Chapter 129: The Battle for the Hillside (Part V)

Three warhorses charging at full speed were struck by crossbow bolts. They let out shrill, piercing neighs, yet they did not collapse immediately. Instead, they struggled to keep galloping, though their massive bodies were inevitably affected by the pain. Even the slightest instability caused by their swaying shook the riders on their backs, forcing them to expose more of their bodies from behind their square shields.

"Now!" Ding Li, who had just stepped in to replace Hei Zi and his team with three crossbowmen, suddenly barked a command. He shifted his Qin crossbow slightly and pulled the trigger.

The other three crossbowmen were equally swift. While they could not match the pinpoint accuracy of Ding Li or Hei Zi, Hei Zi’s earlier words had guided them. The short crossbows in their hands were all aimed at the charging horses, rather than attempting to knock a rider off as Ding Li had just done.

"Eighty paces. Fire!"

Following the sharp judgment and loud warning of a spearman leaning against the wagon wall, seven archers standing behind the wall, who had been holding their positions, adjusted the angles of their arrows that were pointed toward the sky and released their grips without hesitation.

"Twang. Twang. Twang."

The crisp sound of the bowstrings snapping back struck a chord with the charging enemy soldiers. The shield-bearers in the front row, in particular, were using their square shields primarily to deflect the crossbow bolts from behind the wagon wall, not the arrows raining down from above. The gruesome deaths of their two unfortunate comrades had made it clear that a master archer was stationed behind the wall, and they did not want to be caught off guard and killed by a stray shot while distracted by the aerial barrage.

Without needing orders, over a dozen cavalrymen with square shields instinctively relied on their mounts to dodge the arrows. They dug their heels into the horses' flanks, surging forward to narrowly evade the volley. However, this maneuver left the enemy soldiers following behind exposed to the rain of arrows. Because the number of arrows was small, the enemy riders scrambled to steer their horses away. In the end, only two unlucky ones were hit, but they sustained no fatal injuries and continued to charge.

After the volley, Hei Zi and the three guards quickly swapped back in for Ding Li’s group, nimbly firing four bolts. Hei Zi’s reputation lived up to its name; he sent another rider who had exposed a sliver of his side tumbling from his horse. Of the other three bolts, two were aimed at the already wounded horses, causing blood to spray from the beasts. More importantly, the horses could no longer endure the pain; their front legs buckled, and their massive, heavy bodies crashed to the ground, sliding forward several paces before throwing their riders ahead of them.

It was hard to say whether these two thrown riders were lucky or cursed. While they had the misfortune of being unhorsed and left dazed and seeing stars, the sliding motion of their falling mounts allowed their trailing comrades to steer clear, sparing them from being crushed into a pulp within their worn armor. Furthermore, on the ground, they could use their square shields to cover their entire bodies, and at a distance of dozens of paces, they did not have to worry about being picked off by crossbow fire.

"Swish. Swish, swish, swish."

Ding Li and his men behind the wagon wall fired another round of crossbow bolts, accompanied by another volley from the archers behind them. As he turned back, Ding Li caught a glimpse of the enemy cavalry and felt a sudden, ominous shiver.

The charging enemy seemed to be intentionally widening the gap between their front and rear ranks. In other words, only the dozen or so shield-bearing cavalrymen in the front were charging at full speed, while the soldiers behind were maintaining their original pace, seemingly unconcerned about failing to provide timely support to their comrades.

There was no time for Ding Li to ponder. Forty paces was a mere blink of an eye for cavalry at full gallop; even a skilled archer could loose at most two arrows. While reloading his crossbow, Ding Li followed the original plan and shouted to the Zhang family guards, who were holding their spears in reverse: "Spears ready! Throw at twenty paces!"

In the blink of an eye, Hei Zi and his men fired four more bolts. Perhaps because the distance had closed significantly, or perhaps because the shield-bearers had grown careless, Hei Zi struck another rider, and one of the other guards managed to plant a bolt in a rider's side. Though not immediately fatal, the soldier flinched in pain, lost his balance, and tumbled to the side.

"Throw!"

A Zhang family guard, acting as a temporary commander under Ding Li’s orders, cautiously calculated the distance. Exactly as instructed, when the gap narrowed to twenty paces, he flashed into the space between the wagons, leaned back, gritted his teeth, and hurled his spear with all his might.

Simultaneously, the seven other Zhang family guards darted out from their cover and hurled their spears. Without waiting to see the results, they ducked back behind the wagon wall to make room for their replacements, took a deep breath, and reached for the spears stacked beside them.

When the seven laborers replacing them stepped forward and threw their spears, a few sharp-eyed men among them showed shock, mingled with a touch of surprise.

The effect of the thrown spears was exactly as Ding Li had predicted. While the piercing power was less than ideal—and Ding Li never intended to rely on the spears to penetrate the square shields—the impact force was immense. Two of the guards, possessing great strength, managed to punch holes through the shields, piercing the bodies of the men behind them and dragging them from their saddles. As the spears hit the ground, the two corpses were pinned firmly to the earth.

"Charge with me!"

"Retreat!"

Suddenly, two loud shouts rang out almost simultaneously amidst the thunder of hooves. The first came from Qin Mo, who had moved from the rear of the formation to the side of the cavalry unit; the second came from the leader of the shield-bearing cavalry.

Then, a scene unfolded that shocked everyone, including Ding Li. The shield-bearing cavalry, having lost nearly half their number, suddenly yanked on their reins just ten paces from the wagon wall, executing a sharp turn and galloping sideways along the front of the wall. Even more astonishingly, Qin Mo, who had been on the flank of the cavalry, suddenly spurred his horse to accelerate, but in the opposite direction. The enemy soldiers who had been protected by the shield-bearers followed suit.

Only then did Ding Li and Hei Zi realize the truth: the shield-bearing cavalry were never meant to be the vanguard for a direct assault; they were merely cannon fodder to draw fire and attention. Or rather, only a portion of them were. Now, even if the remaining shield-bearers exposed their backs, Ding Li and his men had no time to attend to them, for the true target of the main force led by Qin Mo was clearly not this corner of the wagon wall.

"Pull them down!" Seeing the enemy veer off, Ding Li grew anxious. He knew the consequences of letting this cavalry unit escape. He shouted and, disregarding any danger, leaped onto the top of a wagon. Kneeling on one knee, he aimed his Qin crossbow at Qin Mo, who was being escorted by his personal guards.

Within seconds, the urgency in Ding Li’s eyes faded. He ultimately lowered his crossbow. Qin Mo was surrounded tightly by his bodyguards, just as he had been during the charge, and Ding Li had no confidence in a clean, lethal shot.

His gaze darted rapidly, and he soon found a new target. Judging by the armor, he knew this man was no ordinary soldier. He pulled the trigger without hesitation, the bolt flying toward the man's back.

He did not stop to check the result—or perhaps he had too much confidence in his marksmanship. He leaped off the wagon and shouted to the men who were still leaning out to fire at the enemy's retreating backs: "Spearmen and crossbowmen, follow me! A few of you from the Zhang family, come too!"

Before the words had even faded, Ding Li had already darted out. Hei Zi, however, remained where he was. He understood that this position was crucial for the entire wagon wall. More importantly, he knew his own limits; he was not suited for the chaotic melee to come, but rather for providing sniper support from the flanks to assist Ding Li and the rest of the caravan.

"Break through the wagon wall! Charge!" Leaving Ding Li’s small elite force behind, Qin Mo’s cavalry unit struck like a sharp blade at the defense of the wagon wall.

Although Li Shan had arranged for extra eyes on Qin Mo’s cavalry, the sudden change in tactics left him unable to respond. The cavalry had come in at an angle from the side, and due to the obstruction of the wagons, the guards with short crossbows could not fire. The Zhang family guards with short bows were overwhelmed and unable to focus. Directly ahead, they were still locked in a standoff with the enemy forces led by Wang Qing and Zhang Wu. Against the cavalry attacking from the flank, they were equally powerless; the few stray arrows they fired rose into the air only to fall silently to the ground.

On horseback, Qin Mo, now fully unleashed, began to display his prowess. He dropped his reins, drew his horn bow, and pulled it to a full draw. As his horse surged forward, the cold, glinting arrowhead was pointed at a guard behind the wagon wall who was busy reloading his crossbow.

"Twang."

With a crisp sound, Qin Mo, seemingly confident in his skill, did not bother to check the result. He reached into his quiver, drew another arrow, and in the blink of an eye, aimed at another Zhang family guard he spotted from the side.

"Twang."

Another crisp sound. Li Shan, behind the wall, felt his heart sink. A guard had already fallen to the ground, a cold crossbow bolt dropping from his lifeless hand. The man was dead, an arrow having pierced through the back of his skull. The shaft protruding from his head dripped with fresh blood, and the sharp tip bore a bloodshot eye, now coated in dust, masking the confusion of his final moments.