Chapter 41 : Breaking the Formation
Chapter 41: Breaking the Formation
Half an hour later.
The Luntai Army, Bandit-Subduing Army, and Prefectural City Army—forty-five thousand elite soldiers in total—had all landed after losing three thousand men.
On the riverbank, iron armor gleamed coldly, war banners snapped in the wind, and the battle formations stretched like a forest.
Just as tension on the main battlefield reached its peak, a sudden thunder of hooves echoed from the north of the enemy camp.
The twenty thousand Queshe Army led by Aruba appeared like ghosts behind the rebel forces.
These elite cavalrymen from the grasslands each carried a longbow on their backs and a curved saber flashing cold light at their waists.
They did not rush to charge but rode along the outer edge of the rebels’ trenches and barricades, maintaining a perfect distance.
“Loose the arrows!”
At Aruba’s command, twenty thousand powerful bows were drawn in unison.
The shrill whine of arrows cutting through the air instantly drowned out the sounds of battle.
A dense rain of arrows traced graceful arcs in the sky, falling precisely into the rear ranks of the rebels.
The rear formation of the rebels was thrown into chaos at once.
A centurion had just raised his shield when three sharp arrows strangely curved around its edge, piercing his throat, chest, and forehead.
Even more terrifyingly, the arrows exploded upon impact, scattering countless fine, hair-like poisoned needles.
The disturbance in the rear quickly spread to the central ranks.
The rebel soldiers were forced to raise their shields and form a tortoise formation, yet still could not block the penetrating rain of arrows.
The rebel commander stood upon a high platform in the central army, gazing toward the distant hillside where black figures galloped in tight formation.
His expression was dark enough to drip water.
He had originally planned to form a battle array along the riverbank, using the terrain to annihilate the coalition’s infantry.
But now, with the sudden appearance of the Queshe Army, his rear line was thrown into utter disarray.
What alarmed him even more was the terrifying marksmanship of these Queshe Warriors, who could shoot and kill his men from two to three hundred zhang away.
In rage, he slammed his fist onto the railing, splitting the hard ironwood into several deep cracks.
“Transmit my order! Contract the line! The rear army will change to the ‘Black Tortoise Formation,’ and the front army will fall back fifty paces!”
The rebel leader ground his teeth as he gave the order.
He knew that if the formation wasn’t adjusted immediately, his army would soon be split into two separate battlefields.
As the horns blared, the rebels began to withdraw slowly, leaving gaps in their once-tight riverfront defense line.
The coalition on the riverbank would never miss such an opportunity.
Yan Chen’s Prefectural City Army was the first to move forward, their heavy infantry advancing in perfect step.
Their black-iron shields gleamed coldly under the sunlight, forming a moving wall of steel.
On their left flank, Qin Wei’s Bandit-Subduing Army surged forward like a drawn blade, their wedge-shaped formation piercing straight into the enemy’s core.
On the right, Ma Fei commanded the Luntai Army in a spread-wing formation, with fire-crossbowmen on both wings raining flaming arrows to suppress the flanking rebels.
Within the rebel ranks, several Divine Power Realm generals could no longer sit still.
At the forefront, a dark-faced giant roared and yanked the stopper from a copper gourd at his waist.
A fiery serpent, dozens of zhang long, burst out and charged toward the Luntai Army formation.
But Ma Fei had already anticipated this.
He unfurled the Fire Banner, and violet-red flames coalesced into a magnificent fiery bird, colliding midair with the fire serpent.
The two torrents of flame clashed, exploding with deafening thunder.
Sparks scattered in all directions, setting ablaze every patch of grass within a hundred steps.
Almost simultaneously, Han Mingzi, standing atop the river waves, formed hand seals.
The waters of the Cangbei River boiled, and hundreds of ice spikes shot toward the Prefectural City Army like a storm.
“Descend, Thunder!”
Yan Chen bellowed, and the Five-Thunder True Talisman on his chest flared to life.
A thick bolt of lightning struck down from the heavens, exploding into a massive thunder net that shattered all the incoming ice spikes.
Yet the most dangerous of all was Yin Jiu, hidden in the rear ranks of the rebels.
The successor of the Soul-Chasing Arrows had never shown himself, but his arrows were deadlier than vipers.
Three pitch-black arrows flew silently through the chaos of battle, aimed straight for Qin Wei’s throat.
At the last instant, Qin Wei’s instincts kicked in—his blade flashed horizontally, and sparks burst as the three arrows were sliced into six fragments that clattered to the ground.
His gaze turned sharp as lightning, instantly locking onto a blurry figure three hundred zhang away.
With the enemy’s three main generals engaged, the coalition armies began to coordinate with flawless precision, pressing forward through intricate formations.
Empowered by their blood-energy arrays, the vanguard soldiers of the three armies unleashed blows infused with tremendous vitality.
As for the rebels, their hastily trained troops could never match such seamless coordination.
Their formations kept revealing gaps, which the coalition troops exploited without mercy.
From his high platform, the rebel leader saw his three top generals being restrained while his army was being steadily pushed back.
“If we can hold on for a few more hours, Iskandar’s Blue Wolf Cavalry will arrive! Then the tide will turn!”
A fierce glint flashed in his eyes as he looked toward the distant hillside where the Queshe Army still harassed his rear.
“Damn Great Zhou dogs… all of you can die together.”
With that thought, he pulled out a skull-shaped artifact from his waist.
It was forged by a great shaman of Great Liao, imbued with thick baleful energy capable of driving men mad.
He bit his finger and let a drop of blood fall onto the artifact.
The skull instantly came to life.
Two ghostly green flames ignited in its hollow eyes, and a billowing black mist gushed out from its seven orifices.
Within moments, the black fog enveloped half the rebel camp.
Wherever it spread, rebel soldiers’ eyes turned blood-red, muscles swelled, and inhuman howls erupted from their throats.
As the black fog was absorbed into their bodies, all fear and hesitation vanished.
They became ferocious beasts, hurling themselves suicidally at the coalition’s defenses.
The rebel leader clearly viewed them as expendable pawns.
Of course, he did not truly belong to the rebels—he was a spy from Great Liao.
To him, watching Great Zhou tear itself apart was the greatest pleasure of all.
On the battlefield.
As the rebels fell into madness, Yan Chen and the other commanders gradually sensed that something was wrong.
The rebel soldiers’ eyes glowed red, their muscles bulged, and their blood-energy surged violently, making them several times fiercer than before.
Even worse, their once-disordered formations now moved in perfect unison, attacking and defending with unnatural coordination.
Yan Chen’s expression darkened.
He slammed his heavy shield into the ground, crushing several charging foes, alarm rising in his heart.
That black mist—something was definitely strange about it! Could it be forcibly uniting their morale?
Qin Wei swung his blade in a wide arc, cutting down an enemy general.
Through the smoke and flame, he exchanged a distant look with Yan Chen and Ma Fei.
All three were veterans of countless battles.
Without words, they knew that pressing the attack further was no longer wise.
In near-perfect synchrony, the three armies abruptly halted.
The front lines rotated to the rear, shields forming walls and spears rising like a forest.
Within moments, an impenetrable defensive formation was established.
Before the rebel commanders could react, the ground began to tremble.
“Boom! Boom! Boom!”
The sound of thunderous hooves rolled from the direction of the riverbank.
From within the dust clouds, a tide of black-armored cavalry charged forth like a torrent of steel.
At their head rode a man clad in heavy black-iron armor, wielding a massive flower-patterned battle axe as large as a door panel.
His warhorse was draped in scale armor, its eyes gleaming blood-red.
It was none other than the commander of the Black-Armored Army—Cheng Yaojin!
“Hahaha! Your grandpa has arrived!”
Cheng Yaojin’s laughter thundered across the battlefield as he swung his giant axe in a wide arc, its blade bursting into a blinding golden light.