Chapter 33: Relentless Resistance

Ang Ri circled in the air atop his Taiyue Luan, watching the Dayao cavalry rapidly retreat in the distance. He felt no joy in forcing back the Dayao forces; they were withdrawing of their own volition. For the past half month, the Dayao troops had consistently behaved this way—breaking off after completing a defensive skirmish, resolutely refusing to be drawn into a protracted battle. As for himself, he could not linger too long, for the enemy was not retreating entirely; they were watching him from afar.

Whenever Ang Ri circled for too long, a "Menxia Du" (Gate Supervisor) riding a griffin, accompanied by one or two squads of dragon-horse cavalry, would charge up. He had already suffered losses in clashes over the past few days. That Gate Supervisor would dive from high altitude, forcing him into a low-altitude crawl, at which point the dragon-horse cavalry would swarm him. If not for his own kin, the Ravenfolk, sacrificing themselves to block the attacks, he would have been left behind long ago.

As he circled, Ang Ri looked down at the river below. Piles of corpses tumbled and surged in the torrent, including the massive remains of three war elephants. Three days ago, the main force of the Southern Frontier tribal coalition had attempted to wade across this river two miles upstream. The crossing point was deep but gentle, and the tribes had intended to use the war elephants to tow rafts. Just as they began, the Dayao armored infantry appeared. After an initial charge routed the "Flying Head" tribesmen preparing lumber on the beach, they set up a heavy crossbow array—or rather, a simplified version of the "Queyue Formation." The four crossbows at the center of the spear-and-shield formation were too powerful for one person to draw; the longest of the three arms on each crossbow was as long as a man. Using four people to operate the pulleys, they drew the arms back, shooting the three giant elephants in the eyes and sending them to be swallowed by the river. Within half an hour, the remaining heavy crossbows poured seven hundred bolts into the writhing snake-people in the water. In the end, even those who were dead and bobbing on the surface were struck by additional bolts. It was truly brutal. The thousands of Southern Frontier troops, separated by less than thirty meters of water, had watched in dead silence as the fewer than two hundred Dayao soldiers arrogantly slaughtered them.

After that battle, the drifting corpses had become snagged on a shallow sandbar, revealing a crossing point. Yet now, the Southern Frontier tribes were exceptionally hesitant to cross. The rotting bodies emitted a foul stench, and large fish swam in and out of the wounds, enjoying a gluttonous feast.

Ang Ri sighed. The black dots approaching from afar signaled that it was time to descend back to his main camp. "It is easy to find a thousand soldiers, but hard to find a single general," he murmured, agreeing with the sentiment more than ever. "It is easy to recruit a thousand men, but finding a general who can lead them to victory is difficult. The Lihuo Sect is mindlessly driving the Southern Frontier tribes to swarm the north, but the generals who actually know how to fight are on the Dayao side."

At this moment, Ang Ri deeply respected Wu Fei’s military command. Even based on what he had seen in the Haotian Realm, the Dayao army’s battlefield maneuvers and adaptability were no different from the legendary generals he had witnessed there. His assessment: the calculation of timing, the utilization of terrain, and the orchestration of military momentum—there were no errors to be found.

Ang Ri maneuvered his Taiyue Luan to evade the incoming Zhao Tu, muttering to himself, "Although the Xi Realm has yet to be touched by disaster and has long lacked a sense of malice, it is not without the seeds of great generals. Once the winds of change blow, these generals will surely soar like dragons!" He looked up at the bright moon in the high sky. "Moon Empress, was it truly the right choice to have our kin return here?"

Ang Ri descended into the forest where the tribal coalition had set up camp. As the Taiyue Luan landed, the surrounding treetops swayed, sending out ripples of green. Zhao Tu, having followed, ceased his pursuit and signaled his dragon-horse cavalry to maintain their stealth and continue lying in ambush. Zhao Tu gazed at the spot where Ang Ri had landed, narrowing his eyes. He raised a telescope to his chest, scanning the forest, and frowned. The concentration of "Sha" (baleful energy) there was intense; Zhao Tu sensed something unusual. Adhering to Wu Fei’s warning to "never enter a forest," he refrained. Although he usually ignored such orders—often diving to harass the Southern Frontier tribes after acquiring his griffin—he realized that if he pursued them now, it would be sheer stupidity.

...Beneath the dense canopy...

After landing, many Ravenfolk waited on the branches with daggers drawn. This was not entirely due to bravery; compared to staying in the treetops, the monsters below made the Ravenfolk extremely uncomfortable. Beneath the trees, various mountain spirits and wood-vine monsters huddled together. Among them, quite unusually, was a squad of "humanoid" figures resembling the Dayao. These sixteen individuals wore black Taoist robes, with talismans pasted on their foreheads and pieces of blood-jade held in their mouths.

Ang Ri steered his Taiyue Luan toward an open space, carefully avoiding the eerie Taoists. In truth, they were not human; they were "Sha Corpses" cultivated by the Lihuo Sect, born at the most inauspicious times and fed constantly on fire-baleful energy. The Yaosuan (spirit-calculation) arrays within the blood-jade rhythmically regulated the flow of baleful energy and spiritual essence. Compared to the hulking, non-human monsters around them, this silent squad of Sha Corpses was the most unsettling presence to all living things there.

Behind the Sha Corpses stood a carriage carrying not a sedan, but a bronze coffin. The shimmering verdigris upon it made it appear both ancient and malevolent. Sitting atop the coffin was a young cultivator. He appeared remarkably normal—lips tinged with blood, pupils glowing with spiritual light, far more composed than most battlefield soldiers—and was tinkering with a small tripod. He was Jia Mude, a direct disciple of the Lihuo Sect. He looked at Ang Ri on the Taiyue Luan and asked for a report on what he had seen in the air.

Jia Mude, having confirmed that the enemy force on the opposite bank was still only in the hundreds rather than thousands, nodded and summoned the leader of the snake-people. He reached into the bronze coffin and withdrew a gourd. In Ang Ri’s eyes, the snake-man leader was clearly resistant upon seeing the item. However, Jia Mude reprimanded him in a language Ang Ri could not understand. After the snake-man hissed in defense, Jia Mude issued a threat, and the leader finally took the gourd, which exuded a purple aura, with extreme reluctance.

Ang Ri watched the snake-man leader retreat, wondering what kind of medicine was in that purple gourd. He pondered that if his own utility to the Lihuo Sect ever diminished, his Ravenfolk might suffer the same fate.

When the snake-man leader reached the vanguard, he opened the gourd and tilted it. As purple pills tumbled out, they mixed with the clouds and fell as a fine rain upon the snake-people. Immediately, the snake-men began to grow robust; they molted, their scales transforming from fine scales into sharp, blade-like ones, and lumps sprouted on their backs, eventually forming wings.

"This gourd contains 'Dragon-Feast Pills,'" Jia Mude’s voice drifted to Ang Ri’s ears. "They can stimulate the latent, thin bloodlines in scaled species."

"And what is the price for consuming them?" Ang Ri asked, pressing the matter.

Jia Mude adjusted his posture on the coffin, turning to look at Ang Ri with a strange smile. "The price is immortality! And they will never tire, never be defeated!"

Ang Ri’s pupils contracted violently as he watched the mutated snake-men. Their manic mouths had split to an impossible degree, extending all the way to their jawbones.

"This—this is not normal enhancement, but a chaotic mutation. To do this is to defy the Heavens," Ang Ri muttered.

"The Heavens?" Jia Mude replied, his tone lacking arrogance and instead carrying a hint of resignation. "If we do not defy the Heavens, we shall be the ones buried." He patted the bronze coffin, which let out a hollow, clanking sound.

The mutated snake-men in the distance cleaved through the waves at the shallows, rapidly crossing the river. On the opposite bank, the Dayao army, sensing the extreme danger of these creatures, yielded the crossing. Once the Southern Frontier main force confirmed that their mutated snake-men had seized the opposite bank, they swarmed across. Thus, the Southern Frontier tribes crossed the last barrier before reaching the Yongji Pass. Yet, after crossing, the mutated snake-men immediately swam into the distance to begin their pursuit. In truth, even if they had been ordered to stay, the Southern Frontier troops dared not share space with these mutated monsters. They preferred that the creatures stay as far away as possible.

...Switching Perspective to Yongji Pass...

Wu Fei was unaware that he was being evaluated as a "seed of a great general" by an exile from the Haotian Realm. Even if he had known, he would have assumed Ang Ri was merely intimidated by his bluffs; he felt his own level was far from that.

Wu Fei thought to himself: *A great general must at least be capable of commanding tens of thousands of troops. These ten thousand must be multi-faceted, capable of advancing along multiple routes. And the logistics! Bing Xian Han Xin arranged for food supplies to be deployed at every point along the march. His logistics were tied to his troop deployment. One cannot just point a finger and send a thousand heavy cavalry to hide in a small village! If one did that, the heavy cavalry would be forced to slaughter their horses within days. More likely, they would mutiny to seize the supplies of other units and refuse to follow any orders for ten or twenty days. To get them to listen, one would have to request higher-level orders from the rear.*

*Even more critical is the reward and punishment system for merit! Just transporting grain ten kilometers versus one hundred kilometers—the credit is definitely not linear; the longer the route, the higher the risk of enemy ambush. It requires exponential attention, deploying steady generals, and offering heavy rewards and punishments to stabilize the rear lines.*

*As for what constitutes appropriate rewards and punishments, it is like the personal experience accumulated by grandmothers haggling in a vegetable market—not something to be shared with outsiders.*

Xuan Chong: *As for me (Wu Fei), I am still far from that level. I can only flexibly operate a military force of one thousand. And those thousand are not all deployed at once; they rotate out of the pass—one-third resting inside, one-third maneuvering outside to "trim the branches," and one-third standing by twenty kilometers in front of the pass, ready to provide support if the "trimming" unit encounters trouble.*

*The reason I have won until now is simply because I observe more, put in more effort, and constantly use my own "superior horses" to pick off the enemy's "inferior horses." If I had let the "inferior horses" like Wen Si, who had just transitioned from slavery, engage in battle, the combat losses would have already left the pass short-handed.*

...

"Report! In the Qionze area, an enemy group has been spotted crossing the river. They are felling trees, suspected of building wooden ladders and other siege equipment. The blocking force requests a supply of fire oil."

"Report! The enemy’s mutated vanguard has reached the West Pass. Their numbers exceed three hundred, with over fifty heavily mutated individuals (around three meters tall). Our cavalry engaged them, consuming half a base unit of arrows and killing three. Our unit retreated in time; no casualties."

"Keep scouting," Wu Fei ordered.

A few minutes later, Wu Fei carefully studied the map, measured the distances, and determined the speed of his own troops' assembly versus the possibility of enemy reinforcements.

"From the supply point in the Yi-4-5 sector, move one unit of 'Paulownia Fire Pots' to Wang Xi and his men. Also, have Zhao Tu circle around to the rear and create a diversion," Wu Fei commanded.

...Sixteen hours later...

The mutated snake-men, having lost their reason and knowing only how to charge forward, were lured into a rocky beach twenty kilometers in front of Yongji Pass. Because the terrain was rugged, only two paths were viable. Under the "strong recommendation" of the Wu family soldiers, the mutated monsters swarmed into the rocky beach like sheep being driven. Without organization, the sheep followed their leader. After crossing the high ground, the monsters saw the hunters fleeing toward the lush bushes on the side of the rocky beach and, lacking reason, charged straight toward them.

However, as the mutated snake-men rushed into the bushes, they triggered a violent shaking of the thicket; ropes had been laid out, and tripwires were tied throughout. As for why the hunters were unaffected? Because they had markers. Taking advantage of this, the elated hunters fled. According to the plan, the Wu family scouts, who were hunters by trade, would receive their full merit.

If the snake-men had not been mutated and had retained their reason, they would have noticed that these bushes were far too dry for the rainy season. But they had no brains left. This thicket had been dried out by a burning wind blown down from the mountain peaks for six full hours, a result of Wu Fei manipulating the local Disha (Earth-baleful) Yaosuan system. The dryness was akin to withered autumn brush.

Among those who helped set the fire were the slave troops like Wen Si. Wu Fei had seized an opportunity to let these slave soldiers test their mettle. Because the Southern Frontier tribes would soon swarm the walls of Yongji Pass, and although the possibility of thousands of Southern Frontier tribes successfully breaking the pass was theoretically near zero, Wu Fei still worried that these slaves, facing a sea of thousands for the first time, might have wavering morale. Thus, he had them participate in this fight twenty kilometers outside the city.

As the fireballs ignited within the bushes, crackling loudly, the two hundred snake-men writhed like eels in a hot pan. A few heavily mutated snake-men, scorched and bloodied, forced their way out and crashed into the spear phalanx of the peasant soldiers.

Wen Si, holding his spear, watched them charge. His footsteps faltered, but at the sound of a sharp whistling arrow—a signal he had grown accustomed to over the past few days—he reacted, let out a roar, and charged forward. Other peasant spear-men followed. Five spears distributed the force of a half-crippled mutated snake-man’s charge; no one was knocked over. More men rushed in to fill the gaps, and with a flurry of stabs, the mutated snake-man was dead.

Wen Si looked at the fallen snake-man, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and grinned. *It wasn't so bad after all!* Returning to the city, Wen Si decided he would have to brag about this to everyone.

...

On the seventh day of the tenth month, the fifth major defensive battle in front of Yongji Pass ended. It was the final skirmish outside the pass for the Wu family army before the various tribal alliances south of the Ling River launched their full assault.

Ang Ri arrived on his Taiyue Luan, watching the tail end of the battle from afar, but soon retreated under Zhao Tu’s pursuit. The two had clashed no fewer than thirty times in the air. Both riders were intimately familiar with the frequency of each other's wingbeats.