Chapter 3

As night deepened, the sky and earth were shrouded in darkness. A fierce, cold wind from beyond the Yanmen Pass howled, carrying with it large amounts of sand and ice, striking against the iron plates of Lu Yao's armor, producing a fine, sharp sound. Although he had been away from his warm and humid hometown for many years, Lu Yao still found it difficult to adapt to the cold climate of the north. He couldn't help but shiver and vigorously rubbed his stiff face.

A day and a night of intense fighting had left the walls of the fort severely damaged, with sand and earth collapsing to form several gaps. The Jin army had been working since dusk to construct wooden barriers to block these gaps and then fill them with earth to reinforce them. Everyone knew that the more solid the walls, the greater their chances of survival, so they did not dare to slack off in this work. Meanwhile, the nomads continuously sent small, elite units to harass the Jin army's efforts, even attempting to breach the fort through these gaps. The two sides thus engaged in intermittent battles until the middle of the night.

Just a moment ago, Lu Yao had finally supervised the installation of the last wooden barrier, repelling two more waves of nomad attacks, leaving dozens of bodies inside and outside the fort. Now, he was once again inspecting the walls, vigilant for any possible oversights.

Several soldiers followed behind Lu Yao, checking the newly added bodies on the wall. Whenever they found a Xiongnu, they would deliver a deep, fatal cut to the throat. The Xiongnu were naturally fierce; even if they were severely injured and unconscious, they could still rejoin the fight upon regaining consciousness. Many times, a frenzied Xiongnu would suddenly leap out from a pile of bodies and wreak havoc. The Jin army's response was simple: after the battle, they would always deliver a final blow to ensure no one could pose a threat again.

Sure enough, the same thing happened again. A Xiongnu "corpse" at a corner suddenly leaped up, wielding a short knife and lunging at Lu Yao, who was facing away. As an officer, Lu Yao's armor and attire were different from those of ordinary soldiers. The Xiongnu had clearly been planning this for a while, aiming accurately and moving swiftly.

Hearing the wind behind him, Lu Yao quickly turned around. Despite his quick reflexes, he only managed to grab the enemy's hand and the knife handle just in time. The force of the charge pushed him back several steps, and his back collided with the crenellation. The Xiongnu pressed his entire weight onto the knife handle, the sharp tip of the blade just an inch from Lu Yao's chest.

Lu Yao's face remained unchanged. He braced against the deadly short knife and exerted all his strength with his fingers. The Xiongnu's thick hand made a bone-cracking sound and twisted. Lu Yao then forcibly redirected the short knife, thrusting it deeply into the Xiongnu's chest, burying it to the hilt.

The Xiongnu's eyes widened, and he struggled for a few moments before becoming still.

Lu Yao pushed the Xiongnu's body away with disgust, straightened up, and adjusted his disheveled outer robe. Only then did the soldiers react, rushing to his aid. They cursed and delivered several more cuts to the Xiongnu's throat, ensuring he was dead beyond any doubt.

Lu Yao himself did not feel the tension of a near-death experience. He ignored the admiring looks of the soldiers and gazed into the distance, where the pitch-black night sky and the undulating mountains blended together, indistinguishable. He knew that countless fierce Xiongnu were hidden there, eyeing the small fort with predatory intent.

Perhaps I will really die here! Lu Yao smiled bitterly, subconsciously pressing his right hand against the bones of his left palm until they clicked.

It was strange, but Lu Yao had always felt different since childhood, often having a strong premonition that "a great mission would be bestowed upon him." Because of this bad habit, he had suffered a lot and faced many setbacks, but he always stubbornly believed his thoughts were correct. Now, he had finally reached a dead end, yet this belief had not diminished; it had only grown stronger.

Stop daydreaming! Stop daydreaming! Lu Yao shook his head, driving the strange thoughts from his mind.

Sigh... What have I done in my twenty-odd years of life? Upon reflection, it seemed there was nothing worth mentioning, just aimlessly following the tides of fate, constantly drifting and wandering. Well, what difference would it make if this meaningless life reached its end? Lu Yao sighed and walked down from the wall.

This was an unnamed, ancient fort. Built against a mountain, it used the steep cliff behind it as a natural barrier, making it very rugged. The walls were constructed with fine yellow earth, and considerable effort had been put into them. The fort had been abandoned for a long time, with no residents inside, and thorns and weeds grew everywhere. Most of the buildings had collapsed, and only some crooked walls could still provide some protection from the cold wind.

Lu Yao vigorously rubbed his almost frozen hands and walked around a wall. In a corner sheltered from the wind, a small campfire flickered. A few people, either squatting or sitting, stood up as they saw Lu Yao approach.

Lu Yao hurried forward to help a middle-aged scholar who was about to stand up, then found a slightly cleaner spot and sat down cross-legged. The middle-aged scholar, who usually had a clear and refined appearance, now had half his body wrapped in white bandages, his robe stained with blood, and a long sword with several notches and cuts was stuck in his waist, showing the signs of a bloody battle.

"Commander Lu, I never thought we would end up in such a dire situation!" The middle-aged scholar stared at Lu Yao for a long time, sighing deeply with heartache.

Lu Yao silently warmed his hands by the fire without speaking. The middle-aged scholar was named Yang Yi, with the courtesy name Youze, and held the position of Middle Military Advisor, one of the trusted advisors to the general in charge of the army, General Nie Xuan. The defeat of the army and the current dire situation were partly due to his responsibility. If it were up to Lu Yao, he would have scolded Yang Yi harshly. However, years of ups and downs had made Lu Yao particularly adept at concealing his true thoughts. Under the firelight, his expression was respectful and composed, showing no other emotion.

Not everyone had Lu Yao's self-control.

An officer standing in the wind with his arms crossed spoke coldly, "The court sent tens of thousands of elite troops to eliminate the exhausted Xiongnu forces, and victory should have been certain. Unfortunately, General Nie Xuan, the front commander, was arrogant and rash, advancing hastily. After a few small victories, he sent over a dozen victory reports, unaware that he had already fallen into the Xiongnu's ambush. Why are we in this situation? Has Advisor Yang not thought about the reason?"

His words were harsh and stern, and he took large steps to stand in front of Yang Yi. The firelight illuminated the left side of his face, where an eye should have been, leaving only a bloody hole, which was terrifying.

This man was Wang Wei, a subordinate of the Cavalry Commander Chen Yong. Chen Yong's troops could be said to have indirectly perished due to Nie Xuan's rashness, so he naturally harbored deep hatred for Yang Yi, who was Nie Xuan's advisor.

Confronted by Wang Wei's bloodstained and fierce face, Yang Yi's face turned pale, but he did not back down. "Was General Nie just seeking credit? He knew that Chen Yong was incompetent and incapable of fighting, so he had no choice but to act this way!"

"Bullshit!" Wang Wei cursed.

Yang Yi ignored him and continued, "If Chen Yong had not hesitated in battle, the Xiongnu would have had no chance at all. In my view, Chen Yong, who fears the enemy like a tiger, is the real culprit!"

Wang Wei was furious and punched Yang Yi in the chest, knocking him to the ground. "Rat, do you think I won't dare to kill you?"

Yang Yi fell to the ground, and blood seeped through his bandages. He was much tougher than an ordinary scholar and gritted his teeth to endure the pain, sneering, "Old soldier, you can certainly kill me, but it would just mean an earlier rebirth!" It turned out that Yang Yi believed in the Buddhist teachings from the Western Regions, which preached the "Six Realms of Rebirth": the soul does not perish after death but cycles through the six realms based on one's deeds and cultivation. His implication was that at this point, whether he died early or late made no difference, and once the city fell, the Xiongnu's cruelty would leave no one alive.

Wang Wei was disheartened and turned to sit back down, no longer looking at Yang Yi. The atmosphere, already heavy and tense, became even more oppressive.

"This place is not far from Huguan... Perhaps reinforcements will come to save us tomorrow..." another officer, Chen Yi, tried to boost morale. The others glanced at him but no one responded. Duke Dongyin still had ten thousand elite troops in Huguan, and if he intended to rescue the defeated soldiers, he would have already moved. How could they have ended up in such a desperate situation? Although Chen Yi was trying to encourage everyone, they all sighed in despair, falling into deep pessimism and hopelessness.

"Relying on reinforcements is unrealistic. The main force of the Bingzhou army has been almost entirely wiped out, and the troops left in Shangdang are Duke Dongyin's old guard, his true elite forces. Do you not know what kind of person Duke Dongyin is? There's no need to have any expectations." Lu Yao looked at everyone's expressions and continued, "But to say there is no hope at all is not necessarily true."

"Hmm?" A large, muscular man suddenly sat up by the fire. This was the military commander, Xue Tong.

Xue Tong was much taller than the average person, broad-shouldered and robust, looking like a door god in his armor, which was stained with blood, making him appear quite fearsome.

Three days ago, in the bloody battle of Dalin, the Jin army disintegrated layer by layer, with countless soldiers fleeing in panic. Only a few units, including Lu Yao's, managed to maintain their formation. They avoided the main Xiongnu forces by circling around and quickly eliminated smaller groups they encountered. They also absorbed several other Jin army units led by Xue Tong, Wang Wei, Yang Yi, and others, breaking through several enemy blockades and retreating eastward along the Zuzhang River.

Unfortunately, the Xiongnu army was mainly composed of cavalry, and even though the Jin army moved almost without rest through the mountains, they could not completely shake off the pursuing forces. After several days of fighting, the Jin army retreated to this abandoned fort for defense. The Xiongnu quickly surrounded the fort and launched attacks from all sides. The intense battle lasted a whole day, reducing the number of Jin soldiers inside from over a thousand to less than six hundred, all of whom were injured.

Xue Tong, although a brave general who led from the front, had many thoughts swirling in his mind in this dire situation. Looking at Lu Yao, who sat cross-legged with a calm and composed demeanor, he saw no sign of panic.

"What is your plan, Daoming?" Xue Tong asked loudly.

Lu Yao gazed at the fire and slowly said, "At this point, all we can rely on is courage. There is no clever strategy."

He clenched his teeth and continued, "The Xiongnu won the decisive battle at Dalin and have been pursuing us like driving pigs and sheep, thinking they have no more enemies. This is what we call an arrogant army. The enemy force surrounding us has been pursuing us for over a hundred miles for three days, fighting over sixty battles. This is what we call a weary army. An arrogant and weary army, despite their numbers, may give us a chance! Tonight, we will select a hundred strong soldiers, feed them well, and let them rest. Tomorrow, we will hold the fort for half a day, and when the enemy's morale wanes, I will personally lead a hundred brave warriors to launch a surprise attack on their camp and break through them!"

He looked around at the other officers, "What do you think?"

The officers looked at each other, silent for a moment. Chen Yi coughed and said, "This plan is too risky! Too risky! It's better to hold out and wait for reinforcements."

Before he finished, Xue Tong grabbed Chen Yi's armor and pushed him away. Chen Yi stumbled and fell, wincing in pain but not daring to argue.

Xue Tong stood next to Lu Yao, his eyes shining as he looked at the others, "In the current situation, holding out means certain death. It's better to take a risk. I once heard in military strategy that one man's determination can intimidate a thousand. With a hundred determined warriors, General Lu's plan is good, and I, Old Xue, support it!"

Xue Tong and Lu Yao belonged to different commanders and had no prior relationship, but the experience of fighting side by side over the past few days had made Xue Tong extremely admiring of Lu Yao. Moreover, he was the type who preferred to die with honor rather than live in disgrace, so he was the first to agree with Lu Yao's plan.

Strictly speaking, Lu Yao's proposal was not a brilliant strategy but a desperate last stand. However, in this situation, death was certain, so it was better to take a chance.

Lu Yao and Xue Tong commanded over 70% of the remaining troops. Since they had decided, the opinions of the others were irrelevant. Lu Yao stood up, bowed to the officers, and went with Xue Tong to select the brave warriors for the next day's surprise attack.

The fort was in ruins, and after passing the officers' campfire and walking along a short wall, they reached where the soldiers were resting. The soldiers lay haphazardly, some sleeping, some chatting, and some injured, moaning pitifully.

Xue Tong called over a squad leader and was about to give instructions when he suddenly heard crying in the night wind.

This was a serious taboo in the army, and it made Xue Tong extremely angry. He leaped up and shouted, "Who is the coward crying! I, Xue, will cut you to pieces!" His loud voice was like a thunderclap, making everyone's ears ring.

The crying stopped abruptly, and even the whispers ceased. Xue Tong paced around, feeling the blood in his chest boiling, and suddenly swung his large sword at the air. His martial arts were already strong, and at this moment, his spirit and intent were in harmony, producing a fierce sword wind that cut through the air.

"Good sword! Good swordsmanship!" Lu Yao suddenly said.

Xue Tong sheathed his sword and smiled bitterly, "This sword is a family heirloom. Though not an ancient treasure, it is still a fine blade. The swords and knives made by the current government are far inferior." He only praised the sword and not his own skills, showing humility, and handed the sword to Lu Yao with the scabbard.

Lu Yao took it and examined it closely. The sword was unique, with a blade a foot longer than a typical ring-pommel sword, a handle that could be held with both hands, and a triangular pommel, weighing at least thirty pounds. He drew the sword, and the blade shimmered like water, clearly a rare and excellent weapon. On the spine of the blade, a row of small characters was engraved.

"Seventy-two forges..." Lu Yao read softly, nodding slightly, "A hundred years ago, the master swordsmith Pu Yuan was invited by the first emperor of Shu Han to forge five hundred military swords in Chengdu, which were only bestowed upon meritorious generals. This must be one of them. So, Brother Xue is from the Hedong Xue clan. I apologize for not knowing."

Xue Tong was surprised. He was indeed from the Hedong Xue clan. The Xue clan was originally a powerful family from Pei County, Xuzhou. During the late Han dynasty, some clan members followed Emperor Liu Bei in his southern and northern campaigns and were thus bestowed with Pu Yuan's military swords. After the fall of Shu Han, the court, wary of the Xue clan's potential in Ba-Shu, relocated thousands of Xue clan families to Hedong. From then on, the Xue clan took Hedong as their home, and the locals often referred to them as "Shu Xue."

"Brother Lu, you are well-informed!" Xue Tong praised. "My grandfather fought with Emperor Liu Bei from a young age, rising from a common soldier to a commander, and thus received the imperial military sword."

He took back the long sword from Lu Yao, tapped the scabbard, and felt a surge of valor, "This sword has been with the Xue clan for three generations, through countless battles. In tomorrow's battle, it will drink the enemy's blood again!"

Lu Yao did not share Xue Tong's enthusiasm. He nodded slightly, feeling unexpectedly calm. He strolled along the wall, breathing in the cool night air, and inadvertently heard the distant sound of the wind rustling through the forest and the occasional howl of wolves.

"Something's wrong! Something's wrong!" Lu Yao's face changed. He sensed something else, not from any of his senses but from the instinct honed through countless battles.

He and Xue Tong exchanged a glance, and in a few quick steps, they climbed up the wall.

Xue Tong reached out and grabbed a torch from the wall, throwing it far into the distance.

The burning torch drew a bright arc in the night sky, illuminating hundreds of enemies below.

Taking advantage of the darkness, the Xiongnu had launched another attack. No... This scale was not a raid; the Xiongnu intended to fight a night battle and capture the fort in one go!

"Enemy attack!" Lu Yao shouted loudly.