Jinting Han people

The battle began at 5:45 AM on the 15th day of the 10th month, nearly five hours after Liu Xian led his troops across the river.

It was the dead of night, the darkest hour of the day, a time when most people were fast asleep. But who could have imagined? In the stillness of the world, amidst the hazy, chilly mist, two armies stood facing each other. In the biting wind of early winter, illuminated by the firelight of the granaries, they were ready, awaiting the final verdict to be drawn with swords.

After the thunderous drumbeats sounded, Xianbei Protector-General Qiao Zhiming led his Xianbei cavalry across the Mangkou granary and arrived at a small hill. Qiao Zhiming paused briefly and addressed his men:

"Do you remember the defeat more than ten days ago? Defeat is not terrible! But as a loser, if you live with self-satisfaction without washing away your defeat, that is the real shame! We Xianbei men are not afraid of death. We would rather die than be cowards!"

Suddenly, he drew his knife, cut a bloody gash on the back of his hand, raised his hand high, and proclaimed loudly, "A man should only avenge his humiliation with blood!"

Having said this, Qiao Zhiming took the lead, guiding the first rank of iron-clad knights toward the rebel army. Inspired by this, the Xianbei cavalry also shouted, speaking in a Xianbei language that the Jin people could not understand, encouraging each other as if bidding farewell, and filed out in single file.

At first, their pace was not fast, but as their steps increased, the wind in their ears grew stronger and stronger. The iron armor vibrated with the constant clattering of the horses' hooves, and the crisp sounds of thousands of riders mingled together, as if a river of bells had appeared in the wind, rushing straight toward the rebel warriors.

In the eyes of the rebel knights, the firelight flickered on the armor of these Xianbei people, sometimes like a white light, sometimes like shimmering waves, and sometimes like a dark ghost. Only the long swords and spears in their hands always shone with a terrifying cold light.

When they ignored the glint of light and clearly saw the bloodthirsty expressions on the Xianbei people's faces, the two armies were only a dozen paces apart. In almost two or three breaths, the armored beasts charged into the mudflats, trampling down the reeds along the way as if they had been ground by a stone mortar. The hooves of the cavalry trampled across the cold mudflats, mud and grass flying everywhere, the neighing of horses and shouts echoing each other.

Faced with this scene, the rebel cavalry did not choose to engage in a direct confrontation. They claimed to be in formation, but in reality, they intended to engage in close combat. Therefore, their formation was scattered and disorganized. Seeing the Xianbei charge in, they further dispersed, allowing the Xianbei cavalry to charge in, thus minimizing potential casualties. Before long, the two sides' formations became intertwined, with mounted Xianbei and mounted Guanzhong warriors engaging in skirmishes.

It was at this moment that Liu Xian ordered his soldiers to sound the bugle, urging the soldiers on the left and right flanks to step forward and attack the nearby enemy.

This was truly a full-scale battle, with no one idle. Generals like Guo Mo, Gongsun Gong, Liu Yi, Yang Zhang, and Mao Bao immediately led dozens of cavalrymen, spears in hand, and mounted their horses to fight. Even Liu Xian's close associates, such as Zhuge Yan, Li Sheng, Meng Tao, and Meng He, drew their swords or bows and arrows, each leading more than ten guards, to fight the enemy and repel the rebels.

The last to go into battle was Guo Song. He wore a white military uniform, a light-colored double-bristled armor, carried a three-foot-long iron-ringed sword on his back, and held a long spear. He was about to ride into the fray when he turned back and noticed that Liu Xian had very few guards. He hesitated for a moment. He pulled his horse back and slowly returned to Liu Xian's side, asking, "Marshal, is it alright with so little defense around you?"

Liu Xian patted the hilt of his sword and laughed, "I only regret that as the commander-in-chief, I cannot personally lead the charge to fight the enemy. You all go ahead! I know a little about swordsmanship, so I have no problem protecting myself."

Guo Song had long heard of Liu Xian's many achievements in Guanzhong. Upon hearing Liu Xian's words, he no longer insisted, bowed slightly to Liu Xian, and rode back into battle.

The Xianbei cavalry who were the first to charge into battle were truly formidable. In terms of armor and weaponry, they were on par with the armored cavalry of the Songzi Camp, and in terms of horsemanship, fighting, and fighting to the death, these Xianbei were equally impressive.

Guo Song had barely stepped forward to defend against the enemy when three heavily armored cavalrymen appeared, wading through the water, followed by dozens of light cavalrymen providing cover. The armored riders brandished long spears, striking left and right, while the knights behind them unleashed a relentless barrage of arrows. The leader was clad in bright red, gleaming armor, his neck tightly clutched to his shoulder, and a mask beneath his helmet painted with grotesque patterns. His steed was tall and powerful, its body covered in silver plates, and several brown feathers adorned its hood. The armor was so heavy that almost every step it took left a deep crater in the soft, wet mud.

Such a steel beast charged forward, and almost everyone who saw him would turn their horses aside to give way. Not only was his spear unstoppable, but even if ordinary Western Army knights were hit by this tall horse with its body as hard as iron, they would fall to the ground.

As Guo Song saw him approaching, he couldn't help but say to the cavalrymen accompanying him, "The Northern Army doesn't have many brave warriors; they rely mainly on these Xianbei cavalry. This man is extremely brave and is likely one of the best among them. If we can kill him, the enemy army will be greatly discouraged."

Accompanying him were local militia from Pingyang. Upon hearing this, a young man named Jiang Xiu immediately said, "If that's the case, then what are we waiting for? Let's launch a surprise attack!"

Before Guo Song could stop him, he had already charged forward. Jiang Xiu was wearing a yellow-lacquered double-layered armor, considered one of the better ones in the Western Army, but his mount's armor was slightly inferior, barely covering the rider with cowhide, offering only minimal protection against swords and arrows. He took out his left bow, nocked an arrow, and fired at the leading armored rider. His archery skills were indeed excellent; the arrow pierced the rider's chest, lodging between the iron plate and his skin.

The armored rider was startled, then enraged. He used his left hand to snap the arrow shaft in his chest, cursing in the Xianbei language, "You scoundrel seeking death!" He then spurred his horse towards him. As the two riders closed in, the rider thrust his spear up and down, while Jiang Xiu quickly parried with his own spear. After several exchanges, Jiang Xiu felt a sharp pain in the tiger's mouth of both hands, horrified by the opponent's immense strength. If a few more rounds were to occur, he feared he would lose his grip on the spear.

Jiang Xiu knew he was no match for his opponent. Fortunately, the two horses were about to pass each other, and he planned to take the opportunity to escape. Unexpectedly, his opponent turned to stab and swept, and just as he was about to leave, the spear shaft struck his back like a tidal wave.

Although she was protected by two layers of armor that could withstand sharp blades, the armor couldn't stop a blunt force attack. With a crack, Jiang Xiu felt half of her body go numb, then her limbs went out of control. She swayed a couple of times and then fell heavily onto the muddy ground. Her quiver was overturned, dozens of arrows were scattered all over the ground, and her bow, arrows, and cleaver were nowhere to be found.

He struggled to get up, but he couldn't muster any strength. The Xianbei man turned his spear and thrust it downwards, pinning Jiang Xiu to the ground. Immediately, a rider dismounted, cleanly severed Jiang Xiu's head with a knife, tied his hair to the saddle, and shouted mockingly, "Our Protector Qiao is here! Anyone else who's blind enough to seek death?" This man was none other than Qiao Zhiming. Guo Song was startled. He had been pondering how to subdue his opponent, but seeing Jiang Xiu's head severed in the first exchange, he hesitated. Jiang Xiu's elder brother, Jiang Ba, was also a renowned martial artist in Pingyang. Witnessing his brother's death, he roared and was about to spur his horse forward to fight. Guo Song quickly grabbed him, saying, "You two brothers are evenly matched in martial arts. Now that he's dead, what can you do? If you want revenge, you should use strategy. Let him run around for a while and wear him down."

After saying this, Guo Song ordered his men to disperse and try to shoot arrows at the Xianbei cavalry. If the heavily armored cavalry tried to get close, they would use the agility of their light armor to dodge and deliberately lead them into the mud and reeds to minimize the casualties of the Xianbei cavalry.

Further along the battlefield, the fighting intensified. While the rebel soldiers might give some leeway to the Xianbei cavalry, they would show no mercy to the remaining cavalry.

Following the Xianbei cavalry, several thousand more cavalrymen entered the fray, charging towards the left flank where the rebel army was located. Seeing this, the rebel soldiers, hidden in the reeds, drew their bows and arrows. However, in this chaotic battle, they did not follow orders to fire a unified barrage of arrows. Instead, after discussion among their squad leaders, each soldier took responsibility for a small area. Once someone entered their line of sight, they aimed and fired; once the enemy left, they ceased pursuing them and focused on the next wave of approaching enemies.

This made their arrows impossible to defend against. The Northern soldiers charged left and right, trying to break through a weak point, but the sparse arrows before them were like flies swarming overhead, impossible to shake off. Moreover, the rebel knights shot quickly and accurately; if they weren't careful, a stray arrow would come from the side, striking their cheeks and necks. Many died so hastily that they didn't even see who their opponent was.

Leading the vanguard was Zhang Yansuo, the commander of the Northern Army's vanguard, accompanied by over a hundred heavy cavalry. Though not as formidable as the Xianbei cavalry, their power was still considerable. Braving arrows, they charged into the enemy ranks, their mounts ramming and knocking away anyone who couldn't keep up. This relentless onslaught made it difficult for the rebel army to maintain their footing on the riverbank, further escalating the chaos.

Fortunately, the terrain was narrow, and the Westerners quickly formed small square formations. When they saw the cavalry charging, they didn't kill anyone, but instead focused on shooting or cutting down the enemy's horses. The Northern army already had few cavalry, and now they couldn't launch a full-scale attack. They could only take turns entering and exiting the formation, fighting back and forth.

Zhang Yan was clad in heavy armor and wielded two long spears. More precisely, he held a long spear in his right hand and a short spear in his left; the long spear was for ranged combat, while the short spear was for close-quarters thrusting. He was incredibly strong and agile, his attacks precise and ruthless, the weapons in his hands as obedient as two bamboo chopsticks. In just a few rounds, he had defeated several Western Army light cavalrymen, inflicting considerable casualties.

After Zhang Shi noticed him, he said to Chen Zhen, the military advisor beside him, "We men from Longshang have roamed Hexi. In the past few years, you have quelled rebellions in various prefectures and killed countless Xianbei people! But these Hebei people, relying on the prestige of the Xianbei, think they are something special. It's laughable! Go and put an end to their arrogance!"

Chen Zhen, also a young man, immediately clasped his hands in greeting upon receiving his young master's order, saying, "Please wait patiently for good news, young master!" With that, he drew his bow, spurred his horse, and galloped off. After a careful observation, he discovered that the man had been struck by more than ten arrows, yet he remained mobile. It seemed his leather armor was very thick, impenetrable by ordinary arrows.

So Chen Zhen entered the range of the arrow, drew the arrow, nocked the bow, aimed, and quickly released it.

He used a specially made armor-piercing arrow, making the shot extremely swift. Zhang Shi, watching from the side, could hear the sharp whooshing sound of the arrow. The arrow struck the top of the iron armor, and with a whoosh, it flipped Zhang Yansuo's hat off, revealing the enemy soldier's flushed face.

What a pity! It missed! Zhang Shi felt a pang of regret, after all, his opponent wasn't a stationary wooden stake, but someone who was moving left and right in combat. If Chen Zhen's arrow had been moved just a fraction lower, it would have almost killed Zhang Yansuo.

Unexpectedly, after firing one arrow, Chen Zhen didn't even catch his breath before shooting another. This time, the arrow struck his opponent squarely in the forehead. Like a tree struck by lightning, Zhang Yan looked at Chen Zhen in disbelief before collapsing to the ground.

At this, the surrounding Westerners erupted in thunderous cheers, rushing forward to capture and kill the Northern cavalry. Without their leader, the Northern scouts were utterly demoralized and, without command, began to retreat northwards in different directions. But in this chaotic battle, they became easy prey for the Western army's stray arrows. With arrows flying in front and pursuers behind, dozens were quickly shot dead, blood gushing from their wounds, soon turning the puddles on the mudflats crimson.

On the left flank of the rebel army, Suo Jing, at the age of sixty-five, was still fighting on the front lines. The northerners who entered the fray looked down on him because of his advanced age, but seeing that he was dressed in extraordinary clothes and seemed to be a high-ranking official, they all rushed to attack him.

Suo Jing didn't fight a static battle; instead, he fought a hit-and-run tactic, deliberately disrupting their formation while secretly sending troops to ambush them from the rear. These northerners remained completely unaware, only thinking about taking the tempting bait before them. It must be said that there were indeed a few capable men among them. For example, Bu Xiong, true to his name, was eight feet tall and as strong as a bear. Riding on horseback, he wielded a giant axe; if anyone tried to block him with a long spear, he would cleave the spear shaft in two with a single blow. Those who witnessed this were filled with fear.

After chasing for a while, he saw that Suo Jing's mount had paused, seemingly stuck in a mud pit and unable to get out. He was overjoyed and thought to himself: After chasing for so long, the credit is finally in my hands! He immediately spurred his horse forward, intending to use his axe to take Suo Jing's head.

However, despite saying this, he remained cautious of Suo Jing's counterattack. As the two riders drew near, he quietly had his mount circle around to the rear, focusing intently on the sword and saber in Suo Jing's hand, fearing a sudden attack. Unexpectedly, this played right into Suo Jing's trap. When he reached the old man's side and rear, Suo Jing subtly kicked his horse's belly. His beloved horse, understanding the signal, immediately leaped back and delivered a powerful kick to Bu Xiong's leg.

Unaware of such a technique, Bu Xiong was caught completely off guard, allowing the attack to strike squarely, breaking his mount's left foreleg. The horse neighed in agony, its massive body crashing down like a boulder, pinning Bu Xiong beneath it. Despite his immense strength, Bu Xiong was momentarily dizzy and unable to move.

Seeing this, Suo Lin immediately spurred his horse forward to stomp on the enemy. After the Akhal-Teke horse stomped on the enemy's hooves several times, Bu Xiong's waist and abdomen, along with his armor, collapsed. He convulsed as if in agony and finally stopped breathing.

Looking across the entire battlefield, it was impossible to distinguish formations or battle situations; everywhere was carnage, everywhere was bloodshed. People had largely forgotten the rights and wrongs of the world, only thinking about killing each other with all their might. Even when people fell and died, the fingers gripping their swords remained as firm as iron.

Before the fallen corpses outnumbered the reeds on the mudflats, the bloodshed was suffocating, and the death incited rage. (End of Chapter)