Chapter Ninety: The Battle of Boundary Bridge, Part Four — The Tragedy of White Horse

A command was given.

A thousand shields flipped up in an instant, the movement as swift as a gale.

Beneath them lay a thousand powerful crossbows, their sharp bolts flashing in the sunlight with a chill, sinister gleam.

In almost the same breath, Yan Gang sensed the danger.

The enemy formation ahead had spread into a vast fan shape, perfect for shooting; if not archers and crossbowmen, then what else could they be?

Compared with the bow, the crossbow demanded less strength from the soldier and yet struck with far greater force. Qu Yi's fan-shaped formation also allowed the thousand crossbowmen to concentrate their fire on the troops arriving first.

All thousand of the vanguard crossbowmen rose together and raised their weapons to fire.

"Fall back!"

Whoosh.

Yan Gang's roar was drowned out at once by the thunder of arrows and bolts.

It was true darkness beneath a storm of steel.

"A locust plague..." murmured one of the White Horse Cavalry.

A bolt pierced through his chest.

It also pierced the bodies of hundreds, even thousands, of men from Gongsun's army.

Blood mist filled the sky, so thick in its stench it seemed almost ready to凝 into gore.

Zhao Yun swung his silver spear; the bolts were so dense that even he narrowly avoided injury.

He drew back a little to shield the white horse, then looked back for Yan Gang's commands, but could not see them. He was just about to turn his mount and strike from the flank when the scattered cavalry behind him shoved him into the center of the formation.

On the battlefield, where was there any direction left to speak of?

The screams of the warhorses seemed to rouse heaven and earth to weeping together, and by now the White Horse Cavalry had suffered immense losses.

Yuan Shao and his entourage had long since come out of the tents, and what they saw left them staring in utter amazement.

Though the brilliance of the result filled them with exultation, the battle was not yet decided; what pained them all, rather, was the sacrifice of these precious horses.

A handful of cavalry, pressing through the hail of bolts, finally reached Qu Yi's line. They had always prided themselves on being elite, and their actions had always proved it.

But they had never imagined the situation would come to this.

No matter how mobile the light cavalry was, no matter how fierce the White Horse Cavalry might be, they had been shot to pieces before even reaching the enemy, suffering grievous losses. How could such a battle be fought?

Fortunately, at last, they had arrived.

These damned archers and crossbowmen would tremble beneath the iron hooves of the White Horse Cavalry!

What did losses matter? So long as they could charge through, all enemies would be nothing but chickens and dogs underfoot!

The white horses were nearly dyed red, and every rider looked as though he had fought his way out of hell, drenched in blood.

Just as they were ready to avenge themselves and begin a massacre--

the man spoke.

Qu Yi spoke.

He was like a devil.

His words were a death knell.

The axemen waiting beside the thousand archers and crossbowmen sprang out.

One stroke severed a horse's legs; one cleaving blow split a head.

Kill! Kill! Kill!

Kill anyone they saw, cut down as they pleased!

To spill blood on the field of battle—how exhilarating!

By contrast, the souls of the White Horse Cavalry had already been lost.

Those who had forced their way to the front suddenly did not know what to do; in their dazed confusion, they simply offered their necks to the slaughter.

"Remember this. My name is Qu Yi."

"This army is my Vanguard Camp."

"Vanguard Camp, advance!"

Clouds and wind surged, fierce fire swept the plains, cries of battle and shrieks of death interwove, while bloodlight and blade-glow flashed against one another.

From time to time, arrows and bolts still swept back and forth overhead, while the ground below had already become a river of blood.

This was war. This was a world in chaos. A hell upon earth, where every man was a devil.

This time it was no longer merely the vanguard, nor only the White Horse Cavalry, but the entire army.

Gongsun Zan's tens of thousands of elite troops had again collapsed like a mountain toppling, broken beyond repair.

Qu Yi gave the order to pursue; with only eighteen hundred men, they chased and shouted all the way, while a grand army of tens of thousands was beaten into wailing and panic. The whole force fell into utter chaos, cavalry and infantry alike scrambling to flee, unable to resist.

Yan Gang was shaking all over. He felt that his hands, usually brimming with strength, could no longer even lift his spear.

As commander, he had actually lost his composure and stood there like those spellbound riders.

"General, run!"

A soldier of Yuan's army raised a crossbow, and the bolt shot toward Yan Gang, only to be blocked by a White Horse Cavalryman who threw himself into the path of the shot.

Yan Gang finally came to his senses. He swung his blade and sent the young soldier flying into the air, but tears of blood nonetheless slid from his eyes.

What should I do? Fight, or retreat?

Fight? How could I fight? How does one fight after a total rout?

Retreat? How could I retreat? With arrows falling everywhere, how does one withdraw?

The White Horse Cavalry, a thousand mounted elites, has been ruined utterly. How can I, Yan Gang, face my lord now?

Grinding his steel teeth, eyes ready to split, Yan Gang drove straight against the fleeing troops and charged directly toward Yuan's camp.

"Dog thief! Return my men's lives to me!"

"Mere brute." Qu Yi's expression did not change. He wheeled his horse and raised his blade. Before three exchanges had passed, he struck Yan Gang down from his mount.

"The rebellion will be doomed sooner or later when Gongsun Zan uses trash like you as his generals."

Yuan camp.

"Qu Yi, unmatched indeed!" Yuan Shao was overjoyed.

He had considered that Qu Yi might win. This man was truly a commander of talent. Not to mention Yan Liang and Wen Chou, those two fierce generals who knew only how to charge and kill, even Zhang He and Gao Lan, so adept at commanding troops, were far inferior to him.

And yet Qu Yi had said he would use only his Vanguard Camp in this battle.

Yuan Shao had urged him, then rebuked him, but Qu Yi remained as proud as ever, and in the end he had no choice but to agree.

Considering the enormous disparity in strength between the two sides, Yuan Shao thought Qu Yi was more likely to lose, and from the look of the field before the battle even began, he had even prepared for a disastrous defeat.

The soldiers hidden on both sides of the valley under Yan Liang and Wen Chou were his trump card.

Yet the result was victory.

Victory so effortless, so overwhelming it shattered everything in its path.

With no time to celebrate, Yuan Shao personally rushed out of the camp gate and beat the war drums.

"Yan Liang, Wen Chou, Zhang He, Gao Lan—full army, charge!"

Gongsun's troops were thrown into turmoil; in the crush of feet, more were killed and wounded, but at last they steadied themselves.

Gongsun Zan had no time to think about anything else. Years of campaigning had not made him forget the situation.

The enemy had only a little over a thousand men! A few thousand horses could have trampled them to death just by charging through!

He roared and hacked at the same time, waving the banner of command. The defeated troops quickly rallied once more, and the flank formations that had suffered less loss also moved toward the center.

Seeing the army regrouping, Gongsun Zan urgently ordered the signal cannon to sound, then led his troops from the left and right, intending to charge back into battle, only to discover that large numbers of Yuan troops had emerged again from both sides of the valley ahead.

Yan Liang and Wen Chou each led a force, pinning down Gongsun's counterattack tightly. Seeing there was no way to turn the tide, Gongsun Zan had no choice but to lead his troops back toward the main camp, leaving part of his force behind to intercept Yuan's army.

This was the advantage of superior strength: Gongsun Zan could afford to lose. It hurt, but it would not kill him.

The rear guard withdrew to the edge of the bridge, then immediately threw themselves back into the fight. Even the soldiers assigned to cover the retreat outnumbered Qu Yi's Vanguard Camp by a considerable margin.

And yet Qu Yi himself was nowhere to be seen.

Arrows still poured down like a curtain of heaven and earth; Gongsun's soldiers suffered heavy losses, and the ground around the bridge was transformed into a sea of blood.

"Advance."

Only that one word again from Qu Yi.

It was this single word, "advance," that had taken no fewer than ten thousand lives today.

The eight hundred axemen surged forward once more, hacking apart the desperate remnants that still clung to their positions.

Not only was Qu Yi a master of command, his martial skill was formidable as well. Once more he spurred his horse into the front ranks, and with a few sweeping blows he cut down the standard-bearer of Gongsun's army, then brought down the banner in his hands.

Seeing the embroidered banner topple, and unable to withstand that fiend in battle, Gongsun Zan had no choice but to keep his troops fleeing.

It was not far now. Behind this bridge he still had another force waiting. Once he slipped through this pursuit, he would surely regroup his banners, and make Yuan Shao pay back blood with blood!