Han Ji

Yuan Xi and Yuan Shang were not in the charging force. They led about two thousand remaining troops to guard Tadun's rear, waiting for Tadun to break through the Han army's lines before following up and attacking.

The Wuhuan cavalry charged down the hillside with incredible speed. The horses, knowing their masters were about to fight, pressed their ears flat against the ground, their muzzles gripping the bridles and foaming at the mouth. From the mountainside to the open ground of the North Gully was less than three li, and the cavalry arrived in less than half a cup of tea's time.

Jia Xu stood on a small earthen mound at the rear of the formation, watching through a lookout tube. He put down the tube and said, "We're almost there. Front ranks, hold your ground, don't panic."

The spearmen behind the shields gripped their spear shafts tightly. The shafts, carved from mulberry wood, were rough to begin with, but were polished to a shine by the sweat of their hands. Some had their palms drenched in sweat, and wiped them on their trousers. Zhang Fei paced back and forth in front of the left-wing infantry, his boots leaving deep dents in the ground as he shouted, "Spears! Let the horses charge! Don't cut the men! Cut the horses' legs!" His voice echoed through the ranks.

The Wuhuan cavalry charged into crossbow range. The crossbows in Liu Bei's formation fired first. A volley of bolts was fired; the bolts were heavier than bows, their shafts whistling as they were released, their trajectories straight.

The leading rank of Wuhuan cavalrymen were thrown about, their horses and riders stumbling and falling. When the horses were hit by arrows and fell, their front hooves hit the ground, throwing the riders several meters away. The riders rolled on the ground for only a couple of turns before being trampled by the horses behind them with a dull thud.

The second volley of crossbow bolts followed, and another group fell. But there were too many Wuhuan cavalrymen. The fallen horses and men were immediately trampled by the following herd. The horses behind slipped on the carcasses of the horses in front, regained their footing, and continued charging.

Closer still. The archers began to release their arrows. The arrows were projectiles, flying into the air in arcs, densely packed in mid-air like locusts, before falling like rain.

Arrows pierced the bodies of the Wuhuan cavalrymen. Some men were hit in the face, the arrow shaft still trembling with fletching stuck in their cheeks. They pulled the arrow out, pulling out a piece of flesh, and continued charging forward.

The vanguard of the Wuhuan cavalry rammed into the shield wall. The horses' breastbones struck the shields, the shield bearers were thrown backward, their feet plowing furrows in the earth, and the edges of the shields slammed against the shoulders of those behind them with dull thuds. But the shield wall did not collapse, and the spearmen thrust their spears out from the gaps in the shields.

The spearhead pierced the horse's chest, and the horse reared up with a neigh, its front hooves pawing the air a few times before crashing to the ground. More horses charged forward, breaking several spear shafts in the process, the broken ends jagged. The soldiers with the broken spears picked up the spearheads from the ground and continued to stab.

Someone was trampled by a horse's hoof by the shield wall, and the soldiers behind quickly filled his position. Someone was slashed in the shoulder by a scimitar, and the blade got stuck in the bone. The person wielding the blade grabbed the back of the other's blade to prevent him from pulling it out. Both of them were pulling and tugging at each other, each fighting for a few more seconds to live.

On Zhang Fei's side, the Wuhuan cavalry charged from the left. Zhang Fei thrust his ring-pommel sword into the ground, grabbed a long spear with both hands, bent over, and swung the spearhead horizontally at the horse's leg. The spear shaft struck the galloping horse's foreleg, causing it to stumble and fall forward, the rider tumbling off and landing face-first in the mud.

Zhang Fei stepped onto the rider's back, pulled out his ring-pommel sword from the ground, slashed down, and then shouted, "Cut off the horse's legs! Cut!"

The foot soldiers on the left wing imitated him, crouching down to chop at the horses' legs. Some missed, striking the horseshoes and sending sparks flying; others were kicked in the chest by the horses' hind hooves, spitting blood as they flew away.

However, many of the horses that charged forward had their front legs cut off, and the horses fell to the ground struggling to get up. The riders also rolled off their horses and were surrounded and stabbed to death by the infantry.

Zhao Yun was on the right flank. Instead of engaging the enemy head-on, he led his elite cavalry through gaps in the flank, flanking the Wuhuan cavalry from the rear. Then, he spurred his horse and charged straight in. His target was the waist of the Wuhuan cavalry formation.

The midsection of the formation was the most vulnerable, easily broken by a single thrust from the charging cavalry. Zhao Yun took the lead, his chestnut horse moving swiftly like a red shadow, his blade flashing as he slashed across the neck of a mounted archer.

The quiver slipped from the horse archer's body and rolled to the ground, scattering arrows everywhere. His cavalry charged in after him, horses colliding and swords slashing, tearing a gap in the Wuhuan cavalry's formation at the waist, cutting the charging front and the following rear in two, and immediately slowing their momentum.

The Wuhuan cavalry in the center of the army were still ramming the shield wall. When the third wave charged, a gap was finally broken in the shield wall. The gap was not wide, just enough for three horses to charge in side by side.

The Wuhuan cavalry squeezed into the formation through the gap, their scimitars sparking against their shields, their horses pressed belly-to-head against the men. Swordsmen and shieldmen stepped forward to block the breach.

Swords clashed, short swords met long swords, and a swordsman with a shield lost three fingers to a scimitar. He used the metacarpal bones of his severed fingers to support his shield and continue to withstand the blows.

Another swordsman and shieldman circled around the gap to the back of the horse and stabbed the rider in the lower back. The rider hunched over and fell onto the horse's neck. The sword slipped from his hand, and the horse, carrying the dead man, ran wildly through the formation.

Tadun was in the middle. He saw the gap and led his personal guards toward it. Iron-blue horse charged at the front, slashing left and right with its curved blade, cutting down two shield soldiers.

A swordsman rushed forward and grabbed the man's horse's leg. Tadun swung his scimitar downwards, the blade slicing into the man's nape, blood splattering onto the iron-blue horse's leg.

Liu Bei had a clear view from the center of the army. He turned to Zhang Wu and said, "Personnel troops, follow me and press forward." Zhang Wu responded and drew his long sword. The personnel in the Personal Guard were all veterans, with the newest armor, the best swords, and the most skilled men. Three hundred men followed Liu Bei, moving towards the breach.

Jia Xu called out from behind, "My lord, you can't move too many of your men. Hold the line at the breach."

Liu Bei did not turn back. He rode his jade-white horse towards the gap, with his personal guards following closely behind. Three hundred swords were drawn at the same time, the sound of the blades whistling through the air creating a cacophony.

As Liu Bei charged to the breach, the fourth wave of Wuhuan cavalry crashed into him. The ground at the breach was covered in blood and mud, sticky underfoot. Several shields were shattered, fragments embedded in the mud. More than a dozen spear shafts were broken, the cuts stark white. The battle line retreated a dozen paces, forming a dent.

Tadun stood thirty paces outside the gap. He reined in his iron-blue horse, which circled in place, its hooves leaving a crater in the ground. He was looking for another chance to charge. His personal guards stood in a wedge formation behind him, their scimitars raised to their chests, tips pointing forward.

Liu Bei drew his sword. The double-edged sword scraped against the scabbard opening as it was drawn, producing a sharp metallic scraping sound. He held one sword upside down in his left hand and the other in his right, the blades crossed in front of his chest.

"Patch the gap. Shields up. Spearmen cover."

The personal guards surged forward. Zhang Wu led his men to kick aside the broken shields, and new shields were erected. Spearmen filled in from behind, their spear tips protruding from the gaps in the new shields, some still with bandages torn from the dead wrapped around their hands. The battle line was stabilized again.

Jia Xu came down from the earthen mound at the rear of the formation. He found Zhao Yun in the midst of the battle. Zhao Yun had just led his elite cavalry back from the flank, his horse covered in bloodstains, it was hard to tell whether they were from the enemy or the horse's own sweat. Jia Xu called out to him.

"Zilong. Tadun is at the front of the breach. He's looking for a breakthrough. You lead your elite cavalry to circle around to his rear." Jia Xu pointed towards White Wolf Mountain. "Tadun relies on the impact of his cavalry. We'll trap him. Hold him off from the front, and you stab him in the back. As soon as the Wuhuan soldiers see Tadun surrounded, their formation will crumble."

Zhao Yun wiped his face, removing a piece of the scab. "Understood."

He turned his horse around and galloped back towards his elite cavalry, shouting the rallying order as he ran. The cavalry returned from the various battlefields; some men with dulled blades picked up Wuhuan scimitars from the ground and put them on. Some men and horses were wounded and were replaced with captured Wuhuan horses. These horses were known for their fierce temper and tendency to bite; one soldier who was changing horses was bitten on the back of his hand, cursed, and mounted his horse.

Zhao Yun gathered his men, glanced at them, and saw that only slightly more than two thousand of the three thousand elite cavalry remained, more than seven hundred short, all casualties from the earlier flank charge. He didn't say much, but slammed his sword on the saddle. "Let's go."