Chapter 807: A Complete and Overwhelming Victory

"The Small Ridge has fallen!"

"The Small Ridge has fallen!"

The barely reassembled Shu army had just finished preparing to launch an attack when a Shu officer, riding hard over the rugged mountain paths, charged straight into the Great Mantian stockade, his manner frantic, shouting at the top of his lungs.

Seeing this, the hesitation on Wang Zhaoyuan's face instantly vanished. Once the man entered the stockade, he hurriedly ordered someone to pull the messenger off his horse and demanded sternly, "What did you say!"

Facing Wang Zhaoyuan's harsh interrogation, the junior officer finally steadied himself, his face full of lament: "Your Excellency, the Small Mantian stockade has fallen!"

"Impossible! You wretch, could you be a spy for the Han army, sent here to disrupt our morale!" Wang Zhaoyuan looked utterly incredulous and shouted him down sternly.

"The Small Ridge really has fallen!" Facing Wang Zhaoyuan's seemingly devouring expression, the messenger junior officer looked somewhat aggrieved.

Hearing this, Wang Zhaoyuan demanded angrily, "We've been at a stalemate until now—how could it suddenly fall! Didn't Wang Shenchao still have two battalions of soldiers as reserves? Where is Wang Shenchao? How did he lose the stockade on me?"

"The Han army attacked ferociously; we fought and resisted with all our might, but suddenly a contingent of Han troops, catching our army off guard, charged out from behind the stockade, attacking us from both sides—truly impossible to hold. Before the stockade fell, I was ordered to fight my way out and report. General Wang, General Wang—he was caught in the chaos of battle, alive or dead unknown!" the junior officer replied.

Hearing this, Wang Zhaoyuan's breath nearly caught in his throat—both furious and ashamed. He had come north to oversee the campaign, barely gotten started, and already the stockade was lost. Recalling his earlier grand gestures of directing strategy, full of high spirits, he nearly broke down on the spot.

After all, he was a man long accustomed to high position. He forced himself to calm down, and immediately felt somewhat ill at ease—it was Zhao Chongtao and the other generals, as well as the surrounding soldiers, all staring at him. That discomfort came from their gazes.

Sensing the wavering of morale, Wang Zhaoyuan snapped back to himself. Looking at the messenger junior officer, recalling how he had shouted his way into the stockade, he barely suppressed the impulse to kick him over.

Seeing the man's expression, he knew in his heart that no more information could be extracted from his mouth. He immediately gave orders: "Send men at once to survey the battle situation and probe the Han army's movements! Quickly recall the troops at Shendu!"

"Yes!" A messenger officer acknowledged and departed.

"Your Excellency Wang, since the northern stockade has fallen, our momentum is surely dampened. Once the Han army seizes the roads and finishes resting, they will certainly come to attack our southern stockade. The military situation is urgent—since you are here, how shall we repel the enemy? Please decide quickly?" Zhao Chongtao's expression was grave as he represented the generals in asking the slowly quieting Wang Zhaoyuan.

At this moment, he had no interest in sparring with Wang Zhaoyuan. It wasn't that his awareness was especially high, but that he felt the danger. After all, they were all in the same boat now—though the boat was leaking somewhat, it still needed a helmsman. Besides, with Wang Zhaoyuan in charge, whatever consequences came, the primary blame wouldn't fall on him.

He looked up at the expressions of the surrounding officers and soldiers. He didn't think those pairs of eyes all held expectation and trust. After brief consideration, trying to appear as composed as possible, he said: "Have the troops at Shendu immediately withdraw to the Great Mantian stockade, burn the floating bridge, have the officers in the stockade immediately adjust, reassure the soldiers, heighten vigilance, and strengthen the defenses of the Great Mantian stockade. The northern ridge is already lost—the southern ridge must not have problems!"

Having said this, Wang Zhaoyuan led his personal guards back to the commander's tent of the Great Mantian stockade. He left a group of Shu generals exchanging glances, and then all eyes turned to Zhao Chongtao. Seeing this, Zhao Chongtao waved his hand: "What are you all looking at me for? His Excellency Wang's command stands—why haven't you dismissed the soldiers and obeyed?"

Entering the commander's tent, Wang Zhaoyuan took out the Shu army's Lizhou military defense map and studied it carefully, as if seeking inspiration from it to reverse the tide of defeat and save the dire situation.

He looked earnest, but in truth his gaze was somewhat vacant. Still, Wang Zhaoyuan's mind was full of thoughts. He pondered deeply: where had the sneak-attacking Han troops come from? Were there other hidden moves? Should he also launch a surprise counterattack to retake the Small Mantian stockade? Should he transfer troops from the south northward for support?

But no matter how much he thought, it was all in vain. In the end, it would come down to the Han army's next move. From the moment the Small Mantian stockade fell—or rather, from when Gao Huaide's detached force began operating behind enemy lines—the Shu army's defensive line had sprung a huge leak, and the initiative in the war had completely fallen into the Han army's hands.

For the first time, Wang Zhaoyuan felt a sense of powerlessness, and doubt in himself. The course of the war had completely exceeded his expectations. The Han army's strength and the cunning of their generals left him at a loss.

Back when he had suffered the Qinfeng defeat, he had been directing remotely from Chengdu, so the impact hadn't been so deep—he had simply assumed the Shu generals were incompetent, unable to execute his strategies and tactics. But now, personally on the battlefield, before even truly facing the Han army, that pressure and might bearing down on him gave him a suffocating feeling as if a hand were gripping his throat.

He didn't have to wait long. The battle situation ahead became increasingly clear—and of course, the bad news kept coming. The Han army hadn't just broken the Small Mantian stockade; they had also pressed south in victory, running straight into the northward-advancing Shendu Shu troops. After a bout of fighting, the Shendu Shu troops were directly shattered by the Han general Gao Huaide, and the Han army seized the opportunity to advance rapidly, successfully capturing the Shendu floating bridge.

Meanwhile, within the Great Mantian stockade, learning of the defeat to the north, morale was shaken—especially as defeated Shendu troops straggled back one after another, adding to the anxiety. Everyone couldn't help but wonder: the Small Mantian stockade had been so perilously fortified, yet the Han army had taken it in half a day. How long could the Great Mantian stockade hold out?

Not long after the hour of Shen had begun, the autumn sun shifted, and the light spilling across the Shu stockade grew several degrees colder. Another group of Shu defeated soldiers came hurrying south, utterly bedraggled, helmets and armor discarded, though they still clutched their weapons. There weren't many—a rough count put them at around two hundred—and they moved with urgent steps, as if hungry wolves were chasing behind them.

As they drew near, a junior officer burst out from among the defeated troops. He looked sturdy and burly, and spoke in a Sichuan accent, saying urgently: "We are the defenders of Shendu! Open the stockade gate quickly, save us—the Han army is pursuing behind!"

Over the past half hour or so, they had already taken in some scattered Shendu defeated troops who had fled south, just not this many. Still, hearing that familiar accent, and seeing at the far edge of vision along the mountain road faint Han banners flickering...

The situation was urgent. The junior officer at the gate, not sparing time for further thought, immediately ordered the gate opened, while sending someone to report that enemy troops were approaching and to sound the alarm throughout the stockade.

"Hurry, get inside! Don't block the gate! Go straight to the left stockade ahead—Governor Zhao has arranged a place for you to rest!" the junior officer stepped forward and directed.

The leading defeated-army officer stepped up, and as he raised his eyes, a smile like a spring breeze spread across his face. He said sincerely, "A thousand thanks!"

"No..." Before the gate-keeping officer could grasp the meaning of that smile, a flash of light streaked past—and then, there was no "then"...

Having cut down the Shu officer guarding the gate, the leading officer only shouted "Kill!" at the top of his lungs, then led his men charging at the completely unprepared Shu soldiers at the stockade entrance. Behind them, the "pursuing" Han troops quickened their pace even more. In less than a moment, killing cries erupted on all sides within the Shu Great Mantian stockade.

Suddenly hearing the killing cries from the front of the stockade, as if sounding right at his ears, Wang Zhaoyuan was greatly startled and hurriedly sent someone to investigate. Zhao Chongtao walked in personally, looked at Wang Zhaoyuan, and said urgently: "Your Excellency Wang, stop studying that stockade map! The Han army has arrived suddenly—they're already attacking the stockade! The gate has been breached!"

Hearing this, Wang Zhaoyuan found it somewhat unbelievable: "Are the Han troops incapable of feeling tired? They took the northern stockade, seized Shendu, and still dare to launch a lightning assault on our fortified southern ridge?"

"What? You say the gate has been breached!" As he spoke, suddenly snapping to attention, Wang Zhaoyuan's eyes flew wide: "Didn't I tell you to heighten vigilance? The killing cries just arose—how could the stockade already be breached?"

"A small contingent of Han troops disguised themselves as defeated Shendu soldiers. The gate commander failed to notice and let them in!" Zhao Chongtao was also seething with anger.

"Damn it! How could they be so careless!" Wang Zhaoyuan's eyes split with rage: "The Han main force must be following right behind! Send men immediately to retake the gate!"

"I've already dispatched troops!" Zhao Chongtao looked at Wang Zhaoyuan and said gravely: "Your Excellency Wang, with the Han army launching a full-scale assault on the stockade, surely you don't intend to repel the enemy while sitting in the tent!"

Hearing this, Wang Zhaoyuan suppressed the shock and fear in his heart, rose, grabbed his sword, and stumbled out of the tent.

Within the Great Mantian Shu stockade, chaos reigned—like a drop of water falling into a pot of oil, boiling over violently, surging with people and clamor, uproar rising on all sides. Though the stockade was vast and its fortifications sturdy, once the Han troops had successfully charged in, the outcome was already sealed.

Wang Zhaoyuan, Zhao Chongtao, and the other Shu commanders did put up a struggle, directing their troops to resist. But a routed army collapses like a landslide—the repeatedly battered Shu soldiers were no match for the surging, high-spirited Han troops. After a bitter battle lasting over an hour, they completely collapsed. Wang Zhaoyuan and Zhao Chongtao, leading fewer than three thousand remnant troops, broke off the fight and abandoned the stockade, retreating toward Miangu.

Along the way, they sent men to Miangu to notify Yi Shenzheng to lead troops out to receive them. However, before reaching the prefectural city, they heard more bad news: while the Han and Shu armies were locked in fierce battle at the Great and Small Mantian ridges, a contingent of Han troops had launched a surprise attack on Miangu. Yi Shenzheng, unable to hold, had abandoned the city and fled south with his men.

Hearing this, he felt as if struck by lightning. He sucked in a sharp breath, as if trying to drain all the cold air from the atmosphere. Recalling Yi Shenzheng's solemn assurances before he had come north to oversee the campaign, he had the urge to strangle the man.

At the same time, his expression turned somewhat plaintive. How was it that Han troops were circling around everywhere? Just how many men had the Han army sent on flanking maneuvers? Was this treacherous Shu road a fake?

"Blocked ahead, pursued from behind—we shall be captured by the Han army!" Wang Zhaoyuan sighed long.

"Head for Jubaijin!" Zhao Chongtao said. "As long as the ferry crossing is still ours, we still have a thread of hope!"

Not daring to hesitate, the two hurriedly led their men, sparing no effort, and hastily changed course toward the Jialing River ferry southwest of Miangu: Jubaijin.

Under the cover of night, at Jubaijin, fierce flames blazed. The ruddy firelight reflected on the faces of the Shu defeated soldiers who had rushed there with all their might—despair written plainly across every face.

The one who had set fire to the floating bridge was not the Han army, but Yi Shenzheng, who had fled there ahead of them...

"Yi Shenzheng has ruined me!" A shrill cry of rage rang out by the banks of the Jialing River, quickly swallowed by the sound of wind and water.

And on the flank of the Shu force, Guo Jin, who had led troops to seize Miangu city, arrived at the ferry a step late. Though he had brought only two battalions in pursuit, seeing this routed force of Wang and Zhao, he looked at them like a piece of fat meat. Before long, a wavering blaze of torchlight came from the northeast—those coming to share the feast had arrived!

This time, they were truly trapped in a dead end!

The Great and Small Mantian stockades had been broken, Miangu city had been taken—the Lizhou campaign had been fully accomplished.