Chapter 270: Reinforcements
Translator: Transn Editor: Transn
Gu Shenwei felt that the battle unfolding not too far away from him was an illusion and had nothing to with himself. The adrenaline rush he had felt before the start of the battle was suddenly gone.
He could not be moved by the battle cries, neighing horses and the incredible amount of arrows whizzing about. After sounding the horn, it was as if he had become a bystander and was not involved in the battle at all. Soon, this feeling of being an onlooker was also replaced with a feeling that he was listening to someone else recounting a battle, and that he was only re-enacting the battle scenes in his mind.
This made him feel a little guilty, as the mounted troops facing the arrows were his soldiers and fighting for him. However, it did grant him the ability to calmly observe the battle from afar. He knew that his military counselor had won them the battle even though the mounted troops had only covered two-thirds of the distance between themselves and the enemy.
The machetemen converted into bowmen and pikemen in the opposition forces were not what he expected, and they seemed to be bolder or driven by some unknown terror after being trained by Dugu Xian. The archers did not panic when facing the fierce mounted assault. Two ranks of archers calmly released the first volley of arrows only when the riders were a hundred steps away from them. After three volleys, they formed up, retreated behind the cover of the pikes and drew their machetes.
Many riders from the Great Snow Mountain were shot down by the arrows raining down from the sky, and some were trampled to death by their own brothers. Those that survived continued to rush towards the enemy, and there were even some who did so while completely unarmed.
Five rows of pikes were formed up and pointed towards them, and they seemed to be rushing towards a giant porcupine that did not offer any opening.
However, the swordsmen from the Great Snow Mountain were a force to be reckoned with. Even as the horses of the first wave of riders impaled themselves on the pikes and threw the riders onto the ground, they got up and started hacking at their enemies with their heavy swords, without discriminating between beast, foe or pike, as they cut anything in their path into two. They had forced an opening into the body of the ‘porcupine’.
The riders behind them could not halt their advance, and simply leapt out of their saddles as they held their round shields in front of them to form a solid wall. They overtook the swordsmen in front of them and viciously smashed their shields into the rows of pikes facing them.
The mounted assault had turned into a mass melee.
“Sigh, I’m going to lose. If this continues on, the Great Snow Mountain will be sure to win.” Fang Wenshi shook his head in defeat. He was not sure whether he was happy or dismayed. The swordsmen were undisciplined and impetuous, but their ferocity exceeded his imagination.
Gu Shenwei did not tell his counselor that he had won. The Dragon King did not intend or planned for his swordsmen to enter into a melee, because they were a valuable resource and were hard to replace.
After the terrible fighting continued on for about 30 minutes, the swordsmen from Luoshen Peak had visibly won their battle on the right flank. They had crushed the mounted soldiers and pikemen on the Golden Roc Fort’s left flank, and the archers who had switched to melee combat with their machetes did not really put up a fight. They gave a few symbolic shouts before they fled.
The swordsmen from the Smallsword Peak were still engaged in a life and death struggle with the enemy on Gu Shenwei’s left flank. It was still difficult to see which side would eventually prevail.
However, in the center of the battlefield, the swordsmen from the Canopy Peak were facing heavy losses, and they did not seem to be able to last for much longer.
The benefit of observing all the chaos from afar was that it allowed Gu Shenwei to have an overview of the entire battlefield, which would have been impossible if he had entered the fray. If he had joined the battle, he would only have been able to observe his surroundings – if his comrades were dying, it would signify that they were losing, and if the enemy had been routed, it would mean that they would be winning. He would not have been able to make any tactical adjustments, and the final victory could only be earned through sheer force and luck.
However, it was useless to continue to observe if the situation demanded him to act.
Gu Shenwei nodded to the Weapon Carrier beside him, and took the long-saber from the latter’s hands. He tilted his head and glanced at the 100 or so remaining swordsmen from the Luoshen Peak who were with him. All of them were ready – they were grasping their sword shafts while staring at the enemy, and their bodies were taut with tension. It was as if they were also engaged in battle. They felt the same way as the Dragon King; they were full of desire to go and join their fellow brothers in battle.
“Dragon King, you cannot…” cautioned Fang Wenshi in shock. Before he could even complete his sentence, Gu Shenwei had already spurred his horse forward. The remaining swordsmen shouted in unison, and rode behind the Dragon King. Their charge was like a gale blowing across the battlefield.
Fang Wenshi could not stop shaking his head in disapproval. He circled around on his horse before returning to his original spot. He was a counselor, and his worth to the Great Snow Mountain was his tactical acumen. He could only think properly if he was a safe distance from the fighting; if he was close the bloodshed, he would have been scared stiff even before anyone attacked him. He would have been useless then.
“Sigh, impetuous, too impetuous,” muttered Fang Wenshi. He could not help but think: Why did no true king wish to secure my services? The King of Shu-lik had witnessed his talent first hand, but had not shown any signs of admiration. “I was born in the wrong time,” he continued grudgingly. When he finally raised his head to observe the battle again, he could see a plume of dust coming from a spot far away from the ensuing melee.
He could sense that something was amiss, and carefully stood up while balancing on his stirrups. He shielded his eyes with his right hand, which was holding on to his whip.
As the dust settled, he could see no less than 3000 riders charging towards the battlefield.
Fang Wenshi was shocked speechless. He had only received word from his scouts that the enemy forces would amount to at most 5000 men, and he had no idea where these riders had come from. He immediately realised that the Great Snow Mountain had been set up, and he did not know what method Dugu Xian had used to hide such a large force from his scouts and spies.
The Great Snow Mountain had committed all its forces into the battle. They would definitely not be able to withstand the onslaught of the Golden Roc Fort’s reinforcements.
He instinctively rode forward by about 10 steps before reining in his horse. He then turned his horse around as he knew that it was useless for him to try to warn the others. He would just be courting his own death, and it would be better to ‘conserve his energy’.
The counselor rode his horse westwards while his heart was beating rapidly. He felt frightened as he despaired at his poor luck. His ability had just been recognized, but now his master was going to die in a reckless assault.
Meanwhile, Gu Shenwei and all of the swordsmen from the Great Snow Mountain had no way of knowing that their end was near. All they could see around them were the enemies, weapons and blood. The dust was also affecting their vision. As most of them were feeling the rush of battle, they could not even differentiate between friend or foe, not to mention being able to notice the sudden appearance of reinforcements.
Gu Shenwei chose not to reinforce his left flank or to help the swordsmen from the Canopy Peak who were losing their battle in the middle of the battlefield. He was clear that, with only 100 or so men with him, he could not act on all three fronts at the same time. Therefore, he threw himself into the right flank, which was already about to be won by the swordsmen from the Luoshen Peak. His strategy was to quickly route the enemy on his right and then quickly sweep to his left flank in one go.
He realised that it would not be as simple as he thought once he entered the battle. The swordsmen had already broken ranks when charging into the pikes, and now they were in a state of disarray as they were fighting as individuals instead of fighting in any type of formation. The men from the Luoshen Peak who had come with him were soon caught up in the battle and spread themselves out across the battlefield; only about eight of them remained close behind him.
In such a situation, the Death Scripture swordcraft and the Golden Roc Fort machete skills were rendered useless because there were simply too many bodies surrounding him. It did not matter whose kung fu was better, but rather it was about who had the most energy and the best weapon.
Gu Shenwei held his long-saber with both hands and an enemy’s head would fall down every time it sliced down. He ordered any swordsman from the Great Snow Mountain he met along the way to follow him. In this manner, he gathered a few hundred men very quickly. They were an unstoppable force of ferocity, and after both flanks were secured, they rushed to assist their brothers in the middle of the battlefield.
Victory was close at hand. More and more swordsmen were signalling to each other as they gathered on the right flank and followed the Dragon King, as well as engaging the enemy in the middle of the battlefield. Thus, the tables were turned for the swordsmen of the Canopy Peak who were originally losing.
The combatants were suddenly shaken to their senses by the foreign and incomprehensible sound of thundering hooves charging towards them. They could feel the ground tremor beneath them. Both sides stopped fighting and turned simultaneously to look eastwards at the new entrants to the battlefield.
Gu Shenwei was enjoying his adrenaline rush and only realised something was not right after killing three more enemies.
The riders were equipped with sharp pikes and wore black leather armor. To witness their charge was akin to observing an avalanche of black snow coming your way, and the dust that stirred in their wake had effectively blocked out the sun. The only thing that could be clearly seen were the numerous odd sized flags which bore the insignia of the Golden Roc Fort.
The Great Snow Mountain would not be in a dire situation now if the swordsmen had maintained formation, and if they had pikes to counter the charge. It would also help if the Dragon King could call on reinforcements of his own as well.
However, they did not have any of that. They could only rely on their fighting spirit and ferocity.
Gu Shenwei drew a second long-saber from the Weapon Carrier who had remained by his side. Wielding a long-saber in each hand, he lifted both his arms just like how a giant red-crowned roc would spread its wings. He bent slightly forward and let loose a wolf-like howl from his diaphragm.
Gu Shenwei had it all planned out, and he knew he could not correct the mistakes in his strategy once the battle had begun. His father, Gu Lun, was not a general who had led troops in battles, but had witnessed and took part in his fair share of war. Even if he did not study the art of war, he had derived a theory from his experiences and conversations with others: in most situations, there were far more soldiers who were killed while fleeing than the number of soldiers who were killed while fighting.
This was the same as the golden rule applicable to killers: It is always easier and safer to strike from the back of the target than from the front of your target.
Gu Shenwei only knew a bit about the art of war, but he decided to stick to his principle of never turning his back to the enemy.
Therefore, it would be impossible for him to sound the retreat.
The swordsmen would also never accept such an order, even if it came from the god-like Dragon King. No one could coerce them to flee from their enemies.
They were already exhausted, as one would expend more energy while fighting on the battlefield than compared with carrying out an assassination. However, the Dragon King’s howl triggered their instinct for survival and gave them renewed strength. Their shouts, which made them sound like wild beasts, spread across both flanks from the middle of the battlefield, and dwarfed even the sounds of the hoove beats from the riders.
The men from the Golden Roc Fort who were already engaged in battle entered into a state of panic. They were frightened by the shouts and the charge of the reinforcements. The riders were formed into tight ranks and seemed to be pointing their pikes at them. It did not look as if they would care as to whether they committed fratricide or not.
They fled either by jumping into the Peacock River, or by forcing themselves up the cliff using the weeds which grew on its wall. Those that did not flee prostrated themselves on the ground, hugging their heads and praying to whichever deity they believed in for divine intervention.
Gu Shenwei seemed like an indestructible, walking windmill as he wielded both sabers. He hacked at everything in his way, and something fell with each strike of his blades, be it pikes, horses or men. He could no longer see what he hit, but he knew that he was surrounded on three sides by enemies, so he continued to slash.
He felt as if he was bashing his way through a thick growth of thorns which grew back again whenever he looked back, which made his efforts seem futile.
He had a fleeting moment whereby he thought his end was near, but quickly threw it aside as he continued to slash. Everyone’s fate was determined, and no one’s death could stop the Earth from spinning.
The Weapon Carrier remained by his side, and his scabbards were now empty. He was holding on to the dirty and ragged looking Black Blood Flag, the head which was stuck on it had long shrivelled up. The skull was observing the carnage on the battlefield with its empty eye sockets.
Gu Shenwei passed one of the long-sabers to the Weapon Carrier so that he could defend himself. He wielded the remaining saber in both hands again and continued to hack at the riders.
“Kill-” Sharp battle cries rang out. They did not come from either the Dragon King or the swordsmen from the Great Snow Mountain, and it caused even more chaos then the sudden emergence of the riders.
The cries came from behind the swordsmen.
