Withdrawing the Troops

Origin power was truly a wonderful thing. Regrettably, He Lingchuan's companions and army had not yet gained access to it, putting them at a severe disadvantage whenever they clashed with the regular armies of other nations. Dong Rui was also deep in thought. "This bronze armor needs further modification." He Lingchuan nodded. "Once we return to Yangshan, discuss the improvements with Li Mingyang." Li Mingyang and his brother had led the people of Songyang Mansion to take up permanent residence in the Yangshan Archipelago. Over the past six months, they had established a branch, fired up the forges, and taken on apprentices, turning out a steady stream of forged implements. The bronze battle armor the berserk ape was wearing now had been crafted by Li Mingyang, and it was already the second version. It seemed work on a third version would need to begin shortly. ... By the seashore. Lu Qingbang led the elite soldiers of Bailie and the Bailong warriors, fighting desperately to break out toward Storm Bay; the Yangshan Guard, led by Qiu Hu and Moqi Feng, had already engaged the Ya Kingdom army and had been clashing with them for quite a while. Both sides were roughly equal in numbers. The Yangshan Guard, entering battle for the first time, were bursting with vigor; the Ya troops, having fought the Bailong for two straight days, were comparatively exhausted, yet they wielded origin power! Though his task was to reinforce Lu Qingbang, Qiu Hu had not simply rushed headlong toward Luting Beach. Instead, he had taken and held a steep upward slope, waiting until the Ya army approached head-on before launching an assault and charging down the incline. The Ya army had to fight their way uphill against the gradient, while the Yangshan Guard swept downward with gravity on their side. There was no question which side held the momentum. Qiu Hu kept firmly in mind that his side suffered from the lack of origin power, which meant they had to compensate by taking every advantage of the terrain. What was more, seven people from Mount Rong had joined this expedition. Together with the cultivators recruited over the past half year, they drove into the enemy vanguard like a razor-sharp wedge. They needed to rip open a massive breach in the enemy's formation so their own soldiers could pour in. The initial clash of the two forces was like two colossal waves slamming together, sending a spray of blood and gore flying into the air. The outcome of this opening clash was crucial; whichever side gained the upper hand would immediately create a gulf in momentum, psychological edge, morale, and even positional control. Carrying the vigor of fresh troops, the favor of the high ground, and the ferocious thrust of their vanguard, the Yangshan Guard not only held their own but violently drove the enemy back down the slope by more than three zhang. After that initial push. Having secured the early advantage, the Yangshan Guard fought with even greater fervor, each man surging forward boldly. After another fifteen minutes of fighting, Moqi Feng suddenly roared, "Change formation! Change formation!" Although the Yangshan Guard's fierce offensive still maintained the upper hand, Moqi Feng keenly sensed that while the Ya army was in disarray, they had not broken. Their retreat was growing smaller with every passing second. Order after order echoed through the enemy lines, and their disrupted ranks were steadily regaining cohesion. After all, the Ya military had spent years on campaign; their combat mindset and battle rhythm were superior to those of Yangshan's newly raised force. So long as they were not shattered in that opening wave, the initial edge secured by the Yangshan Guard would inexorably dwindle. At this juncture, the Yangshan troops needed to rely on battle arrays and superior gear, as the advantage conferred by the enemy's origin power was beginning to tell. Fortunately, before long, news of Wulu's capture reached the battlefield. Without dwelling on the details of the encirclement and pursuit, the Ya army subsequently withdrew, pulling back to the north of the peninsula as He Lingchuan demanded. Having received He Lingchuan's word, the Yangshan Guard also sheathed their weapons. This brutal battle, which had raged for two full days, finally came to an end before daybreak. The moment the pressure of combat lifted, the Bailong warriors collapsed to the ground in droves, panting, gulping water, and closing their eyes in exhaustion. Lu Qingbang drank deeply, soothing his parched throat, then slumped down against the nearest boulder, his limbs feeling as heavy as lead. After such prolonged, relentless, high-intensity warfare, he had believed he would never survive. Fortunately. Truly, fortunately. They had held out until the very end. Just then, someone clapped him on the shoulder and said, "You've worked hard." Lu Qingbang looked up to find He Lingchuan standing beside him. At that exact moment, the sun crested the eastern horizon. The first golden rays pierced the gloom of the forest, restoring light to the mortal world. Fine motes of dust drifted lazily in the morning dawn, lending the scene an unexpected stillness and peace. Only after a bloody war could one truly appreciate the preciousness of peace. And both he and He Lingchuan stood together in that light. "Brother He..." Lu Qingbang stood, a lump in his throat. It was no exaggeration to say they had survived by the skin of their teeth. He had thought he would never live to see the third day's sunrise. The Yangshan Archipelago only shared a business acquaintance with his family, yet He Lingchuan had been willing to take such immense risks to rescue them! "Brother! Brother! Big brother!" Another figure came dashing over and threw her arms around him. It was Lu Feiyan. Lu Qingbang let out a pained yowl. He was covered in wounds from head to toe; his sister's tight embrace squeezed out cold sweat and fresh blood at the same time. Lu Feiyan hastily let go and chuckled sheepishly. "Your arms and legs are all still there! Not bad, not bad!" Seeing his sister's bright smile alongside the scratches on her neck and the bloodstains on her light armor, Lu Qingbang, as her elder brother, could not help asking, "How did you end up coming out to sea with Brother He?" Lu Feiyan had transmitted intelligence to him earlier using ciphers, but there had been no time for idle chatter then. He Lingchuan waved to Lingguang, and the medicine ape scurried over to tend to Lu Qingbang's injuries. "Island Master He went to collect a debt from the Qinglong tribe, so I tagged along to watch," Lu Feiyan explained in a few brief sentences. "Who knew that after the fight, the Qinglong captives would tell us Wulu was leading an army to intercept the Bailong tribe! So we rushed straight over." She had not stayed idle during the battle either; her blade had claimed several more lives. He Lingchuan spoke up at the right moment: "I originally set out with only a thousand men. Deploying additional guards from the Yangshan Archipelago caused some delay. I hope Brother Lu will forgive me." A thousand reinforcements indeed would not have been enough. If He Lingchuan wanted to save people, the prerequisite was that he could not drag himself down in the process. Lu Qingbang bowed deeply, filled with heartfelt gratitude. "My life was saved by Brother He; I would never dare ask for more! Henceforth, if Brother He ever has need of me, so long as it lies within my power, Qingbang will never refuse!" He Lingchuan waved a dismissive hand, magnanimous in demeanor. "We're brothers; there's no need for such distance between us." Inside his robe, the soul-snatching mirror snorted, "That kid still left himself some wiggle room." He had even tacked on a condition. Yet Lu Qingbang knew very well that as a young general of Bailie, heavy responsibilities rested upon his shoulders, and he could not make sweeping promises. He Lingchuan did not hold it against him. Prudence in speech was a virtue; it was far better than making grand, empty promises one could never fulfill. Once Lingguang had hurriedly stemmed the bleeding from Lu Qingbang's wounds, He Lingchuan said, "Come with me to see the Bailong." The Bailong tribe had not moved from their position; they were still encamped at Luting Beach. A somber and sorrowful atmosphere hung over the tribe, for at the very moment the reinforcements had arrived, Moqi Tong had drawn his final breath. When He Lingchuan arrived, the Bailong people were gathered around Moqi Tong. Even Moqi Feng crouched beside him with reddened eyes and a hung head. He and Moqi Tong had been playmates since childhood, sharing a deep bond. The Yangshan Guard had managed to save the Bailong tribe, but they had arrived too late to save Moqi Tong.