Chapter 682: Tail‑to‑Tail Deathmatch, the Northern Mystic‑Plate Iron Wall

The scorching July sun was like a red‑hot iron.

It mercilessly baked Xiazhou.

The wasteland had long been soaked with fresh blood.

There was no hint of coolness left in the wind.

Only a thick, nauseating stench remained.

It was the sweat, excrement, and still‑wet blood of tens of thousands of Qi soldiers.

These substances fermented rapidly under the heat.

They merged into a heavy aura called death.

The death pressed down on everyone's mouth and nose.

"Faster! Even faster! Anyone who dares to slow down, I'll tear them apart first!"

Gao Xiaoyu crouched on his horse, his voice shrill as a rooster whose neck had been stepped on.

He carried a hysterical madness.

His Gold‑inlaid Battle Armor had once symbolized the supreme honor of the Great Qi Crown Prince.

Now, under the scorching sun, it reflected a blinding glare.

It became the most ironic and conspicuous burden on the wasteland.

The glare made his own eyes ache and turned him into a live target amid the chaos.

Behind him, the two thousand elite Qi cavalry had long lost the invincibility they displayed during sieges.

These so‑called elites now wore a pallid complexion.

Their gazes were scattered; they mechanically flogged the saddles beneath them.

The warhorses' hindquarters were streaked with blood from the Horse Whip.

One could even see torn flesh.

They were still being forced by their riders to exhaust the last ounce of strength.

Behind the cavalry were eighteen thousand foot soldiers, almost mindless, in rout.

They discarded their heavy Shield and tossed their life‑saving Long Spear.

Some soldiers didn't even notice that they had lost their shoes.

Bare soles were ground on the scorching broken‑stone ground until flesh and blood smeared.

Each step left a clear bloodstain.

Fear made them unable to feel pain.

They instinctively stared ahead.

Staring at the Commander's Banner that represented a hope of escape.

They fled northward in a frenzy.

Chen Yan led over nine hundred elite cavalry of the Left Martial Guard.

He constantly kept a distance of about half a li.

That distance was gauged with extreme precision.

It would not allow the Qi army, in desperation, to fight back to the death.

It was also like an invisible noose, forever hanging over the Qi army's neck.

Chen Yan was not eager to encircle them at full speed.

He used this cat‑and‑mouse pressure.

Gradually gnawing away the Qi army's remaining will.

"Zhu Guo, these Qi dogs run like rabbits."

Pang Chong brandished his Great Sword, sweating profusely.

"Let's just charge and crush them all. Watching these cowards wobble ahead, my heart is burning like fire."

His warhorse sneezed uneasily, spitting out gusts of hot air.

Chen Yan sat upright on his horse, his spine perfectly straight.

One hand steadily rested on the horse lance.

He gave Pang Chong a faint glance.

His voice was calm, yet carried an authority that commanded the whole situation.

"What's the hurry? With twenty thousand routed troops, if we encircle them at full speed now, they know they'll die and inevitably will think like trapped beasts."

"When they make a death‑rending counterattack, how many more of my Left Martial Guard brothers will be lost?"

Chen Yan paused.

His gaze looked deeply at the Qi army ahead, shrouded in rolling smoke.

A highly rational and cold curve lifted the corner of his mouth.

"What the Duke wants is to make them exhaust the last ounce of strength in their bodies amid the desperation of escape."

"When their lungs are about to burst like bellows, and they can't even grip a sword, that's when the fruit can be harvested most securely."

"This is the Psychological Bloodletting Method. Fear always destroys an army more than swords can."

That is Chen Yan's ruthless edge.

As a commander, he knows all too well where this army's organizational limit lies.

He doesn't need to clash head‑on; he only needs to be a patient butcher, watching the prey exhaust its life while running.

"Lu Ming, give them a spark of fire."

"Don't let them run too comfortably; make them know Death is right behind them."

Chen Yan ordered coldly.

"Orders received!"

Lu Ming let out a heaven-shaking, earth-shattering roar.

That voice was rough and vigorous, like an ancient ferocious beast just released from its cage.

He suddenly spurred his horse's flanks.

That mountain-like body instantly accelerated.

He charged alone into the rear formation of the Qi army infantry.

That two-zhang-long Refined Iron Horse Spear swept horizontally in his hands like a windmill.

Accompanied by the teeth-grinding sound of bones cracking.

He instantly impaled three Qi army Junior Officers who were trying to turn around and beg for mercy.

Lu Ming's divine strength exploded in his arms, veins bulging on his forehead.

He actually tossed those three corpses high into the air toward the front of the Qi army, like throwing sacks of hemp.

"Gao Xiaoyu! Watch closely, this is what happens to those who block this general's path! You're next!"

The corpses crashed heavily onto the Qi army's retreat path.

Broken limbs severed, warm blood splattered all over the faces of the surrounding soldiers.

This ultimate visual shock became the final straw that broke the Qi army's psychological defenses.

The infantry went completely mad.

To get ahead, they began frantically shoving and trampling their own comrades.

"Get out of the way! Don't block my path!"

"Help! Don't step on me... Pfft!"

Screams merged into one continuous sound.

Gao Xiaoyu turned his head back in terror.

He saw only that banner embroidered with "Duke of Wei, Chen" clinging to him like a stubborn disease, following close behind.

The great banner flapped loudly in the wind.

Every sway was like the beckoning of the Grim Reaper.

Reminding him that time was running out.

And just then, a black line stretching for several li suddenly appeared at the edge of the horizon.

At first, that black line was like a swarm of busy black ants.

Faintly visible and hidden behind the undulating mounds.

As the distance closed, the black line rapidly expanded and rose.

Finally, it transformed into a suffocating steel Great Wall.

"Th... that is wha..."

Gao Xiaoyu's pupils suddenly contracted.

His voice stuck in his throat, leaving only a gurgling sound.

That was another banner.

A black great banner fluttered in the wind.

In the middle was a huge, dark red character: Zhou.

And on the Deputy Banner was clearly written: General of Left Martial Guard, Feng.

Feng Muye!

This general, at the same time Chen Yan set out on campaign, had been secretly dispatched to make a detour through the Northern Border.

At this moment, he was leading ten thousand Great Zhou Infantry, arrayed in the tightest formation.

They were like a massive black reef, lying across the Qi army's only escape route.

Horse spears stood like a forest, slanting toward the sky.

Under the sunlight, those sharp spear tips connected into a dazzling sheet of cold light.

As if about to cut heaven and earth apart.

On both flanks of the Infantry Square Formation, two thousand Elite Cavalry had already drawn their bowstrings.

Horses' hooves restlessly pawed the ground, kicking up clouds of dust.

They had been waiting here for a long time.

Just waiting for Chen Yan to drive this herd of pigs into the pen.

"How is it possible... How can the Zhou Army have a Rear Guard here? Where did they get the troops?"

Gao Xiaoyu's entire body went limp on his horse's back.

The hand holding the reins trembled continuously.

His painstakingly managed Eastern Expedition plan, his arrogant boast of "Three Days No Sealing Blades."

At this moment, it all turned into a complete and utter joke.

He had thought he was the hunter besieging Gancao City.

But he never expected that from the moment Chen Yan set foot in Xiazhou, he, Gao Xiaoyu, was merely the prey being driven into a dead end by Chen Yan.

"This is the burial ground this Duke has prepared for you."

"Since you're here, don't leave."

Chen Yan coldly watched from the rear as the Qi army ahead fell into despair.

A cruel arc curled at the corner of his mouth.

The routed twenty‑thousand Qi troops halted.

They stared at the fresh troops ahead, arrayed in tight formation.

They also heard the Demon God's roar drawing ever closer from behind.

It was a suffocating sensation of having no path to the heavens and no door to the earth.