At that moment, more than twenty of their boats were still out on the river, yet to land.
"We can win!" Zhao Pan felt a surge of confidence and laughed heartily. "Lads, shove these bastards back into the river! I want to watch that old thief Nian jump in with my own eyes!"
Marked by his command, the Yuan soldiers overcame their initial panic and began to steady themselves to mount a counterattack.
Their lines shifted from buckling inward to pushing forward, shoving back northward foot by foot.
Every inch of ground gained was paved with rivers of blood.
Yet the Xunzhou army did not fall back toward the water. Instead, under relentless pressure, they retreated westward.
Higher ground lay to the west, backed by a sprawling open plain.
They knew all too well that being forced against the river while losing ground would leave them with nowhere to run but the grave.
He Lingchuan swung the Soaring Dragon spear, cutting down several men in rapid succession. A nearby shriek caught his ear—a Yuan soldier had taken a cannon blast that tore away half his skull. Half his scalp hung loose, dangling precariously by his ear, and by the flickering firelight He Lingchuan could see red and white oozing from the shattered cranium.
The soldier lay collapsed on the ground, unable to rise, yet death had not claimed him just yet. He could only reach out blindly toward the crowd, wailing in ceaseless agony.
He Lingchuan's heart softened in the end. He thrust out his spear, running it clean through the man's throat.
The soldier died instantly, granted a swift release.
In the brief lull as he yanked back his spear, He Lingchuan swept his gaze across the whole battlefield. An endless sea of men clashed on both sides, their battle cries and agonized shrieks entwining, punctuated by roaring cannons and hurling trebuchets that sent earth and stone spraying alongside flying flesh and blood.
The scene was nothing short of a living hell.
In a daze, he realized this was his very first time experiencing a full-scale battle firsthand, whether in reality or in dreams—a clash of sixty to seventy thousand men tearing into each other.
Chaos was the overarching theme here. A single person's strength in a brawl of this magnitude seemed utterly trivial, hardly worth mentioning.
Yet barely had that realization dawned in his mind when over a hundred mounted warriors suddenly burst out from the woods not far behind the Yuan flank, charging straight toward the Yuan commander-in-chief.
The closer they drew, the faster they galloped.
Their steeds were exceptional, and their horsemanship was even more superb. The Yuan soldiers along their path either failed to react in time or were sliced down from the saddle the instant they raised their weapons!
Amid the massive melee, these hundred-plus horsemen drove like a dagger directly into the Yuan army's vital core. The rider at the dagger's point gave off a terrifying aura, cutting through enemies like vegetables as though traversing empty ground.
Along his path of advance, some soldiers were hurled off their feet by surging waves of pressure before they could even get close.
In merely a few breaths, the mounted force tore open the Yuan army's outer perimeter beneath a cloud of roaring dust.
He Lingchuan glanced back, his pupils shrinking abruptly. He immediately spurred his mount toward the high ground.
Galloping at the very front of that charge—was that not Hong Chenglüe?!
His timing had been precise to perfection. As the Xunzhou troops were driven back step by step, the Yuan army naturally dispatched forces to pursue them toward the riverbank, thinning the guard around their commander.
Yet no matter how thin, that ring of close guards still numbered four to five hundred men, all elites of the Yuan army.
Amid the turmoil of men and horses, no one noticed He Lingchuan hurling an object into the fray.
Hong Chenglüe acted as though the guards were nothing to him. As they roared in fury and surged forward to intercept him, he tapped his heels against his horse's flanks. The steed accelerated sharply, and taking advantage of the momentum, he swung his arm back and hurled his long spear like a javelin!
The power and speed behind this throw truly rivaled that of the Gale Army.
Blue light crackled along the spear shaft, trailing sparks and lightning all the way—infused with the power of thunder itself!
It moved so fast that two elite guards flanking the line tried to intercept it, only for their strikes to hit empty air.
The spearhead pointed straight at He Chunhua, surrounded by his protectors!
Hong Chenglüe had lain in wait in the woods for a long time. Even as the Xunzhou troops suffered setbacks and fell back northward, he had turned a blind eye, patiently biding his time for the perfect chance to settle the score with the murderer who had wronged his wife.
He Chunhua turned his head only to see lightning flash and crackle, dazzling his eyes, scaring his soul nearly out of his body.
He tried to dodge, but the spear's immense aura locked onto him, pinning him so fiercely that he could not budge an inch, unable even to turn his neck.
Hong Chenglüe had concentrated the origin power of over a hundred men into his single strike, resolved to achieve his goal in one blow.
In the blink of an eye, the spear was about to punch straight through He Chunhua's skull. Yet at that critical juncture, a yellow glow flashed ten feet in front of He Chunhua, and a towering figure rose like a mountain, shielding him completely!
With a wet thud, the spear struck the figure, driving straight through from front to back.
Though its residual momentum had not fully spent itself and still sought to burst forward into He Chunhua, the towering figure reached out, grabbed the tail of the spear, yanked it out, and tossed it aside!
No blood flowed from the wound. Lightning raged across its body, yet it remained standing tall, facing Hong Chenglüe.
The surrounding soldiers gasped in shock, overtaken by immense relief.
Only then did cold sweat trickle down He Chunhua's temples.
Standing before him was a gold-armored bronze automaton over fifteen feet tall!
He naturally knew this was the new plaything his son had crafted; just a couple of days ago he had seen it strolling around the grove. He Chunhua had never imagined it would come in handy so soon.
Without this bronze automaton to serve as a meat shield, his head likely would have been claimed despite being surrounded by hundreds of guards.
Though his view was blocked and he hadn't managed to clearly see the ambusher's face, He Chunhua guessed who it was in an instant, and a deep chill seized his heart.
His unease from the past few days had come true—Hong Chenglüe had indeed come.
The blood feud between them ran too deep; one of them had to die here today.
The gold-armored bronze automaton had appeared out of thin air, knocking over two Yuan cavalrymen. Hong Chenglüe was only thirty feet away from it; at his horse's current speed, wouldn't he close the distance in the blink of an eye?
Before everyone's eyes, Hong Chenglüe crashed headlong into the bronze automaton, man and horse together!
Such was the astonishing force of impact that even the bronze automaton, despite its solid footing, staggered back a step before steadying itself.
Under He Lingchuan's control, it naturally did not squander the opportunity. Bringing its arms together in a crushing bear hug, it moved to squeeze Hong Chenglüe against its chest.
He Lingchuan had picked up this move from Meng Shan.
Unfortunately, Hong Chenglüe was just as agile as He Lingchuan had been back then. Though the horse's bones and tendons shattered against the bronze skin and iron sinews with a long, mournful whinny, Hong Chenglüe launched himself upward using the momentum, his waist saber clearing its scabbard!
The sinister, ferocious radiance of that slash defied description.
The bronze automaton's movements froze instantly as a fissure split across its thick neck.
Had it been human, blood would have sprayed violently from the severed throat.
Hong Chenglüe pushed off its shoulder with his foot and pounced toward He Chunhua once more.
The moment he was shielded by the bronze automaton, He Chunhua had spun around and bolted in the opposite direction, abandoning all dignity.
Unfortunately, the men crowding around him now became obstacles in his path.
He Chunhua simply dove behind two tall guards.
Hong Chenglüe bore down on them. Regardless of how valiant the two men were, a single slash sheared them in half at the waist!
Right at that moment, out of the corner of his eye, he caught the glint of cold steel—a heavy saber hurtling straight toward him.
The blade's qi was ferocious. Hong Chenglüe dared not take it lightly and had to abort his poised strike mid-motion, batting the saber aside first.
With a crisp clang, the Fusheng blade flew off horizontally.
He Chunhua seized the opening to pull an item from his sleeve.
Hong Chenglüe let out a loud laugh. His form flashed, suddenly closing in right behind He Chunhua, and he delivered a backhand slash!
Three or four flares of light erupted in rapid succession across He Chunhua's body, vanishing as quickly as they appeared. One protective magic artifact after another activated, only to be shattered in an instant.
Buying that fraction of a second allowed him to scramble forward one more step.
"Father!" He Lingchuan had just ridden up and cried out in horror at the sight.
Because right before his eyes, the tip of Hong Chenglüe's blade swept past the side of He Chunhua's neck!
Nimble, swift... and utterly merciless!
He Chunhua lost his balance entirely, clutching his neck with one hand as he crumpled to the ground.
Just as Hong Chenglüe moved to inspect the body, he caught the faint whisper of wind behind his head. He jerked his head aside, only to see the saber from earlier arcing toward him through the air.
From that angle, there was no one throwing it.
Did this weapon possess the ability to home in and pursue on its own?
In the nick of time, Hong Chenglüe batted it away once more.
The heavy saber spun twice through the air before dropping straight into He Lingchuan's hand.
It possessed the nature of refusing to quit without drawing blood, but its master had now recalled it to fend off the enemy.
The moment the saber settled into his grip, the bo beast surged with speed, and He Lingchuan swept past Hong Chenglüe.
A resonant clang of clashing metal rang out, its reverberations lingering as a billowing shockwave hurled the surrounding soldiers to the ground.
Mounted on horseback, He Lingchuan recoiled backward as well, the webbing of his thumb and forefinger splitting open with blood.
That strike of his had been fueled by fury, infused with the entirety of his physical strength and origin power, compounded by the full speed of the bo beast—finally unleashing the most flawless Wave Slash he had ever delivered.
Essence, qi, and spirit had all reached an absolute peak.
Even the main tent ten feet behind Hong Chenglüe saw its center post, thicker than a large bowl, sheared clean in two.
Yet swinging that saber had felt like striking a pillar rooted in a raging torrent. Far from cleaving Hong Chenglüe in half, He Lingchuan had been violently jolted, the webbing of his hand split and his vital organs battered as if struck by a heavy sledgehammer.
One had to remember that Hong Chenglüe had stood on the ground, shifting from stillness to motion, and taken his blow head-on.
From this single clash alone, He Lingchuan judged that Hong Chenglüe's skill was likely not a whit inferior to Commander Xiao's.
Hong Chenglüe himself was forced back three large strides, each footprint sinking deeper than the last before he barely bled off the momentum, avoiding tumbling onto his rear.
If He Lingchuan felt miserable, Hong Chenglüe was hardly in better shape. His prized saber had nearly slipped from his grasp, and the force transmitted through the blade had split into two currents—one of fire and one of ice—drilling straight into his meridians. If left untended, it would cause serious trouble.
Only he knew that the blood was churning violently in his chest and his internal organs had suffered genuine shock.
The slash delivered by that youth had been bursting with vitality and spirit; its angle and murderous intent were beyond reproach. Its only flaw, perhaps, was that it was not quite tricky enough.
If left to grow, in less than five years, the Yuan Kingdom would have another formidable general.
At that thought, murderous resolve surged within Hong Chenglüe.
He recognized this lad. A few days ago during the negotiations in Baiming Valley, this boy had stood beside He Chunhua; he had to be the crooked official's eldest son, He Lingchuan.
Baili Qing had lost an arm to a single strike from him. Looking back now, that defeat hadn't been an injustice.
What a shame. How did a scoundrel like He Chunhua deserve such a fierce and capable son?
Unfortunately, that brief delay allowed the surrounding Yuan soldiers to swarm in like a tide, encircling Hong Chenglüe and walling him off from the father and son.
Hong Chenglüe could only cast a regretful glance at He Lingchuan.
He Lingchuan didn't bother troubling himself with him any further, leaping straight down from his mount to check on He Chunhua. "Father!"
Ever since crossing over, he had lived with the He family for months, and his relationship with this cheap father He Chunhua was nuanced, distant, and guarded. Yet seeing him take a blade to a vital spot and collapse, He Lingchuan's heart leaped into his throat.
He Chunhua was the commander-in-chief of the Xiazhou army—how could he fall now?!
Chapter 300