youth in the distance, feeling genuine reverence. An unknown top master from the martial world had emerged, relentlessly engaging in a life-and-death struggle. Five or six swordsmen whose three-foot-long blades could generate sword qi, and over forty giant men impervious to blades and spears—fortunately, the young general had dealt with them all as easily as slaughtering chickens and dogs. The enemy's malice didn't stop there: first, an unkillable old man in green robes dueled with the young general for half a day, then a young swordsman was stealthily hidden among the cavalry. He had feigned weakness for a long time, only to unexpectedly thrust a sword through the young general's right chest. After that treacherous strike, he vanished without a trace, completely withdrawing from the battlefield.

The commandant was a seasoned veteran; saying he wasn't afraid of death at all would be self-deception. A man of his rank and experience had long passed the age of youthful recklessness. Moreover, he had a family to support; there was no reason for him to calmly face death—he wasn't crazy! However, those who could enter the Dragon Elephant Army, one of Northern Liang's top fighting forces, and their comrades of similar rank, were braver and more skilled in combat than many other Northern Liang generals. They were straightforward, and the soldiers they led were also relatively single-minded. For everyone in the Dragon Elephant Army, as long as their superiors dared to charge and risk death, they dared to fight. An army is trained for a thousand days for use in a single hour; if one feared death, they wouldn't join the Dragon Elephant Army. The commandant had also risen from a common soldier; who hadn't heard the stirring tales of battles from the old veterans? Chu Lushun opening the Shu Road with a thousand light cavalry, the sixteen thousand cavalry at Concubine's Tomb fighting to the last man, Chen Zhibao pacifying the world in a single battle at West Leibi, the Siege of Xiangfan—there were too many. The commandant knew that after the battle of Hulu Pass, acquaintances would surely speak of it, and when his name was mentioned, they would give a thumbs-up. These words, along with his pension, would reach his hometown, honoring the ancestral tablets he had knelt before as a child. In the future, his own children would be able to live with pride.

Dong Zhuo's army, clad in red armor, was reduced to fewer than six hundred weary soldiers. What sustained their vow to fight to the death was the force of two thousand rangers led personally by their general behind them, as well as Dong's army law of immediate execution for anyone who dared to retreat without order. When they looked back, a fresh red torrent surged forward, a large banner particularly prominent. These Dong family cavalrymen, exhausted to the point of being able to sleep for three days if they sat down, felt a wave of relief, followed by a sense of desolation. The seemingly invincible elite cavalry of the Dong family, six thousand against four thousand, had actually lost. At their feet lay the corpses of their former comrades, intermingled with those of the Northern Liang soldiers. Many times during the infantry clashes, they had stepped into viscous blood, each lift of a foot more strenuous than walking on sand. Many armored soldiers, if they stumbled for even a moment, were cut down by their opponents. The brutality of the great battle meant it was impossible to tell whether one had died by a Northern Liang blade or their own Northern Barbarian saber.

As Northern Mang rarely had strategic defensible terrain, their military garrisons were always arranged in an offensive posture. This inadvertently led most Northern Mang soldiers to mistakenly believe that the Northern Liang army, with its "three hundred thousand iron cavalry dominating the world," was merely an old, outdated legend. The eight Spring and Autumn forces were uneven in quality; how could they be compared to Northern Mang? Therefore, even the most conservative Northern Mang commandants and generals, when speaking of the Northern Liang army, which occupied a remote corner, only thought that the combat strength of the two armies was comparable. Northern Mang's problem wasn't whether it could defeat Northern Liang, but when it would march south and conquer it. Dong's cavalry was widely acknowledged as an elite force capable of standing alongside Tuoba Bodhisattva's one hundred eighty thousand personal troops. Dong's cavalry, in particular, excelled at the 'horse-turning spear' maneuver. In several fierce battles on the eastern front involving around twenty thousand troops, Dong's cavalry could retreat a hundred li without dispersing. This time, rescuing Maolong Garrison, they heard that their opponent was only a lonely force of four thousand cavalrymen who had advanced deep into their territory. Who wouldn't see this as a great military achievement easily within reach?

A Dong family cavalryman exhaled deeply, adjusted his helmet, and looked down. He recalled the song that had become popular in the army at some unknown time: "Dong family sons, with saber and spear on horseback, die on their horse's back, die beside their horse. Little maidens at home, do not cry your hearts out; little sons at home, become Dong family men again."

The two armies, six hundred against nine hundred, had no warhorses left to ride, confronting each other in an infantry formation.

The black-clad youth had been pierced through the chest by a sword. The assassin had withdrawn immediately after the successful strike, not even retrieving the blade. The youth then fought the entire fierce battle with Gong Pu without removing the sword. The deputy leader of Ti Bing Mountain was already severed in tendons and veins, reduced to a boneless corpse. The youth touched the black tiger that had turned entirely red, looked around, and drew a saber from the abdomen of a fallen cavalryman at his feet. The cavalryman was a Dragon Elephant Cavalryman, and the saber was a Northern Liang blade, showing the extreme chaos of this bloody battle. Xu Longxiang severed Gong Pu's head with a single strike, then bent down to pick it up, clutching it by the hair. He raised it high, and the nine hundred Dragon Elephant Army soldiers instantly roared in unison, "Fight to the death!"

A commandant, seeing many cavalrymen holding Northern Mang sabers, said grimly, "Change your sabers!"

There was not a single warhorse, only nine hundred Northern Liang sabers.

The six hundred Dong Zhuo cavalrymen also changed their sabers simultaneously.

Dong Zhuo was not a general who enjoyed personally leading charges into battle, but in this battle at Hulu Pass, it had reached a point where he had no choice but to fight. In his heart, he also wanted to personally cut down dozens of Dragon Elephant Cavalrymen. Regardless of how the Southern Court disparaged the character of this "dead fatty," they dared not deny Dong Zhuo's military genius. Even Grand General Liu Gui had elevated this often-recalcitrant young man to the stature of Gu Jiantang and Chen Zhibao, believing that Dong Zhuo would continue to rise in the inevitable grand war between Northern Mang and the Liyang Dynasty, becoming another military pillar for Northern Mang after Tuoba Bodhisattva. Dong Zhuo, wielding his Green Spring Spear, charged at the forefront. His eyes were fixed on Xu Longxiang, the second son of the Butcher, who was gradually becoming a spent force.

The world knew Dong the Fatty was greedy for life and afraid of death, but this didn't mean Dong Zhuo's combat strength was mediocre. Ti Bing Mountain had paid a heavy price for him, their son-in-law, this time: most of the Penglai Cauldron Slaves were deployed, along with a third of their guest retainers, and even Old Man Gong Pu, renowned as Northern Mang's foremost Vajra, was brought out. Yet, this squad of sworn death warriors couldn't exhaust the black-clad youth, especially with a chief assassin from Zhuwang also assisting. Dong Zhuo had to admit defeat; any Finger Profound realm expert would have obediently died twice over. Dong Zhuo already knew that this meant clinging to his father-in-law's leg, even throwing tantrums, to demand that his father-in-law personally take action.

At this point, further thought was useless. Dong Zhuo was not someone who couldn't let go; his bottom line was to sacrifice another thousand rangers to overwhelm Xu Longxiang to death.

Corpses strewn across the field would impede the cavalry's charge speed.

The six hundred Dong Zhuo infantry cavalrymen merely held back the nine hundred Dragon Elephant Army soldiers, not engaging in prolonged combat. As the two thousand cavalrymen approached, they quickly rode to the sides of the battlefield, creating space for a charge.

The two thousand rangers swept over the nine hundred 'reefs' like a flood.

It was like harvesting rice during autumn in the Central Plains.

This brute-force tactic of resting and waiting for the enemy achieved a predictably massive result.

In a single round, nearly two hundred Dragon Elephant Army soldiers were cut down, while their own side lost only eighty cavalrymen.

With his Green Spring Spear, Dong Zhuo effortlessly skewered and wounded over a dozen utterly exhausted infantry cavalrymen.

Half of the eighty fallen were torn apart, man and horse, by the black-clad youth.

After breaking through the entire infantry formation, Dong Zhuo turned his horse around and gazed at the battered yet unyielding cluster of "reefs." Even with Dong Zhuo's ruthlessness, an indescribable feeling emerged within him: would his sixty thousand Dong family sons in the future have to face such a Northern Liang army head-on? Even if he eventually became the Southern Court's sole powerful minister, how many would be left? The Dong family army was his direct lineage, painstakingly cultivated over ten years; every death meant one less, and vacancies were extremely difficult to fill. The so-called strategy of fighting while sustaining oneself by campaigning thousands of li—he had confidence engaging Gu Jiantang on the eastern front, but Dong Zhuo had little confidence in clashing with the Northern Liang Iron Cavalry.

Dong Zhuo launched a second wave of charge. In addition, he detached several hundred cavalrymen to perform flanking maneuvers and hunt down the remnants, giving the Dragon Elephant Army no chance to breathe.

The baby-faced cavalryman glanced at the familiar commandant beside him, who had been impaled by a Northern Barbarian's spear after killing two enemy riders. Showing no expression of sorrow, he tightened his grip on his Northern Liang saber.

Little Flea was dead, the old squad leader who always spoke crude jokes was dead, and now the commandant was dead too.

Everyone was dead.

It must be his turn now.

He grimaced and smiled.

After the second charge, another three hundred Dragon Elephant Army soldiers were killed.

Just as Dong Zhuo prepared to finish off this stubborn group of Northern Liang soldiers, it wasn't them who charged first. Instead, the black-clad youth began to run towards him.

Was he trying to buy time with his life?

Dong Zhuo narrowed his eyes, his teeth clenching together.

By now, Ligu Garrison had, as expected, arrived to clear the battlefield.

At Hulu Pass, the yellow sand suddenly rose.

All that could be seen between heaven and earth were white horses and white armor.

Dong Zhuo spat fiercely, widened his eyes, and cursed, "Damn you, Huang Songpu, Liu Gui, Yang Yuanzan, and all your eighteen generations of ancestors, for tricking me into fighting to the death with the Great Snow Dragon Cavalry!"

Without hesitation, Dong Zhuo roared, "Squad leaders, dismount! Give your horses to our infantry brothers. Retreat!"

The general in white armor with a silver spear arrived on the battlefield. He glanced at the two thousand Dong Zhuo soldiers but did not pursue them.

He walked up to the black-clad youth, who still had a sword protruding from his chest, and respectfully said, "Your humble subordinate, Yuan Zuozong, greets the General."