Chapter 666: Fierce Battle

Wang Xiong watched his comrades fall one by one, his heart filled with grief, yet his resolve to defend the city grew stronger.

He brandished his Long Sword, cutting down enemy after enemy; his armor was already dyed crimson with blood, and his body bore several wounds of varying depth, but he still stood atop the wall like an unshakable war god.

The battle lasted until dusk again, and the Qi army, after paying an even heavier price, reluctantly withdrew once more.

That day, Gancao City lost over 230 people, while the Qi army's losses reached over 2,700; on the battlefield the Qi army's corpses piled like mountains, a sight too horrible to bear.

The dawn of the third day was torn apart by the thunderous drums of the Qi army.

Without the probing of the first two days, nor the gradual buildup, over ten thousand remaining Qi troops, like enraged beasts with a madness to burn everything, launched a tide‑like fierce assault on Gancao City.

In one night they hastily built more crude yet deadly siege engines; many ladders were reinforced with wooden frames, their tops fitted with iron hooks; the siege carts' fronts were wrapped in thick wet Herd of Cattle hide, trying to resist Fuel and arrow attacks.

The sounds of horse hooves, shouts, and clashing machinery intertwined, forming a ferocious torrent that pounded toward the battered yet still standing city walls.

At this moment Gancao City, after two days of bloody battle, the defenders had lost nearly 400, and Wang Xiong's over 90 Private Soldiers were down to just over 60.

Everyone's face bore heavy fatigue, sunken eyes, the bloodstains on armor had long dried and blackened, wounds were simply bandaged, and moving caused excruciating pain.

But when they saw the Qi army swelling below like an ant swarm, no one hesitated; only a resolve to die and be reborn remained.

"Each fulfill his duty, hold the position to the death!" Wang Xiong's voice was hoarse like sandpaper rubbing, yet still carried penetrating power.

His armor had long been soaked through with blood, solidifying into dark‑red hard clods; a deep bone‑visible sword wound on his shoulder, left from yesterday, was now tightly bound with cloth strips, bleeding, soaking the shoulder armor black.

Wang Xiong leaned on his Long Sword, standing at the highest point of the wall, his gaze sweeping the battlefield like a hawk, each command precise and decisive.

Huang Shizhang stood beside him, his beard streaked with blood beads and dust; the heavy Shield in his hand was already riddled with cracks, its edge ragged.

He shouted loudly, "Boys! The Qi dogs are at the end of their strength! Hold one more day and they will collapse on their own!"

Having said that, he suddenly raised the Shield, blocking the first volley of arrows; amid the "ding‑dang" clatter, the arrows were deflected, landing on the wall and kicking up fine dust.

The siege battle instantly entered a white‑hot stage. Qi arrows rained down on the wall; many young soldiers failed to dodge, fell dead on the spot, their screams rose and fell.

Siege carts, bearing arrow rain and rolling stones, creaked "chi‑ya" as they approached the wall; the massive battering ram hammered the gate hard, shaking the wall faintly, and debris fell from the wall.

Ladders were quickly set against the wall, iron hooks biting the parapet; Qi soldiers climbed like starving wolves, snarling, their weapons flashing coldly.

"Throw the rolling stones! Pour the Fuel!" Wang Xiong roared, first grabbing a rolling stone weighing over a hundred jin, hurling it at the climbing Qi troops below the city.

The rolling stone whooshed down, instantly shattering a ladder; the few Qi soldiers on it screamed and fell, landing in a mess of blood and flesh.

The defenders on the wall and the young soldiers followed suit; rolling stones and wooden beams fell like hail, Fuel was ignited and poured down, forming walls of fire that turned the base of the wall into a sea of flames; the air reeked of burnt flesh, making one vomit.

The winch and the bed crossbow still exerted deadly power.

Five soldiers formed a team, exhausting their last strength to turn the winch; the massive bolt from the bed crossbow whistled out, piercing the wet cattle hide of the siege cart, pinning the soldiers inside to the wooden frame; blood streamed down the arrow shaft, staining the ground red.

The catapult's thrown boulder struck the Qi formation, raising clouds of smoke; each impact could take several lives.

Yet the Qi army's assault was too fierce; they surged like madmen who cared not for life or death, charging the wall in endless waves.

Despite the heavy casualties, more and more soldiers kept climbing onto the wall.

A Junior Officer of the Qi army was the first to flip over the parapet; his long knife slashed at a young defender on the wall, who was caught off guard, struck on the shoulder, and fell screaming.

Immediately after, the second, third… dozens of Qi soldiers successively reached the wall, brandishing weapons, launching a fierce attack on the defenders; the wall's defense was ripped open with a gap.

"Hold the gap! Do not let them expand the front!" Huang Shizhang roared, charging forward with his heavy Shield; the Shield slammed into a Qi soldier, knocking him back several steps, then a long knife swing beheaded the opponent.

Yet Qi soldiers kept pouring in, soon surrounding Huang Shizhang and others; both sides entered a brutal melee.

At this critical moment, a flash of ruthlessness crossed Wang Xiong's eyes; he suddenly drew his waist‑long sword and shouted, "Soldiers of the Wang family, follow me! Slay all who scale the city!"

Before the words left his mouth, he already surged into the enemy ranks; the Long Sword flashed like a silver ribbon, with a whistling wind, stabbing a Qi officer's chest.

The officer, caught off guard, was pierced through the heart; blood spurted out, splashing Wang Xiong's face.

Over sixty Private Soldiers followed closely; they were elite troops carefully selected by Wang Xiong's father, each highly skilled and fearless.

They formed a compact formation, their long knives and Long Swords swinging densely, like a sharp wedge thrust into the Qi ranks.

Cries of agony rang continuously; the Qi soldiers who had reached the wall fell like cut wheat under their fierce assault.

Every swing of Wang Xiong's Long Sword was accompanied by blood spraying.

The wound on his shoulder was torn open, blood ran down his arm, dripping onto the city bricks, forming dark‑red blossoms.

Yet he seemed to feel no pain; his eyes saw only the enemy and the belief to defend Gancao City.

A Qi soldier attempted a side attack, his long knife aiming at Wang Xiong's back; Wang Xiong twisted sharply, the Long Sword flicked back, sending the opponent's long knife flying.

He then kicked the foe's chest, sending him down the wall.

"Sima, be careful!" Hong Xi's voice suddenly rang out.

Wang Xiong turned his head, seeing a tall Qi brute wielding a heavy axe, swinging at his head; the axe blade whooshed with wind, massive and heavy.

Wang Xiong had no time to dodge, only raised his sword to block; with a "dang" clang, the Long Sword collided with the heavy axe, sparks flying.

Wang Xiong felt his arm go numb, his thumb cracked, blood flowing down the sword hilt.

The brute saw this, a smug glint in his eyes, swung the axe again.

At this hair‑trigger moment, a Private Soldier threw himself forward, shielding Wang Xiong; the heavy axe cleaved his back, splitting his armor, flesh and blood a mess.

The Private Soldier let out a muffled groan, fell to the ground, and before dying clutched the brute's leg tightly.

Wang Xiong's eyes flashed with grief and anger; seizing the chance, his Long Sword thrust fiercely into the brute's chest, slaying him.

He leaned over the fallen Private Soldier, his eyes full of resolve, and shouted, "Avenge my brothers! Kill!"

The melee on the wall grew ever more brutal. The defenders and the young soldiers, seeing Wang Xiong lead the charge, morale surged, they mustered courage and engaged the Qi soldiers in a life‑or‑death fight.

Li Shun wielded a long knife, eyes blood‑shot; he recalled Zhang Gui's dying request, remembered the comrades sacrificed in recent days, his sorrow turned into boundless strength, and a single slash cut off a Qi soldier's arm.

Tang Yong's leg wound had long split open, blood soaking his trousers, yet he still gritted his teeth, drawing his bow with all his might, each arrow aimed at the Qi's vital points.

The Qi army below, seeing the wall‑top soldiers being held fast, launched another fierce assault, trying to aid their comrades on the wall.

Arrows rained onto the wall, rolling stones and Fuel could not fully stop their advance.

A Qi soldier barely managed to climb onto the wall; just as he steadied himself, an old veteran struck his head with a flat wooden pole, sending him crashing to the ground.

The old veteran gasped heavily, his face covered with sweat and dust, yet still clutched the flat wooden pole, watching the city below warily.

The battle lasted from dawn to dusk; the sun gradually slid westward, the sky dyed a blood‑red.

The corpses piled on the city wall were as high as a mountain, blood ran down the wall, gathering beneath the foot of the city into a dark‑red stream; the air was thick with the heavy smell of blood and gunpowder, suffocating.

The defending troops and the young warriors were already exhausted; many leaned against the ramparts, gasping heavily, their weapons nearly slipping from their grasp, yet they still did not give up, and their eyes still flashed with steadfast light.

Wang Xiong still stood on the city wall; his Long Sword had long been stained red with blood, its blade riddled with notches, new wounds covering his arms, shoulders and chest, blood flowing down his armor and dripping onto the stone bricks beneath his feet.

His complexion was as pale as paper, his lips chapped, yet he still gripped the Long Sword tightly, his sharp gaze sweeping the battlefield.

Finally, when the last ray of sunlight vanished on the horizon, a metallic sound of the Qi army's retreat rang out.

The remaining Qi soldiers retreated like a tide, dragging their weary bodies, bearing countless wounds and despair, and slowly left the battlefield.

On the city wall, only corpses strewn everywhere, broken weapons, and the exhausted defenders remained.

"We held it! We held it!" someone shouted first, and immediately, a thunderous cheer erupted from the city wall.

More than a thousand surviving defenders and young warriors forgot their fatigue and pain, raised their weapons, and shouted jubilantly.

Many exhausted soldiers could no longer hold on, collapsed on the city wall, leaning against the rampart to rest, yet a smile of survival after disaster appeared on their faces.

Wang Xiong planted his Long Sword, his whole body drenched in blood, like a death god emerging from hell.

He stared at the withdrawing Qi army, at the setting sun on the horizon, his eyes filled with depth and resolve.

The lingering glow of the setting sun bathed him, stretching his silhouette long; the bloodstains on his body glowed a dark red in the sunset.

He knew that in these three days of bloody battle they had paid a terrible price, countless brothers forever remained on the city wall, yet they had held Gancao City and the lands behind it.

Hong Xi walked to Wang Xiong's side; his arm was slashed, the bandage already soaked with blood, and in a hoarse voice he reported, "Sima, our forces lost three hundred men in this battle, while the Qi army lost over two thousand!"

Wang Xiong nodded, said nothing, and continued to stare into the distance.

At the same time, in the Qi army's camp, the atmosphere was so oppressive that it took one's breath away.

Liu Zaizhou held the battle report in his hand, his face full of anger and resentment; he slammed the report to the ground and roared, "Damn it! Who is the defending commander in Gancao City that can hold it so well!"

"After three days of fierce assaults, we lost nearly six thousand men, yet we still could not completely breach the city wall!"

Liu Zaizhou was tall and rugged; at this moment his face was ferocious, and his eyes flashed with fury.

The successive siege failures had long drained his patience; the Horse Whip in his hand struck the ground hard, raising clouds of dust.

The generals beneath the tent lowered their heads one after another, unwilling to speak; they knew Liu Zaizhou's temper well, and no one wanted to provoke him now.

Gao Xiaoyu sat on the main seat, his complexion so gloomy it seemed it could drip water.

He wore armor, his face handsome, yet exuded an innate authority and obsession.

Hearing Liu Zaizhou's roar, he said nothing, only clenched his fists tightly, his knuckles turning white from the strain.

Three consecutive days of defeat and a loss of nearly six thousand men was, to him, an unprecedented humiliation.

He had originally thought that capturing the tiny Gancao City would be as easy as flipping his palm, but he did not expect to meet such tenacious resistance.

"Go to General Ding and summon twenty thousand men back!" Gao Xiaoyu's voice was ice‑cold and bone‑piercing, carrying unquestionable resolve, "I, the Crown Prince, will not believe that I cannot take that tiny Gancao City!"

Liu Zaizhou heard the words, a flash of surprise crossed his eyes, then he clasped his fists, bowed, and loudly replied, "As you command! Subordinate General will go deliver the order at once!"

"Hold on!" Gao Xiaoyu raised his hand to stop him, continuing to command, "In the coming days, hasten the production of siege engines—ladders, siege carts, catapults—the more the better!"

At that moment, Gao Xiaoyu's eyes were filled with obsession and madness; he was already out of his mind.

The tenacious resistance of Gancao City completely enraged him, and plunged him into an obsession that he would not rest until Gancao City fell.

He cared not how many troops were lost, nor what price was paid; he only wanted victory, to trample Gancao City beneath his feet, and to make those tenacious defending troops pay.

Liu Zaizhou watched the obsession in Gao Xiaoyu's eyes, sighed silently in his heart, yet dared not defy, and again clasped his fists, replying, "As you command! Subordinate General will handle it immediately!"

Having said that, he turned and strode swiftly out of the main tent.

Inside the main tent, Gao Xiaoyu rose slowly, stepped outside, gazed toward Gancao City, his eyes filled with icy murderous intent. He murmured, "Gancao City, the Crown Prince wants to see how much longer you can still hold!"