Volume One: The Hidden Dragon Beneath the Abyss Chapter 118: The Battle Ignites

The Western Front of the Xia Kingdom suffered continuous defeats.

With a hundred thousand iron cavalry trampling through, the Jin lord’s campaign finally began. In just three days, six provinces fell, sending shockwaves throughout the realm.

Especially Shizhou and Zhaozhou—both swiftly breached and captured by the Xia forces, who also seized control of the granaries, plunging the region into chaos.

Rumor had it that Xia soldiers were everywhere, and many bandits had risen up, leaving no one able to escape from any direction.

Near Lùn City, there was no festive light to be seen.

Within the imperial city, a heavy silence prevailed, as if utterly detached from the turmoil beyond its walls.

To the west of the Xia Kingdom,

Along the winding mountain roads, only a few torches flickered, faintly illuminating the path like fireflies—only their light did not waver.

As the distance lessened, the sounds of voices, footsteps, and horse-drawn carriages emerged, only to be suppressed in unison.

Here, countless people—multitudes—crowded together along this rarely traveled, serpentine mountain path, stretching endlessly into the darkness ahead.

Among them was Yang Hao, carrying a backpack, his hair disheveled and unkempt.

Wang Chuan had earlier instructed him to return from the east, but upon hearing the city had fallen, it seemed something dawned on him, and he resolved to head west instead—thus witnessing the Jin army firsthand.

Fortunately, he had escaped without serious injury, unharmed. Now, apart from what seemed like endless walking, he was unsure what else he could do.

To the west of the Xia Kingdom, the entire region was swarming with refugees—those who had fled since the city’s fall, many originally driven away by the Jin forces.

Order had long since collapsed; everywhere, there was slaughter and bloodshed. Luckily, Yang Hao’s martial skills allowed him to survive—otherwise, he might have met an untimely demise.

Dark clouds gradually covered the night sky once more. The darkness was profound, utterly devoid of hope or life.

A cold breeze swept in, and he shivered slightly—perhaps the weariness and constant toil had given him a slight chill.

He must cross the border and return as soon as possible.

Suddenly, a pang of homesickness seized him, stronger than ever before.

Having endured repeated failures, he once felt the heavens had been utterly unjust, and that he alone must fight to claim what was rightfully his.

...

In recent days, news from the Xia Kingdom came thick and fast, all grim tidings.

The Jin army advanced on three fronts, their momentum unstoppable as they surged forward!

Finally, Lùn City was besieged, and several relief forces were halted en route.

The old matriarch had seemingly stepped out of her home every day recently, standing in the street gazing at something.

When Xu Wei mentioned this, Wang Chuan nodded and went out to persuade her. “Aunt, Yang Hao will return soon.”

The old matriarch nodded. “I know. Then I shall wait a little longer.”

“Waiting at home is the same,” Wang Chuan said. “It’s too hot outside.”

His words were true, but even so, it would only mean meeting him a few minutes earlier.

“I understand,” the old matriarch nodded, still waiting.

At that moment, Wang Chuan suddenly felt she resembled someone—indeed, she was very much like her.

“He seems to have returned from the west,” Wang Chuan sighed sincerely.

“Hm, for the prince’s sake, he would go see the west,” the old matriarch nodded.

Just then, Xu Wei brought out a chair and smiled habitually.

The old matriarch allowed herself to be helped down without resistance.

“Aunt, you know your son well,” Wang Chuan said.

“No, never. I’m deeply ashamed,” the old matriarch replied.

“He’s always been sensible since childhood. Back then, to support them, I worked at an inn. One night, he thought I hadn’t come home and feared I might be in trouble—so he went out looking for me...”

“Yang Hao’s words ring true—he truly is such a person,” Wang Chuan said. “Perhaps being with me has been too much of a hardship for him all along. Maybe it was a mistake.”

Had he not chosen to follow Wang Chuan, he would still be that low-profile merchant conducting business quietly.

In the chaos of these troubled times, he could have made great achievements and would surely have met a benefactor in time.

Yet Wang Chuan knew well it was difficult to imagine the thoughts of those under his command.

“Following the prince, he will not regret it,” the old matriarch said. “The path he chose is one he wishes to walk forever.”

He had his own dreams.

“Very well,” Wang Chuan nodded. “I’ll wait a while longer. If he hasn’t returned by then, I’ll go look for him myself—and bring him back.”

The new army’s equipment was starkly different from the rest of the Jin forces.

They wore helmets neatly, their armor resembling fish scales, with two thick breastplates aligned at the chest. In their hands, they held long spears, and at their waists hung seven-foot-long double-edged blades.

These heavy swords were the most devastating weapons; once formed into a battle formation, they were nearly invincible.

Back in the day, the Tang army truly perfected the blade formation,

Cutting through with polearms like a wall advancing forward, shattering all who stood before them, unstoppable.

“Train soldiers for a thousand days, use them for a single moment!” The Jin lord gazed upon the great city renowned across the land, raising his sword. “Charge with me! Unite the realm!”

...

Truly a delightfully dramatic slogan.

That man could even personally lead his troops, appearing on the front lines.