Volume One: The Hidden Dragon in the Abyss Chapter 78: Toward the North

The infantry, already shattered in the clash, were being herded by the Jin army like pigs, driven relentlessly in this direction, drawing ever closer.

Jin troops moved in coordinated, fluid formations, splitting and merging with seamless precision. Not only from before, but now from all directions, small detachments appeared, forming an encirclement that closed in on the Wei army, devouring them inch by inch.

"Attack! Quickly! Do not let them reinforce, do not let them regroup!"

The order was relayed swiftly by the messengers, racing between the units.

Jin troops pressed in like augers from every side, as if their next strike might bore through, turning the wooden barrel of the Wei formation into a sieve riddled with holes. Or perhaps it would be nothing but a futile scratching, having no effect at all.

Yet the high morale and tight formations revealed the mettle and valor of a battle-hardened force.

The Wei general reined in his horse, retreating with only two thousand cavalry.

The Wei infantry, scattered and disheartened, had cast aside their armor and helms, uncertain how many leagues they had fled. The Jin army pressed from all sides, herding them forward.

"Halt! Are you not men? Why do you not carry your hooks?" the general shouted. "The enemy stands before you, your home and country behind—why do you flee in disgrace?"

His tone was righteous and commanding, and the troops, shamed, unconsciously slowed their steps.

"General, it was you who abandoned us first," a young officer dared to reply.

"And that is your reason for casting aside home and country?" the general demanded. "If I have wronged you, does that mean you will forsake the people of Wei?"

The Jin army drove the fleeing Wei soldiers onward; most knew not where to run, and those who had not escaped were forced toward the cavalry. Caught by the pursuing enemy, they would fall where they stood.

"I will bear no grudge for the past. The situation is dire—follow me and strike down the enemy! Wash away our shame! To flee is death, to fight and die is also death—let a true man wrap himself in his horse’s hide and defend his homeland!"

With these words, the general spurred his horse forward, leading the charge. His spear whirled like lightning, striking down opponents left and right. His guards followed close, then the rest of the cavalry.

The infantry, gritting their teeth, picked up discarded weapons, following as a bloody path was carved straight toward the Jin lines.

"The soldiers of Wei—renowned throughout the land for their elite prowess!"

From afar, Duan Changfeng watched. He ordered the signal flags to command a change of formation, then spurred forward himself.

The Wei general pushed his guards aside and charged into the fray, wielding his great blade with unmatched bravery. At last, this much-maligned commander revealed his willingness to lead from the front.

The two clashed swiftly.

Duan Changfeng leveled his spear to block the blade, lifting it with all his strength. But the Wei general’s mount suddenly lunged forward, and using the momentum, the general forced the spear downward.

The Jin horses were ordinary stock from the central plains, nothing remarkable. The Luocheng army, however, rode the finest steeds, purchased at great expense from the borderlands—long-legged, robust, with astonishing endurance.

After this exchange, Duan Changfeng realized the challenge before him. The battle-hardened Luocheng soldiers, renowned as the finest in the realm, lived up to their reputation.

"General Duan has arrived—full assault! Join with General Duan!" Yang Hao and his men, atop the high ridge, saw that the time was right. He waved the flag: all units, attack.

The Jin army surged down the slope, fierce and unstoppable.

Yang Hao pressed his heels to his horse’s flanks, and his mount shot forward like lightning, charging the enemy.

As the Wei infantry and cavalry sought to coordinate, Yang Hao found a narrow gap in their lines and slipped through. Before him fluttered the Luocheng army’s banner, still straight and proud despite the wind and rain.

A ring of elite horsemen surrounded the standard. As Yang Hao approached, six or seven spears thrust out at once, killing his horse instantly.

Using the momentum, Yang Hao leapt free, parrying the assaults with his spear. Like a fish darting through water, he slid between two Wei soldiers, sprang upward, and reached for the great banner with clawed fingers.

Channeling all his inner strength, he grasped the pole in a rush of wind and snapped it clean in two.

The Dragon Seizing Claw—never missing its mark.

Yang Hao had just delivered his most dazzling blow.

The banner’s breaking was a stinging humiliation for the Wei soldiers, struck down before their very eyes. The standard-bearers, eyes red with fury, hurled themselves at Yang Hao.

"Where is Wang Chuan? He is not here?" The Wei general glanced at Duan Changfeng and laughed. "Of course—the battlefield is perilous. How could His Highness, the crown prince, place himself in such danger?"

"If His Highness were here, we would not be losing so disastrously," Duan Changfeng replied, shaking his head with deep respect for Wang Chuan.

"What other tricks do you have? Today, these tens of thousands have nowhere to run," the Wei general sneered.

"You are right, General. There is no way out," Duan Changfeng answered calmly.

At that moment, Yang Hao and several officers broke through the enemy lines to join him, but the breach was quickly sealed, and both sides were locked in fierce combat. At this point, not even Duan Changfeng’s tactical genius could turn the tide.

It was futile.

Suddenly, he looked east as a horn sounded. The woods trembled.

"General, the Chuzhou army has arrived!" a scout reported to the Wei commander.

The Chuzhou army! They, too, had followed the rain to the field, spreading out like willow down on the wind.

The Chuzhou Prefect commanded a full advance—an overwhelming force of infantry and cavalry.

The arrival of these reinforcements shook the Wei army’s morale.

Now, the general felt that nothing in the past mattered—all that remained was to seize final victory.

"Soldiers of Jin! By order of His Highness, withdraw!" Duan Changfeng bellowed, issuing his final command. The signal flags waved ceaselessly, messengers rode to and fro. These were messages only their own could understand.

The Chuzhou army entered the field at last, driving the Jin troops back with every step.

Yet the Wei general sensed something amiss. A white mist rose before his eyes.

What was this...

A terrible premonition gripped him.

Witchcraft!

Thick fog roiled, swallowing all life and objects within its reach. It was not smoke—there was no choking odor.

The fog thickened, visibility dropping to nothing, the sounds of battle fading away. Beyond a few paces, man and beast were indistinguishable—friend or foe, who could tell?

All one could pray for was to emerge unharmed.

Still, the crowd surged desperately outward, frantic to escape this uncanny, terrifying place. Most Wei soldiers, howling, trampled the corpses and wounded of their own side in their drive to survive.

But there was no escape.

"The Jin army is fleeing!" the Wei general quickly realized.

In the chaos, amid the clamor, the sound of hooves was lost in the din. Their true movements were shrouded.

But the fog masked them as well—what could be done?

In a flash, the general understood: if the Jin had known in advance, if this fog was indeed their doing to facilitate escape...

Duan Changfeng’s final command left no doubt.

Wang Chuan did not appear, but his absence was all the more chilling—the means at work here were uncanny and unfathomable.

Clearly, the Jin had planned this, and the most prudent course was to escape in a set direction and regroup.

Now, more than ever, they must not descend into chaos.

Sensing the enemy’s intent, the general dispatched his bodyguards in every direction to scout out the Jin’s movements.

He personally captured a Jin soldier, interrogating him under torture to extract their plan.

The answer came swiftly—Duan Changfeng’s order was for everyone to retreat north.

North—always north.

But it was as expected.

To the west or south meant a long detour; to the east, though the Chuzhou army had arrived, the Chuzhou Prefect had said there was a second line of defense. Though they might not hold, the Jin would not easily break through.

So, would they circle north to return to Jin territory? But their provisions were nearly exhausted...

...

Northwest, at the border.

A Jin force gazed across at the vast rivers and mountains of Wei—so resplendent.

A terrible premonition gripped the general.

Witchcraft!

Dense fog surged, swallowing all life and objects within. It was no common smoke; there was no stinging in the nose.

The mist grew heavier, visibility dropping to a minimum, the sounds of battle fading into silence. Beyond a few paces, there was no telling man from beast, friend from foe.

All one could hope was to pass through unscathed.

Yet the crowd surged on, desperate to escape the uncanny miasma. Most Wei soldiers, shrieking, climbed over corpses and groaning wounded in their mad flight.

But escape was impossible.

"The Jin army is fleeing!" the general realized quickly.

In the chaos, the clamor masked the hoofbeats. Their movements were concealed.

But the fog would hide them all—what could be done?

The general saw the truth: if the Jin had planned this, if the mist was their creation for escape...

Duan Changfeng’s final order confirmed it.

Wang Chuan, though unseen, was more dangerous than any presence—the methods at play here were mysterious beyond reckoning.

Clearly, the Jin had made their plans, the only course to flee in a set direction and regroup.

Now was not the time for panic.

Understanding the enemy’s thinking, the general sent his guards in all directions to search for the Jin.

He himself seized a Jin soldier, interrogating him ruthlessly for their plans.

The answer came quickly—Duan Changfeng’s command: everyone retreat north.

North—again, north.

But this, too, was within expectation.

West or south meant a longer road; to the east, though Chuzhou’s army had arrived, the Chuzhou Prefect had stated there was a second line of defense. Though weaker, the Jin would not find passage easy.

So, were they trying to return to Jin by a northern route? But weren’t their supplies nearly depleted...

...

Northwest, at the border.

A Jin force gazed across, at the splendid land of Wei.