Chapter 623: Two Battles, Stockade Broken

At the shen hour, a quarter past, the sun hung low in the west, still illuminating the forests and the land, but the most brutal stretch of the day had already passed. Before Yellow Ox Stockade, the clamor of battle, though not exactly fierce, had persisted for over half a shichen.

The Shu stockade stood on the perilous terrain blocking the road; the space before it was not particularly open, enough only for one battalion of soldiers to deploy, but for the probing attack of the Han army, it sufficed.

Wang Renshan observed the battle from the mountaintop, while Li Yan directed the troops at the front line. Beneath the stockade wall, a fresh batch of soldiers took over, shouldering large shields and wielding war blades, surging forward under the blows of the defending Shu troops to relieve the two hundred assault soldiers who had been beaten back.

Soon, as the Han soldiers drew near, a small-scale but sufficiently bloody clash of attack and defense unfolded once more. For the Han army, amid these mountain ridges, heavy siege engines like cloud ladders and siege towers were too cumbersome—inconvenient to transport and unfavorable to deploy—so they were directly abandoned.

Fortunately, the Han army had an abundance of crossbows and bows, and they spared no expense in arrows; under this cover, they could minimize the blows from atop the stockade during their approach. Still, in the end, it was an uphill assault—the lives to be lost and the price to be paid could not be reduced by even a fraction.

Before the stockade, five heavy bolt throwers were set up, each with twin bows mounted; twenty well-trained soldiers operated one thrower, cranking the winch to draw the strings. The bolts, like javelins, driven by terrifying force, slammed hard into Yellow Ox Stockade—this was the greatest deterrent to the Shu army. Though it was hard to inflict heavy direct casualties, its destruction of the stockade defenses and its blow to morale were even greater.

One long bolt, as if carrying the weight of a thousand jun, struck directly into the stockade wall, piercing through two Shu soldiers in succession. The iron fletching shredded their bodies into pulp—a ghastly sight that struck terror into all who witnessed it.

And atop the stockade wall, the space was equally cramped, allowing even fewer soldiers to deploy. Amid the terror gripping the troops and the chaos that followed, some reckless Han soldiers were already scrambling up.

Han Jixun could be counted as a responsible commander, and he had courage too—he personally directed the defense from atop the stockade wall, shouting orders at the top of his lungs and arranging the killing of the climbers, all while over three hundred Han archers below the wall delivered relentless, rotating volleys.

"Governor, the Han army's arrows are too dense, especially those bolt throwers—if they aren't destroyed, they'll wreck morale!" The junior officer defending the stockade, holding a shield before him, said to Han Jixun.

Han Jixun's expression was grim, his face flushed with anger as he roared: "They have bows and crossbows—do we not? Have our archers return fire! Don't hoard arrows! We hold the high ground—how can we let them suppress us? As for those bolt throwers, they're few in number and limited in killing power—no need to worry.

Pass the order to the men atop the stockade: keep your eyes on the climbing Han soldiers and kill them. They want to come die—oblige them. Anyone who dares to flinch from battle will be executed. The troops behind the stockade, in squads of two hundred, are to stand ready at all times to take over and join the fight!"

Under Han Jixun's arrangements and organization, the Shu army's response to the Han assault was orderly and methodical. Though it was a probing attack, once real combat was joined, no strength was held back.

One wave of assault, even clad in armor and wielding sharp weapons with large shields for protection, still cost nearly fifty soldiers in casualties before some men finally climbed the stockade head along bamboo ladders. Yet reaching the top of the wall was the hardest moment—support from below diminished while the attacks they faced multiplied...

Before the stockade, Li Yan, in command, wore a cold expression as he drew his bow and took aim. The string snapped, the arrow flew, and the sharp shaft pierced the air upward, finally burying itself in a Shu soldier's body. He had considerable strength and could draw a stiff bow. But one man's power alone could hardly break the stalemate of battle.

Around him, the dense volleys of the Han army's bows and crossbows ceased—partly out of concern for the comrades who had scaled the wall, and partly because their strength was spent; only those with remaining vigor and good aim continued targeted shots. The bolt throwers kept working, bolt after bolt, hammering the Shu stockade.

Watching the soldiers who had scaled the wall being devoured one after another by the Shu army, Li Yan's resolve hardened. He drew the saber at his waist and said coldly: "Bring up the last batch of brothers! Follow me up the stockade to support them!"

At this point, the prepared thousand assault soldiers had all been cycled through once. Li Yan shouldered a shield and gripped his saber, charging at the forefront, going straight to the base of the stockade to direct the assault, advancing along the path to the wall that his comrades had paved with their lives.

On the periphery, seeing Li Yan's reckless move, Wang Renshan didn't even furrow his brow—this was precisely the moment when a commander needed to lead the charge and share the danger.

The final wave of assault was especially ferocious. The stench of blood hung thick before Yellow Ox Stockade. The Han soldiers, fearless in the face of death, pressed forward wave after wave, engaging the enemy in close combat with cold steel, lasting nearly two quarters of a shichen. On the stockade wall, the Shu army had to rotate through two full shifts of men before they managed to hold.

Hearing the battle cries beginning to wane, Wang Renshan turned his head and looked at the setting sun—already half-hidden behind the mountain ridges. The remaining glow was gorgeous, but the evening clouds that filled the sky were exceptionally crimson.

"Sound the gong—have General Li withdraw the troops!" Wang Renshan ordered.

Under the cover of night, the soldiers filed back to camp one after another. Sick tents, medicinal herbs, and medical officers had long been prepared to receive and treat the wounded. The scent of blood added a layer of gravity to the entire camp; the Han soldiers who had not fought felt it keenly, and a sense of oppression was unavoidable.

Wang Renshan personally saw to the arrangements for the returning troops and camp defenses, then made the rounds to steady the army's morale.

In the wounded soldiers' camp, groans of pain rang out without cease, the smell of medicinal salves mingling with the pervasive stench of blood. Within the camp, great cauldrons boiled water, and the bustle was busy but orderly. Li Yan sat on a low stool, bare-armed and drenched in sweat, as a medical officer extracted the arrowhead from his flesh, then applied medicine and bandaged the wound with practiced skill.

"How bad is the wound?" Wang Renshan entered and asked.

Wiping the sweat from his brow with a piece of white cloth, Li Yan's face twitched: "A minor wound, nothing serious—just a bite from a stray arrow!"

The two of them made the rounds together, inspecting the wounded soldiers. In the assault on the stockade, severe wounds far outnumbered light ones, but those who had made it back alive all had injuries that could still be treated.

Even so, there were many ghastly sights, shocking to behold—but for commanders like Wang Renshan and Li Yan, they counted for little; their hearts had long turned to iron and stone. Even the Han soldiers, though they felt a pang of unease, were not surprised—their minds had long since grown numb.

As for the wounded soldiers themselves, perhaps there was even a sense of relief—at least they had kept their lives and returned to camp alive. Until their wounds healed, they would mostly be spared from the battles to come.

"What are the casualties?" Li Yan asked.

Wang Renshan said: "The count is done. Of the soldiers who took part in the assault, fewer than seven hundred returned, and more than half are wounded. These two battalions are crippled—their combat strength won't recover anytime soon!"

"That Han Jixun has some skill. Watching his on-site command and responses, he's quite methodical!" Wang Renshan said.

Li Yan nodded, took a deep breath, and said: "Still, the Shu army's combat power is indeed inferior to ours. Facing our attack today, they seemed caught off guard.

On Yellow Ox Stockade, their forces likewise can't deploy fully. Judging from today's fierce fighting, once we get onto that wall, in close-quarters combat they are absolutely no match for our men.

Even if we just grind them down by attrition, we can break them. But after today's battle, the Shu army will surely fight to the death to stop our men from climbing the wall. To get up there and fight again, we'll have to pay a heavier price—more of our soldiers will die!"

Hearing Li Yan lay out the gains and losses of the battle in full, Wang Renshan nodded in agreement. After a moment's thought, he said: "In taking cities and stockades, sacrifice is unavoidable. But now that we know the enemy's situation, it's time for us to make up our minds!"

"How do you plan to fight it?"

"The whole army continues to rest. Tonight, send small detachments with banners and drums to harass them in rotation—first wear down their morale!" Wang Renshan said.

"The Shu army has built their stockade on the high ground and is defending—I doubt harassment will be effective!" Li Yan shook his head.

"Even so, we'll keep the enemy inside that stockade on edge, never allowing them a moment's peace!" Wang Renshan revealed a sly smile.

"Tomorrow, ten thunderbolt catapults will arrive. Then bows and crossbows hold the line, flying stones and fire oil strike them, and death-daring men lead the climb. We'll throw everything at the stockade and break it in one battle—no more breathing room for them!" Wang Renshan clenched his fist, murderous intent radiating, his tone resolute.

"After the meal, gather all the battalion commanders—we'll assign the battle tasks!"

Inside Yellow Ox Stockade, the Shu army's atmosphere was considerably more cheerful. After all, they had beaten back the Han army and won the first battle of the defense. To boost morale, Han Jixun ordered wine and meat brought out to reward the officers.

"The Han army may be fierce, but we hold every advantage of terrain in defense—what can they do to us?" A junior officer who had taken part in today's fighting rose, raising his wine bowl to Han Jixun: "I've counted—this battle the Han army left behind over three hundred corpses, with wounded beyond counting, and fled in panic! As for us, counting the dead and the wounded, light and severe, we've lost only about four hundred!"

"Governor, you can report upward and request credit for the victory!" Another man said. In the eyes of these Shu soldiers, the results achieved this time could be called "substantial"—enough to merit commendation.

"The Governor, heedless of danger, personally braved the arrows and blades to command the defense from the wall, and the soldiers were all inspired by him, fighting with all their might. This is all the Governor's merit—let us all toast the Governor!" Yet another officer popped up, heaping praise on Han Jixun, drawing a chorus of agreement.

Amid the clamor, Han Jixun couldn't help but crack a smile: "This is all the merit of the officers and men fighting hard. Such praise for me—I truly don't deserve it. The merit rolls have already been recorded, and the account and results of this battle have already been sent to Commander Li!"

"However!" Han Jixun's tone turned more serious: "Today's battle shows the excellence of the Han army's equipment and the ferocity of their armored soldiers—we must not be careless or underestimate them. We must continue to reinforce the stockade walls, stockpile more arrows and spears, wooden shields and large shields, rolling stones and boiling liquids, and keep the Han army stopped before the stockade. We cannot let them climb onto the wall as easily as they did today!"

"Yes!"

That night, after the hour grew late, before Yellow Ox Stockade, every half shichen the war drums and battle cries would rise—four times in succession—and the Shu army was greatly disturbed by it.

The next day, at the bu hour, the Han army came out in full force. Strong bows and stiff crossbows held the line, catapult stones and flying projectiles hammered the stockade wall, and Han general Wang Renshan selected five hundred death-daring men to lead the climb for the entire army, throwing everything into the assault.

The two sides fought for over two shichen. The Han soldiers, fearless in the face of death and ferocious as tigers and leopards, finally proved unstoppable—the stockade wall was destroyed, and the Shu army collapsed in retreat. The Han army broke through the stockade and pursued, and of the three thousand Shu troops, more than half were killed or wounded.

Shu general Han Jixun, willing but powerless, gathered his shattered remnants and fell back to Green Horse Ridge, behind and to the flank of Yellow Ox Stockade. Han generals Wang Renshan and Li Yan could be said to have achieved success in two battles.