Chapter 51 : The Edge of the Guan Ning Iron Cavalry
Chapter 51: The Edge of the Guan Ning Iron Cavalry
The month of May scorched Loulan County beneath a blazing sun.
Once again, the Blue Wolf Army’s grain convoy met its doom upon the Gobi Desert.
The leading hundred grain carts had just circled around a sand dune when sharp, piercing cries of eagles tore through the air.
Thirty Skyhawks, each bearing pouches of oil, dove and dropped their payloads with deadly precision right at the center of the convoy!
“It’s the Queshe Army’s trained hawks! Scatter—!”
The escorting captain’s shout was cut short.
Aruba’s armor-piercing arrow had already pierced through his throat—followed by a downpour of arrows that blotted out the sky.
The Blue Wolf Cavalry was about to counterattack when the ground behind them began to quake—Qin Qiong himself led three thousand Black-Armored Cavalry to sever their retreat.
This kind of massacre had already played out seven times in the past ten days.
The Blue Wolf Army had not been without countermeasures: when they transported grain at night, the Queshe Army released night owls wreathed in ghostly flames; when they divided their forces, the Black-Armored Army used their Skyhawks as eyes to strike each column in turn.
The most despairing moment came when the grain convoy was within sight of Bloodsand Fort, yet the defenders atop the walls could only watch helplessly as the carts ignited three hundred steps away under a rain of flaming arrows.
The trenches and watchtowers built by the three great infantry legions trapped them inside the city like a cage.
As for sending the Blue Wolf infantry out to meet the enemy, hoping the cavalry could flank and rescue them—that would only fall straight into Jiang Zhaoming’s rhythm.
In the early days of the war, they still had a chance to sally out and fight from a position of advantage before the coalition completed their siegeworks.
But once the coalition’s outer fortifications were completed, the Blue Wolf Army completely lost that chance.
Now, they had only two choices: either abandon the infantry trapped within the three cities, or fight a decisive battle exactly where Jiang Zhaoming wanted them to.
To the Blue Wolf Army, both choices were disasters—one merely worse than the other. The initiative was entirely out of their hands.
Their hesitation, however, was precisely what Jiang Zhaoming had anticipated.
Inside the grand hall of Loulan County’s government office, the air itself seemed frozen.
“The seventh time! The seventh time already!”
Iskandar slammed his palm against the sandalwood desk before him. It splintered under his blow, sawdust scattering as his bloodshot eyes locked upon the strategist kneeling below—Murong Chui.
“This is your brilliant transport plan? Sending my Blue Wolf sons to die in vain?”
Murong Chui’s forehead pressed tightly against the floor, his robes on his back soaked through with cold sweat. “Your Highness, please quell your anger—it’s truly the Queshe Army’s trained hawks…”
“Trained hawks?”
Iskandar laughed in fury, drawing his gem-inlaid curved blade a few inches from its sheath.
“I keep you strategists not to hear how mighty the enemy is!”
General Ashina quickly stepped forward. “Your Highness, the urgent matter now is to relieve the siege of the three cities. Though Strategist Murong has erred, his analysis of that mysterious northern cavalry is not without merit…”
At the mention of that cavalry, Iskandar’s rage subsided slightly.
Three days prior, their scouts had reported a mysterious force of about ten thousand black-armored horsemen suddenly appearing north of Loulan.
They raised no banners and made no assaults, merely stationed themselves quietly a hundred li away upon the Gobi.
Even stranger, every envoy they had sent either returned riddled with arrows—or never returned at all.
With a gloomy expression, Iskandar asked, “Have we found out whose army they are?”
Murong Chui cautiously lifted his head. “The scouts reported that their armor design was strange, unlike any known to us. They may come from the west.”
“The west?”
Iskandar frowned, pacing across the hall in agitation, his boots clacking against the floor tiles.
Before dawn, the Blue Wolf Army’s main camp burned bright with torchlight.
Iskandar finally made his decision.
He would leave ten thousand Iron Cavalry to monitor the mysterious northern army, while personally leading the main forces south to strike at Jinsha and Huangping Counties.
The remaining twenty-five thousand Iron Cavalry, twenty thousand Mounted Archers, twenty thousand Blue Wolf Heavy Infantry, and seventeen thousand Loulan troops would all march simultaneously.
Under cover of night, the army assembled—their heavy armor gleaming like a sea of moving metal beneath the firelight.
“Transmit my order.”
Iskandar mounted his horse. Beneath his wolf-headed helm, his eyes gleamed savagely.
“This battle—no prisoners, no spoils! I want only the heads of the Black-Armored and Queshe troops!”
At that very moment, atop the city wall of Jinsha County, Jiang Zhaoming suddenly opened his eyes.
The warnings from Qin Qiong and Aruba struck his mind almost simultaneously: “Your Highness, the Blue Wolf main force has moved.”
A faint smile curved Jiang Zhaoming’s lips. At his thought, far away in the Guan Ning Iron Cavalry’s camp, their commander Zhao Shuijiao suddenly raised his head.
His Highness’s will thundered through his mind: “Guan Ning Iron Cavalry—advance south immediately!”
Moments later—
Zhao Shuijiao reined in his steed, his command flag snapping in the wind.
Behind him, thirty thousand Guan Ning Iron Cavalry stood in rigid ranks, their dark armor glimmering faintly beneath the Gobi sun.
Unlike ordinary cavalry, these warriors’ breastplates were fitted with sockets for gun barrels; lead-ball pouches hung from their waists, and on each saddle rested a fearsome three-barreled fire lance.
Each weapon, seven feet long and forged entirely of blacksteel, was etched with blood-red runes that enhanced range and power—their lines seemed to flow like living flames.
“Zhu Mei!” Zhao Shuijiao’s voice boomed like thunder. “Take the First Guard—ten thousand riders—and annihilate the Blue Wolf detachment blocking the northern pass! Then move south!”
Vice-General Zhu Mei cupped his fists in salute, a bloodthirsty gleam flashing beneath his mask.
As he swung his goose-feathered saber through the air, ten thousand riders wheeled as one—their iron hooves making the Gobi stones tremble.
Each soldier had reached the Blood Refining Realm, their qi and blood linked into one. Above their ranks faintly shimmered the spectral form of a winged black tiger.
This was the Guan Ning Army’s unique “Flying Tiger Break Formation”!
Two and a half days later, the Blue Wolf Iron Cavalry heading north sensed something amiss.
Their commander, the valiant general Wushutai, squinted toward the horizon—then his face changed drastically.
“That cavalry truly harbors ill intent! Fortunately, His Highness was wise to send us to investigate. Men—attack!”
On the horizon, the ten thousand Guan Ning Iron Cavalry suddenly shifted formation mid-charge. The frontmost riders leveled their triple-barreled lances in unison.
Those seven-foot-long weapons gleamed under the sun as the runes along their barrels flared blood-red.
“Fire!”
Zhu Mei’s roar cracked like thunder.
“BOOM! BOOM! BOOM—!”
The first volley swept across the plain like the scythe of death.
The special armor-piercing lead bullets, empowered by myriad runes, flew faster than arrows by severalfold!
The foremost Blue Wolf riders were torn apart, man and horse alike reduced to bloody fragments; those behind who raised their iron shields were blasted skyward by exploding thunder shells.
After just three volleys, four thousand Blue Wolf Iron Cavalry had become a field of corpses.
“Change formation! Engage in close combat!”
Wushutai’s roar was hoarse, veins bulging on his forehead.
A cultivator of the early Divine Power Realm, he swung his wolf-fang mace, whipping up bloody gales that deflected every bullet that came his way.
But the Guan Ning Iron Cavalry’s slaughter had only begun.
With a sharp mechanical click, ten thousand triple-barreled guns retracted their barrels, revealing cold gleaming spearheads.
Zhu Mei grinned and unhooked another monstrous weapon from his saddle—a six-foot-long Hundred-Shot Rotating Fire Gun.
The weapon resembled a wolf brush, but its head was a revolving cluster of barrels!
“Flying Tiger Formation—charge!”
The ten thousand riders surged forward, the black tiger phantom above them solidifying instantly.
The Blue Wolf riders in front barely raised their curved blades before their throats were pierced by thrusting gun-spears.
Those attempting to flank were shredded by the sweeping fire of the rotating guns.
Even Wushutai’s three hundred personal guards, though valiant, were overwhelmed—after cutting down a few Guan Ning riders, they were skewered from all directions into a grisly hedgehog.