Chapter Twenty-Nine: Rising to the Challenge in Times of Crisis

At the mouth of Gourde Valley, the thunderous roar of battle cries shook the heavens, casting the garrison within Yonggu City into anxious confusion.

Song Ying’an had only just resumed command of the Xuan Battalion; scarcely half a day had passed before the barbarians launched their assault!

“Pass down my order: the Martial Prestige Battalion is to don their armor and relieve the city walls!”

Within the Grand Marshal’s Mansion, the veteran General Zhang Chaoyang had yet to receive a formal report, but he made an immediate decision. “Bring me my armor. I shall oversee the defense at the city wall myself!”

The Martial Prestige Battalion was Zhang Chaoyang’s personal command, their prowess surpassing even that of the Xuan Battalion by a good measure. At this critical hour within Yonggu City, they alone remained battle-ready and unafraid.

It was unwise to mobilize the commander’s own forces lightly, and Zhang Chaoyang could not entrust the city’s defense to the idle, reckless sons of noble families commanding the other battalions. Since Song Ying’an had taken charge of the Xuan Battalion, the old general and the young commander had always worked in tandem: Zhang Chaoyang holding the city with the Martial Prestige Battalion, while the Xuan Battalion harried and struck at the barbarians outside the walls.

This was not because Zhang Chaoyang shrank from the perils beyond the city, but because the commanders left within were all wastrels whom only his own formidable reputation could keep in check.

In the Armory Battalion, Zhao Hengyi, who had just sent a shipment of caltrops and barbed wire to the Xuan Battalion, suddenly looked up in alarm.

By his calculations, the caltrops and barbed wire could not possibly have been properly deployed yet. How had the barbarians attacked so soon?

Wang Erhu, ever resourceful, had gathered that the Xuan Battalion had been thrown into chaos by Chen Yongzhong’s meddling, morale was in shambles, and they had recently suffered a clash with the barbarians’ vanguard, sustaining thirty percent casualties. Song Ying’an had resumed command for less than half a day—hardly enough time to reorganize. For the barbarians to attack now—could someone in Yonggu City have betrayed them?

Disillusioned with the border army of the Great Yan, Zhao Hengyi could not help but suspect the worst of their motives.

If even the likes of Chen Yongzhong could swagger out of Yonggu City unscathed, what absurdities were not possible among these border troops?

The clash of arms and shouts of battle continued. Even within the Armory Battalion, the one-armed Wang Dahu stood guard at Zhao Hengyi’s side, long blade in hand, ever vigilant.

Zhang Daniu, wielding his iron hammer, had long since abandoned his work forging barbed wire, for nothing now took precedence over his master’s safety.

Wang Erhu’s eyes darted about shiftily, already plotting how to spirit their employer away should danger strike.

In contrast, Zhao Hengyi appeared calm. If the Xuan Battalion were overrun by the barbarian horde, then the safest place within a hundred miles would be Yonggu City itself; individual prowess meant little before an organized army.

His only real concern was for his elder brother, Song Ying’an. Please, let nothing happen to him!

And as fate would have it, before the four could learn the outcome at Gourde Valley, a blood-soaked bodyguard from Song Ying’an burst into the Armory Battalion, military tally in hand!

“Master Zhao, the Xuan Battalion has been struck by a barbarian ambush. The Lord was shot in the chest with an arrow and commands you to assume command of the battalion at once—please return to your post immediately!”

The bodyguard, drenched in blood, kept his voice low, wary of being overheard. “The Lord is unconscious. The men are escorting him to Yonggu City as we speak.”

Zhao Hengyi felt his heart sink into a fathomless abyss.

Given the medical standards of Great Yan, to be struck in the chest and fall unconscious in battle was to stand with one foot in the grave.

Clutching the blood-stained tally, Zhao Hengyi turned to his men and gave brisk orders. “Dahu, Erhu, come with me to the Xuan Battalion. Daniu, you stay here and work on the barbed wire with all your might!”

Elsewhere, Zhang Can, captain of the personal guard, wounded and unbandaged, knelt before Grand Marshal Zhang Chaoyang.

“Marshal, before he lost consciousness, my Lord pledged his life and honor to vouchsafe Master Zhao as commander of the Xuan Battalion!”

“On the way back to Yonggu City from Dangyang County, my Lord and Master Zhao devised many strategies to meet the enemy. Only Master Zhao now knows these plans!”

“Marshal, the crisis is dire. Only Master Zhao can save the Xuan Battalion!”

Atop the city wall, old Marshal Zhang Chaoyang’s face was creased with sorrow—such was fate. Chen Yongzhong’s blunders might well doom the tens of thousands within Yonggu City.

The only force capable of field battle outside the city, the Xuan Battalion, was nearly ruined. Commander Song lay gravely wounded and unconscious. And within the city, there was not a single soul who could replace him!

Song Ying’an had mentioned Zhao Hengyi before, but only as a craftsman skilled in making anti-cavalry devices. To Zhang Chaoyang, he was merely an accomplished blacksmith.

How could such a man be entrusted with the Xuan Battalion?

“Marshal, the thirteen personal guards of Lord Dangyang are willing to stake their lives on Master Zhao’s command!”

Hearing Zhang Can’s hoarse cry, Zhang Chaoyang waved a weary hand. “So be it!”

There was nothing left but to treat the dying horse as if it might yet live. He could only hope this blacksmith, whom Song Ying’an and his guards vouched for with their lives, could explain the plans to the officers of the Xuan Battalion.

With no one left to command, Zhang Chaoyang had already, in his heart, given up the Xuan Battalion.

Do not be fooled by the short distance between the Xuan Battalion’s camp and Yonggu City—barely ten miles. Retreating to the city was utterly out of the question.

The barbarian cavalry moved with the wind. Should the Xuan Battalion attempt to withdraw, they would be relentlessly pursued.

Not a soul would make it to the city, and even if the gates stood wide open, Yonggu City itself would be vulnerable to a surprise attack.

That was why, after Chen Yongzhong’s blunder brought the Xuan Battalion into contact with the enemy vanguard, they had been unable to return and regroup in the city, even at great cost.

The main barbarian force camped just beyond the pass; their cavalry’s mobility meant that the moment a retreat was spotted, they could strike in an instant.

Now, the Xuan Battalion was like a nail hammered into the enemy’s throat: even if every man perished, they could not move.

On the road to the Xuan Battalion camp, Zhao Hengyi encountered the gravely wounded Song Ying’an.

As if drawn by fate, Song Ying’an awoke from his stupor.

“Brother, I will not die so easily this time. The Xuan Battalion’s two thousand men are yours now—lead them to survive, I beg you.”

Seeing Song Ying’an’s deathly pallor, Zhao Hengyi nodded gravely.

The Xuan Battalion camp was a scene of devastation.

The clamorous battle had subsided, but the men’s spirits were broken; their faces were gaunt with despair, the groans of the wounded rising ceaselessly.

Yet, thanks to the unprecedented use of caltrops and barbed wire, the five hundred barbarian cavalry who attacked had failed and over a hundred had been captured.

“Bring all the prisoners to the front line!”

Whether the officers accepted him or not, Zhao Hengyi, military tally in hand, gave his first command as acting commander of the Xuan Battalion.

With Song Ying’an’s personal guards leading the enforcement squad, the men, though slow and sullen, obeyed.

“Behead these prisoners before the ranks, that our fallen brothers may have their due!”

This was his first order.