Volume 3: Heroes Are Silent, Earth and Heaven Grow Old - Chapter 25: The Fisherman IV

On the chaotic battlefield, Li Jing hacked his way through the melee with great effort until he reached Deng She. Having also noticed the turmoil in Xu Ren's division, he shouted desperately, "General! We must, we must crush the enemy facing our cavalry before General Xu's division collapses. Otherwise, the, the consequences will be unimaginable!"

As he spoke, a look of shame crossed his face.

The reality was laid bare before them. Under the surging charge of the Yuan dynasty's iron cavalry, Yang Wanhu's division from Shuangcheng still stood firm, while Xu Ren's division—hailing from Liaoyang like Li Jing himself—was on the verge of giving way. In the brutal crucible of war, victory and military merit were earned through blood and steel; there was no room for falsehoods, and no one could fake it. Comparing the two sides, the superior and the inferior were self-evident in everyone's hearts.

"In your estimation, how much longer can General Xu's division hold out?" Li Jing was an old comrade of Xu Ren, and Deng She knew that Li Jing was more familiar with the combat effectiveness of Xu Ren's troops than he was, so Deng She asked him directly.

Knowing that this was a critical juncture affecting the entire battle, Li Jing dared not conceal the truth. Feeling as though he had just slapped his own face, his face flushed red. After observing for a moment, he replied, "Reporting to the General, at most two quarter-hours."

...

"I told you so long ago, those goddamned Liaoyang dogs are completely untrustworthy. Dammit, sure enough, he can't hold the line!" Tieniu roared as he lunged and tackled a dismounted Yuan soldier to the ground. His spear was too long to thrust back in time, so he sank his teeth directly into the man's neck.

The enemy was quite strong, and after fighting for so long, even an iron ox would have grown exhausted. Tieniu failed to pin him down properly and was almost bucked off by the struggling enemy. Shoushou saw this clearly; dodging a charging Yuan cavalryman, he leaped over, picked up a short sword that someone had dropped on the ground, and yelled, "Let go!"

Tieniu released his bite and lifted his head slightly. Shoushou grabbed the enemy by the hair, pinned his head down with one hand, and drove the short sword straight through his neck. Turning to look at Tieniu, he was startled to see his face covered in blood, with fresh crimson dripping drop by drop from his bright red lips, panting heavily with stark white teeth bared—looking utterly ferocious, like a wild dog that had just snatched its prey.

"Damn you, you should just change your name to Iron Dog!"

Amidst the slaughter of men and the collision of shields and horses, Tieniu glared at him, bared his teeth in a grin, and started chanting a mocking rhyme to Shoushou: "...bowing your head to play with a big banana."

One standing and one crouching, the two of them looked like bloodthirsty beasts, mocking and teasing each other with their eyes. A short spear cut through the gaps between the combatants, whistling through the air as it shot straight toward them. The sharp spearhead gleamed with a chilling, malicious light. Neither of them was prepared, and just as the spearhead was about to reach them, a shield thrust forward and blocked it.

The owner of the shield was none other than Fang Mohan. Staggering back two steps from the immense impact of the short spear, he casually dropped the shield, kicked Tieniu hard in the body, and shrieked, "If you bastards don't want to die, get your asses up!"

He pointed to the left and right, shouting, "Whether that fellow surnamed Xu retreats or not, there is the Grand General's military law! Didn't you see? Our General Yang is still holding the front line!"

The Yuan troops had been attacking for nearly an hour, and the line where Fang Mohan was stationed had become the absolute vanguard. Looking forward, corpses littered the ground; looking backward, a hundred paces away, a narrow trench had been hastily dug while the frontline was engaged in bloody combat. Red Turban soldiers were running about, dragging remaining carts, chevaux-de-frise, and caltrops together in an attempt to rapidly re-establish a new and stable defense line.

Yang Wanhu's personal guards galloped through the formation, holding small flags and shouting at the top of their lungs: "By order of the Grand General, by order of General Yang: whoever retreats a single step will be beheaded! Whoever slaughters a Tartar will be rewarded!"

Within Xu Ren's division, despite the desperate efforts of the officers to enforce discipline, fleeing soldiers had begun to appear in twos and threes. However, they simply could not get past the makeshift second defense line. Right behind the line, over a hundred hastily mobilized discipline-enforcement officers glared at them like tigers eyeing their prey. Anyone who dared cross the line would be executed on the spot without mercy.

Xu Ren bared his upper body at the vanguard, consumed by shame. One of his personal guards—a close kinsman from his own clan—grabbed his robe and pleaded bitterly for his safety, "General, the Tartars' vanguard is too fierce; let us fall back for now. With General Yang holding the line, we can make the second defense line our primary stronghold..." Before he could finish, Xu Ren snatched the saber from his hand and severed his head with a single flash of the blade.

The guard's head, expression frozen in shock and disbelief, flew through the air. Above the sea of countless heads, it traced a bloody arc and fell far away. Xu Ren ripped open the lapel of his robe and tore off his upper body armor. If they retreated in this battle, not only would Pan Mei certainly die and Guan Duo fly into a rage, but Liaoyang's pride would be utterly lost before the Shuangcheng forces.

He burst forth with a mighty roar, mimicking Deng She by slashing his arm with a blade and smearing his face with blood: "Today we fight to the death against the enemy, with no thought of survival! From this general down, anyone who dares retreat a single step will be beheaded! If there are brothers in the army, execution extends to them! If there are family members in the city, every last one shall be slaughtered! If we win, I shall report this to Grand Councilor Guan; brothers shall share the rewards, and family taxes shall be remitted!"

He pointed his saber backward and barked orders at the discipline enforcers: "Hang the heads of the deserters! Bring me the battle standard and place it at the front of the formation to serve as a warning to others!"

The enforcers moved swiftly. Within a few breaths, dozens of previously executed deserters had their heads severed and hung high upon a dozen poles. Xu Ren bellowed, "Where is the Goshawk Banner?"

The death-defying shock troops were represented by the Goshawk Banner. Hearing the call, the leader of the death squad leaped forward. Xu Ren pointed his saber toward the front lines: "The left flank, one hundred paces! You have half a quarter-hour to break the enemy formation and rout them!"

The leader of the death squad loudly accepted the command, grasping the Goshawk Banner in one hand and raising his saber with the other. With an impassoned cry, over a hundred stalwart warriors armed with massive battle-axes rushed forward shouting. Carrying a dozen poles hung high with the heads of deserters, the group looked like crazed tigers as they screamed and crashed into the enemy formation.

"Where is the Tiger Banner?"

The Tiger Banner was the standard of the elite troops. Xu Ren seized it with his own hands, drove it firmly into the ground before his feet, and declared with ironclad resolve, "While the banner stands, I live; if the banner falls, I die."

At the rear, a desolate and stirring song drifted over on the wind. Initiated by Deng She and joined in unison by the cavalry, they sang: "The northern barbarians are heartless, treating men as dogs; we shall die wrapped in horse hides without end. Going down to the springs to summon our old comrades, we raise our banners anew to slaughter this vengeance."

Xu Ren laughed up at the sky and declared, "The Tartars are brutal, seizing our homes and slaughtering our wives and children; this hatred is endless, surviving even unto death. My lords, even should we die, you and I as brothers shall follow one another to raise hell in the netherworld and slaughter those damned Tartars clean once more!"

The setting sun sank westward, casting a crimson glow across the sky. The commander roused their courage, and the army fought with all their might. The sound of drums rolled without cease as thousands of Red Turban soldiers sang in unison: "Going down to the springs to summon our old comrades, we raise our banners anew to slaughter this vengeance."

At first, only the Shuangcheng troops beat their chests and roared with all their might: "We willingly pledge our lives to follow the Grand General; wherever the Grand General's banner points, we shall fight unto death without end."

The roars grew ever louder until, in the end, even the Liaoyang Red Turbans—including Xu Ren and Li Jing—became like madmen, hair disheveled and feet stamping, howling like wolves: "We willingly pledge our lives to follow the Grand General; wherever the Grand General's banner points, we shall fight unto death without end."

In a trance, it felt as though they had returned to that distant era. Beneath fluttering black banners, countless soldiers stripped off their armor, bearing severed heads in their left hands and captives in their right, pursuing their enemies while utterly forgetting the perils of life and death.

The morale of the entire army surged to a climax once more. This iron-blooded, hair-raising spectacle was like a midnight nightmare; panic and trembling fear rippled through the Yuan ranks as men cried out in horror one after another: "Eternal Blue Sky above... they've gone mad!"

Xu Ren's division had stabilized its footing, and Deng She made his decisive move.

"Lacking routine encouragement, a moment of reckless bravery cannot sustain itself for long." He broke out of the enemy formation, spurred his horse onto a high ridge, temporarily ignoring the front lines to observe the rear with total concentration. He issued his orders: Bi Qianniu's grand standard echoed and fluttered in coordination with He Guangxiu's division and the charging cavalry banner of Li Jing. Seeking life in a desperate death, Deng She decided to employ a bold tactic.

"Order: Have the left and right wings of He Guangxiu's division fall back sixty paces, and the center division fall back forty paces. While enticing the Tartars to press forward, mobilize the reserve forces for battle." The reserve forces, naturally, were the reinforcements.

The Twin Rabbits Banners of He Guangxiu's division, representing the reserve army, slowly split toward the left and right. Slight disorder broke out during the retreat of the flanks, causing Deng She's heart to leap into his throat; only when they regained their formation did he finally let out a sigh of relief.

"Order: Li Jing's cavalry division is to engage the enemy in skirmish formation—squads of twenty-five men, linked front and rear, mutually supporting the flanks. Scatter and infiltrate the Tartar army; do not seek to kill the enemy, but ensure that your elite units sow utter chaos among their ranks."

This skirmishing formation resembled guerrilla warfare, utilizing elite troops to infiltrate enemy lines. If successful, it would achieve the objective of disrupting enemy deployment and confusing their command structure.

The Yuan commanders may or may not have discerned Deng She's intentions. Regardless, the shortage of junior officers on their side led to a failure in maintaining discipline, and the Yuan forces in the rear command fell step by step into the trap.

The Red Turbans were few, while the Yuan forces were many—this was the disadvantage of the Red Turbans. However, the Red Turbans were well-trained and possessed soaring morale, which constituted their advantage. Deng She was putting everything on the line, wagering his own strengths. He had no choice but to gamble. Just as he had judged, the momentary bravery of the Red Turbans could not possibly endure; once morale plummeted, rather than facing inevitable defeat sooner or later, it was better to try for a miraculous turnaround from the jaws of death.

He pressed his lips into a thin line and issued his final order: "Order Yang Wanhu and Xu Ren to hold firm at all costs; the second defense line is our absolute boundary." At this crucial moment, flag signals were insufficient to convey his intent. Deng She glanced around and singled out a personal guard. "Go tell them: the favorable moment for our army's victory has arrived, and the credit for half a day of bitter struggle shall belong to them above all others. Order them to hold out for one more hour; before the sun sets, the outcome will be decided."

He raised his voice and commanded, "Tell He Guangxiu to unfurl the banners!"

Two towering banners, over a dozen feet tall, snapped and billowed atop the drum platform. On the apricot-yellow flags, bold characters brushed in black ink inscribed a couplet: the first line read, "The mountains and rivers completely embrace the lands of China," and the second line read, "The sun and moon reopen the skies of the great Song."

This was the couplet erected outside the provincial gates by Zhu Yuanzhang of Jiangnan after he captured Wuzhou at the end of last year and established the Zhejiang-East Branch Secretariat under the Zhongshu Sheng. In a mere fourteen characters, the ambition and spirit of heroes leaped off the fabric, spreading across Jiangnan and Hebei. Guan Duo loved the meaning behind it and borrowed it for their own use.

Having inspired the courage of his troops, Deng She encouraged the officers around him once more: "Soldiers! Our sovereign is blessed with martial genius, while the brutal Yuan is tyrannical. Heaven is reforming the mandate of the Yuan, and Heaven's mandate rests with us. In this battle of Liaoning, if we win, all lands beyond the pass shall belong to our Song. The season of enfeoffment is upon us this very day!"

Watching He Guangxiu's division complete its deployment, seeing that the Yuan vanguard had penetrated dozens of paces into the Red Turban formation, he decisively roared: "Charge!"

The center division of He Guangxiu's division fought fiercely in a stalemate with the enemy. Reinforced by the reserves, the left and right wings surged forward, instantly enveloping the enemy in the center. The moment the enemy attempted to retreat, they pressed forward in a panning maneuver to encircle their rear, striving for total annihilation. Turning his gaze to the Yuan formation, Li Jing's Flying Bird Banner galloped back and forth, successfully disrupting the command chain of the Yuan forces. The hastily assembled tribal levies of the Prince of Liao fell into complete disarray.