Chapter 1 The Heat of Battle

The fierce battle on the left flank had entered a fever pitch. War was like a tug-of-war; one wrong step led to a series of setbacks. Small disadvantages accumulated, eventually becoming a mountain that crushed you, leaving no chance for recovery.

Deng Jiu-ru continued to wave his command flag. At this point, there was little left to command. The entire camp was a chaotic mess, impossible to control.

With the troops’ formations completely disrupted, the general's orders couldn't be delivered. All that remained was a surge of courage, hoping to drive the wildlings out of the camp!

All the old general could do was wave the flag, so the soldiers could see it, giving them the confidence and faith to continue fighting.

For a commander, this was the most undesirable situation. The battle had completely slipped from his grasp. What difference was there between him and those shamans? What difference could there be? Both were just at the mercy of fate.

The wildlings' offensive was like a tide, their combat power astonishing to the Yan soldiers.

They charged forward fearlessly, again and again. To seize the moment and break through, their archers in the rear didn't hesitate to shoot arrows into the entangled, fighting mass of both sides.

Those wildling warriors struck by their own people's arrows showed no anger. Instead, they grinned savagely, snapping off the arrows embedded in their bodies and continuing to fight with blood in their mouths.

Whether the stars would protect them, whether the souls of the fallen would truly be guided by the stars, they didn't really care.

For hundreds of years, the Snow Plains had become ignorant due to numbness, leading them to immerse themselves in beautiful dreams, generation after generation. Perhaps only in this way could they withstand the bitter cold of the Snow Plains.

But now, that person's appearance had shown them the way. Their lives were no longer limited to the vast stars overhead at night. They had rediscovered the land beneath their feet and seen something called hope.

The King had said,

The future of the Sacred Tribe is not in the heavens, but ahead, right in front of us!

For what lies ahead,

Kill!

Kill!

Kill!

The Wildling King had never been fond of the Snow Plains' priests, or the star guides, as they were called. This was evident from his promotion of Sang Hu, who enjoyed killing the guides, to that very position.

Because in the Wildling King's heart, he himself was the star.

Not because he was great and brilliant,

But because he could, like the starlight, make the Snow Plains warriors believe in him, submit to him, and be willing to dedicate themselves and sacrifice for him.

Zheng Fan and the blind man had analyzed the Wildling King together, and both had concluded that he possessed not only a keen strategic vision but also a charismatic personality that captivated his people.

The emperors of other countries also called themselves the Son of Heaven, but in reality, the Son of Heaven was just a title, a supreme title, more of a supreme "official position" linked to the Dragon Throne than a divine role. But the Wildling King in the Snow Plains had already acquired the meaning of divinity.

The Yan army's hastily constructed outer camp was completely breached, and the wildlings began to frantically press against the Yan army's formation.

In this situation, individual bravery began to seem increasingly insignificant.

Sometimes, it wasn't that you wanted to retreat, but that you had to. This chain reaction caused the left flank to retreat uncontrollably.

"We can't retreat, brothers, we can't retreat! We can't retreat!"

Deng Jiu-ru shouted at the top of his lungs.

Behind them was the Great River!

"Kill, kill them back! If we kill them out, we can still wait for reinforcements, we can still wait for reinforcements!"

Although, the old general knew that the reinforcements were actually on the opposite bank, but due to the obstruction of the Chu navy, the width of the river was now like an insurmountable chasm.

The fighting continued for a long time. To Deng Jiu-ru's relief, his troops seemed to have stabilized their position. The courage of his men, the nature of the Yan people, had allowed them to withstand this sudden attack.

At least, it seemed that they had.

However, the problem for the Yan army was that internal command had been completely disrupted. On the wildling side, according to their initial plan, after two hours of fighting, the front army began to withdraw in an orderly manner, and the rear army began to replace them, completing the change of fresh troops. This was why Deng Jiu-ru thought his side seemed to be holding on.

The ground was covered with corpses, from both sides. In some places, they had even formed mountains of corpses. This was a genuine mountain of corpses and a sea of blood!

When that white wolfskin figure appeared on the battlefield,

The wildlings were completely沸腾了 (feiteng le - in a state of frenzy)!

The wildlings who had just been replaced fought even more bravely, while the Yan army could not carry out orderly replacements and rotations.

The battlefield area had been compressed to this small size. The Yan army in the rear could not get up, and the Yan army in the front was exhausted but could not retreat to rest. No matter how brave and fearless a soldier was, he was still a human being.

In the face of the wildlings' second wave of attacks, the Yan army began to rout on a large scale. The retreat of the front army squeezed the comrades in the rear, forcing them to retreat together uncontrollably.

At this time, even if the commander-in-chief ruthlessly ordered the killing of the retreating soldiers in front, it would be useless, because the great rout had already formed, like a riot in the camp at night, impossible to control until dawn.

Deng Jiu-ru, who had just breathed a sigh of relief, soon saw Yan soldiers being pushed into the river behind him. These soldiers were still wearing armor. Not to mention that few in the Yan army were good swimmers, even those who were would drown if they fell into the water wearing armor.

Deng Jiu-ru opened his mouth wide,

His lips were already bitten in several places, drawing blood.

His eyes began to grow somewhat vacant.

The wildlings' offensive continued, becoming even more fierce. The collapse of the Yan army was also accelerating.

Gradually, soldiers began to turn and run towards the river. Some had already started to remove their armor, hoping to swim across. The morale had been shattered by these actions.

Flight, escape, return, became what most of the soldiers were thinking. Knowing that there was a river behind them, the defeated soldiers had lost the courage to continue fighting the enemy. They would rather face being swallowed by the river and take a chance, no matter how slim, than turn back and fight the wildlings.

Deng Jiu-ru gasped for breath. The screams and shouts of battle around him seemed to be completely inaudible at this moment, as if he was completely isolated from this battlefield.

Groups of Yan soldiers were either voluntarily or driven into the river. For a time, the river was full of struggling Yan soldiers, many heads, many hands. Before long, the river began to be filled with dense corpses.

On the Chu warships, the Chu people were laughing and shooting Yan soldiers in the river with bows and crossbows. To them, it was not like fighting a war, but more like enjoying themselves.

The black dragon flag had once made the entire East tremble.

But now,

They were just a group of ridiculous toys, pigs falling into the water.

On the Chu navy's warships, Chu folk songs began to be sung. This scene made them cheer, made them feel ecstatic, and combined with the wails and screams of the Yan people on the river, it was so pleasant to the ear that it made their souls feel numb.

Haha,

The Yan people,

Are nothing more than this!

Deng Jiu-ru opened his mouth wide. He tried to shout, but his voice was completely hoarse, his throat full of the taste of blood.

He could hardly believe it,

Those on the river,

Were the soldiers of Great Yan,

Were the sons of Great Yan,

He had led them across the river,

But he could no longer take them back.

This wasn't real,

This wasn't real!

For a hundred years,

The Yan people had never been so badly defeated!

No,

Even for hundreds of years,

Even in defeat,

The Yan people faced forward, dying falling forward. When had they ever been so miserable?

But this time,

In his hands,

This scene,

Had appeared!

Deng Jiu-ru's eyes were full of tears,

Humiliation,

Grief and indignation,

Confusion,

The old general was like a demon.

For hundreds of years,

In his hands, the Yan people had lost their innate pride.

It was his fault,

It was his incompetence,

It was his unforgivable sin!

What family legacy,

What struggle for the throne by his grandson,

What court disputes and party strife,

Compared to what was happening before his eyes,

It was all a joke!

"General, we will escort you to break through!"

Deng's family soldiers, his personal guards, gathered around Deng Jiu-ru at this moment. The Great River behind them, they couldn't cross it, they really couldn't cross it. So, they planned to desperately escort Deng Jiu-ru to break out, even if they couldn't cross the river for the time being, as long as they broke out and hid, there would eventually be a chance to escape!

Deng Jiu-ru pushed away his loyal guards,

Because he had no hair or beard, he didn't have the disheveled appearance of someone in distress, but the hysteria in his eyes was so clear.

"I am the commander of the left flank, I will not retreat!"

Deng Jiu-ru continued to raise the command flag.

"I am a member of the Deng family, I will not retreat!"

The battle flag continued to wave.

"I am the father-in-law of the current emperor, I will not retreat!"

The wildlings began to break through, and Deng's family soldiers began to fight with the surrounding wildlings.

The old general was old, and the qi and blood of an old martial artist were in decline. Even if he had been a good soldier in his youth, at this age, it was difficult to mobilize his qi and blood to fight.

He leaned on the battle flag,

His eyes fixed on the front,

Deng's family soldiers were falling one by one.

At this time, his own old age became Deng Jiu-ru's most frustrating thing.

The commander of an army didn't need to be like Tian Wu-jing, a high-ranked martial artist. Like Marquis Zhen Bei, he could still command the army to attack and capture cities while chatting and laughing.

But Deng Jiu-ru wished he could be younger. If he were still young, if his qi and blood hadn't declined to this point, he could have killed a few more wildlings to serve as his cushion to the afterlife!

"Swish!"

An arrow struck Deng Jiu-ru's chest.

Deng Jiu-ru knelt down on one knee, leaning on the command flag, his right hand gripping the flagpole, his left hand clutching the arrow that had pierced his chest, blood constantly flowing from his mouth.

A black figure instantly killed several Deng family soldiers and appeared in front of Deng Jiu-ru. It was Sang Hu, the commander of the Wildling King's personal guard.

At this time, Sang Hu was also covered in wounds, some so deep that bone was visible, but he had the last laugh. Victory was certain!

He took the lead and came to the Yan general, and like a priest, began to chant:

"The stars are above, if you are willing to surrender, you will be granted warm light."

This was persuasion to surrender,

A condescending persuasion,

A persuasion that vividly interpreted the victor's posture.

Rather than persuading him to surrender,

It was better to say that he was taking this opportunity to satisfy his spiritual needs.

Look,

The high and mighty Yan general,

Is kneeling at my feet,

He will beg for my mercy, he will implore my forgiveness!

Deng Jiu-ru grinned,

At this time,

Using all the strength in his body,

He opened his mouth and said:

"One day, my Great Yan iron cavalry will sweep across the Snow Plains..."

Sang Hu's eyes darkened.

"The wildlings will be exterminated!"

Deng Jiu-ru shouted out the last three words,

At the same time,

Before Sang Hu could act,

Deng Jiu-ru directly grabbed the arrow in his chest and thrust it deeper into his body.

"Puff!"

Sang Hu's raised hand had not yet fallen when the old general committed suicide in front of him.

Even in death, his body remained kneeling and unyielding, supported by the command flag.

"Hehe."

"Bang!"

Sang Hu kicked the old general's body over.

He squatted down and put his mouth to the old general's ear, whispering:

"In the Snow Plains, only tribes that are about to be exterminated utter such pale and useless curses in despair."

After speaking, he seemed to feel that it was not enough, and added:

"The Sacred Tribe will surely prosper."

At the moment,

On the river,

Chu songs floated in the wind;

On the river surface,

The corpses of the Yan people floated downstream.