Chapter 851: Iron cavalry crushes Black Wind Pass, military blade exposes the wolf behind the curtain

The tremor of the earth came from the western end of the canyon, the frequency becoming denser and heavier, as if a giant beast that had slept for a thousand years was turning over from beneath the ground.

Gravel jumped on the ground, and tiny sand grains slid down from the cliffs, hitting the bandits' shoulder armor with a dense rustling sound.

The curved blade held high in the bandit leader's hand froze in mid-air, his triangular eyes shifting abruptly from Zhao Tiezhu's face toward the west of the canyon.

He saw it.

The black iron torrent rolled over the low sand dunes at the canyon entrance, like a moving wall of steel, filling the entire canyon road from left to right.

Five hundred warhorses, four abreast, stretched over a hundred paces in depth. The gravel and yellow sand kicked up by the hooves formed a two-zhang-high yellow-earth curtain behind them, swallowing all moonlight and firelight into that surging dust storm.

The bandit leader's pupils contracted to pinpricks within that breath.

"Retreat! Everyone retreat!"

His voice reached a cracking pitch, his curved blade waving wildly in the air, the reins of his black horse pulled so hard they were nearly severed.

But it was too late.

Ye Zhuxi rode the chestnut warhorse at the very front of the iron-armored formation, the tip of the long spear in her hand tracing a straight silver line in the night wind, the spear tassel pulled by the wind into a small blood-red flag.

Her voice cut out from the very front of the iron formation—not loud, but every word sounded like it had been chiseled from beneath a layer of ice.

"Kill without mercy."

In the instant those words landed, the five hundred Beiwei Death Guards dispersed from their neat four-abreast formation.

No shouting.

No war cries.

Only the dull thud of iron armor colliding and the sharp whinnying of warhorses intertwined, forming a rhythm more chilling than any roar.

Groups of three.

Every three riders formed a small arrowhead formation. The front rider held a Mo blade to thrust in the center, while the left and right riders each held long spears slanted outward. The distance between the three horses was exactly one horse-length, neither interfering with each other nor failing to form a three-zhang-wide fan of death the moment they charged.

This was the three-three cavalry tactic that Chen Yan had spent three full months in the Lecture Hall simulating on the sand table and practicing repeatedly on the training ground.

The first wave of three-three groups cut into the front of the bandit formation like swallows skimming water. After the front-row Mo blade wielders struck their first blow, they did not stop; the speed of the warhorses increased rather than decreased during the slash, and the entire group slid out from the side of the bandit formation along an arc.

The second wave followed closely, cutting into the gap left by the first.

The third wave flanked from the side of the second.

Continuous, layered, like waves crashing against a reef; as one wave receded, the next immediately covered it, without a half-breath of gap in between.

The bandit leader's black horse began to spin wildly in place the moment the first wave of impact arrived. He pulled the reins desperately, trying to turn the horse's head, a distorted roar emerging from his throat.

"Form up! Form up for me!"

No one listened to him.

The one hundred and fifty mounted bandits, faced with the three-man cell division tactics, were like raw meat thrown into a meat grinder; within a few breaths, they were sliced into countless fragments that could no longer coordinate with one another.

Three bandits tried to resist abreast. The first three-three group cut through their front; the Mo blade hacked down the one in the middle, and the long spear flicked away the reins of the one on the left. The second group filled in from the side, stabbing the out-of-control bandit from his horse with a spear.

Five bandits tried to break through toward the east of the canyon. Two three-three groups closed in from the flanks, six warhorses forming a pocket-shaped encirclement. Mo blades and long spears fell from three directions simultaneously; the five men didn't even have time to finish their screams before they tumbled from their horses.

Flesh and blood flew.

Severed limbs rolled in the firelight, landing on the gravel ground. The grassland horsemanship the bandits were so proud of became a massive joke at this moment.

They couldn't even touch the hem of the Beiwei Death Guards' clothes.

Every charging trajectory of the three-three groups was an arc precise enough to make one's scalp tingle: cut in, slash, pull away, yield, the next group seamlessly connecting. The entire process was like a steel meat grinder driven by precision gears—cold, efficient, without any wasted movement.

A bandit swung a curved blade at the nearest Death Guard. Before the blade touched the armor plate, the long spear on the left had already pierced beneath his armpit, lifting him from his horse and throwing him onto the gravel.

Another bandit turned his horse to run. Just as the rear hooves lifted, a Mo blade swept across from behind, the upper half of man and horse flying forward, the lower half remaining in place.

The bandit leader's triangular eyes were filled with pure fear.

He had seen the fiercest horse thieves on the grassland, seen the Turkic wolf cavalry, seen the elite personal guard cavalry of Zhao Chongde in the Suizhou camp.

But he had never seen this kind of fighting style.

This wasn't a cavalry charge; this was a pack of well-trained hunting dogs surrounding a group of wild rabbits that had lost their way.

"What the hell is this!"

His voice was completely distorted as it emerged from his throat, the curved blade in his hand trembling until the blade itself hummed.

The answer to him was a silver ray of light.

Ye Zhuxi's chestnut horse cut out from the gaps in the three-three formation, moving so fast the bandit leader's pupils couldn't track it at all.

Her body was pressed extremely low on the horse's back, the spear shaft pressed against the horse's neck, the tip pointing forward, the spear tassel dragging a blood-red tail in the wind.

The bandit leader raised his curved blade, slashing down toward that silver ray of light.

The spear tip arrived half a breath before the curved blade fell.

The long spear pierced through the center of the bandit leader's chest armor, the tip protruding from his back, bringing out a mist of dark red blood.

Ye Zhuxi's arm flicked upward the moment it pierced through, the elasticity of the spear shaft lifting the bandit leader's entire body from the horse, suspending him high in mid-air.

The firelight shone on the body lifted by the spear. The black cloth slid from his face, revealing a countenance distorted to the extreme by fear. His triangular eyes were wide to the limit, his mouth agape, a mouthful of blood surging from his throat, dripping down his chin onto the gravel ground.

Ye Zhuxi flicked the long spear downward, the corpse sliding off the tip and smashing heavily onto the gravel, splashing a spray of blood and stones.

She wiped the spear shaft against the leather holster beside the saddle, wiping away most of the blood, her voice as cold as the night wind blowing into the canyon.

"Clean up the remnants. Leave none alive."

The battle ended completely within half a stick of incense.

The gravel ground of Black Wind Pass was paved with the corpses and severed limbs of the bandits, blood seeping through the gaps in the gravel, dyeing the entire ground a nauseating dark red.

One hundred and fifty horse bandits, none survived.

The casualties of the Beiwei Death Guards were three lightly wounded and one warhorse with a broken front hoof.

Ye Zhuxi reined in her horse and looked back toward the canyon entrance.

A black steed walked slowly from the rear of the iron-armored formation. The figure on its back, wearing purple robes and a gold belt, showed a clear silhouette in the firelight.

Chen Yan rode past the gravel ground paved with corpses, his horse's hooves making a dull splashing sound in the pools of blood. His gaze swept over the scattered corpses without stopping.

He reined in his horse before the broken wall of the ruined temple.

Zhao Tiezhu leaned against the broken wall, the spear shaft still stuck in his right rib, blood seeping from the arrow stub in his left shoulder. He was soaked from head to toe in blood, but his eyes were still open. The arc of his mouth, smeared with blood, trembled twice the moment he saw Chen Yan.

"Pillar... Pillar of State..."

Chen Yan vaulted off his horse, walked in long strides to Zhao Tiezhu, crouched down, and supported him from the broken wall with both hands.

Zhao Tiezhu's body trembled violently the moment he was supported. The spear shaft in his right rib hit the edge of the broken wall, twisting his entire face in pain, but he gritted his teeth and made no sound.

His voice was so hoarse it was nothing but the sound of air rubbing against vocal cords, every word carrying a heavy scent of blood.

"Pillar of State, your subordinate is incompetent, losing six brothers..."

Chen Yan's palm pressed onto his shoulder, the force not heavy, but steady as a mountain.

"You held the badge; you did not disgrace me."

The things churning in Zhao Tiezhu's eyes finally rolled down after those words landed, mixing with the blood on his face and flowing into his armor collar.

Chen Yan patted his shoulder twice, his voice dropping by half, low enough that only the two of them could hear, but every word carried a weight that set Zhao Tiezhu on fire from head to toe.

"The rest, I will kill for you—kill until they are terrified to the bone."

Zhao Tiezhu's right fist wanted to smash against the badge on his chest, but his arm lost strength halfway, and he leaned forward, his forehead resting on Chen Yan's shoulder armor.

Chen Yan did not push him away, letting him lean for three breaths, then handed him to the military physician who had followed up.

He stood up, turned his head, and his gaze fell on the three brothers not far away who had already stopped breathing.

Lao Zhou lay on his back on the gravel, his left hand still clutching the gash in his abdomen, his right hand gripping the horizontal blade tightly, a grinning smile frozen on his face.

Liu San lay in the gravel pile, his broken left arm still maintaining the posture of holding the bandit's waist; the two corpses were intertwined, impossible to separate.

Xiao Chen crouched in the corner of the broken wall, his short blade stuck in the chest of a bandit in front of him. Three arrows were stuck in his own back, his body leaning against the wall as if he were asleep.

Chen Yan walked to Lao Zhou's corpse, crouched down, and gently took the horizontal blade with the curled edge from his right hand.

He looked at the blade for three breaths.

Then he stood up and handed the horizontal blade to Gao Jiong beside him.

"Lao Zhou's wife is still carrying a child. Record it. When the child is born, send them to the Lecture Hall."

Gao Jiong took the horizontal blade, his voice pressed to the bottom.

"Your subordinate has recorded it."

Chen Yan's gaze withdrew from the three corpses, the hem of his cloak fluttering in the night wind.

He said nothing more.

Gao Jiong led the Mingjing Si mounted cavalry to disperse, searching carefully on the gravel ground paved with bandit corpses, not letting go of every inch of armor plate and every weapon on every corpse.

His sinister eyes turned extremely fast in the firelight, his fingers flipping open one bandit's armor after another, checking the scabbards at their waists, the hidden weapons in their boot shafts, not even letting go of the lining beneath the saddles.

Half a stick of incense later, Gao Jiong stood up from beside a bandit's corpse, holding a horizontal blade in his hand.

The blade of this horizontal blade was two inches longer than the curved blades used by ordinary bandits, and the thickness of the blade spine was a fraction thicker. The unique folded forging pattern on the blade reflected a dense, wavy dark pattern in the firelight.

There was an area on the hilt that had been repeatedly polished by a file; the mark originally carved there had been ground down until only a shallow indentation remained, but the shape of the indentation could still identify the general outline.

Gao Jiong handed the horizontal blade to Chen Yan with both hands, his voice pressed low enough that only three people could hear, every word squeezed out one by one from between his teeth.

"Pillar of State, the folded forging technique of this blade is twelve-layer folding. Only two Weaponry Bureaus in the entire Northwest Seven Prefectures can strike out this many layers."

Chen Yan took the horizontal blade, his fingers slowly stroking the area on the hilt where the mark had been ground away.

Gao Jiong's voice dropped another two levels.

"One is the Xia Prefecture Weaponry Bureau, the other is the Sui Prefecture Weaponry Bureau."

He extended his finger to the copper hoop at the bottom of the hilt, his fingernail digging into the gap between the copper hoop and the wooden hilt, prying gently. The copper hoop loosened by half, revealing an extremely tiny mark beneath.

That mark was the right half of the character "Sui."

"Pillar of State, this is a fine steel blade that just came out of the Sui Prefecture Weaponry Bureau last month. The folding layers and quenching technique of the blade are the top-tier military standard. Mere horse bandits couldn't afford such good goods."

Gao Jiong pressed the copper hoop back, his finger tracing a line across the blade.

"Your subordinate also found horizontal blades of the same craftsmanship on seven other bandit corpses. All marks were ground off, but the forging patterns cannot be faked."

Chen Yan flipped the horizontal blade in his hand, the firelight shining on the dense wavy dark pattern on the blade, reflecting a cold light.

His voice was as flat as a stagnant pool.

"Anything else?"

Gao Jiong pulled a palm-sized leather pouch from his bosom. The pouch was tied with a tendon rope. He untied the rope and poured out a few copper coins and a piece of iron the size of a thumb.

A wolf head pattern was carved on the front of the iron piece, and three horizontal bars were carved on the back.

"This was searched from the lining of the bandit leader's boot shaft. Your subordinate's hidden agent has been active in the Sui Prefecture territory for two years and has seen this iron plaque."

He flipped the iron plaque to the front, his finger pointing at the wolf head pattern.

"This is the token of the Blood Wolf Head, the largest horse bandit nest in the Black Wind Pass area. As for the relationship between the Blood Wolf Head leader and the Sui Prefecture Governor's Office, your subordinate has investigated for a full year."

His voice turned cold to a temperature that made one's spine tighten on the last sentence.

"Zhao Chongde gives the Blood Wolf Head three thousand sets of military repeating crossbows and five thousand taels of gold every year. The Blood Wolf Head clears all disobedient merchant caravans and messengers on the Sui Prefecture official road for him. The two sides have cooperated for at least six years."

Chen Yan took the iron plaque from Gao Jiong's hand and weighed it twice in his palm. The iron piece made an extremely slight metallic clinking sound in his palm.

His gaze lifted from the iron plaque, crossing the towering cliffs on both sides of the canyon, and fell on the wilderness swallowed by the night to the east.

That direction was Sui Prefecture.

Ye Zhuxi rode to his side, the long spear held vertically on the left side of the saddle, a wisp of blood not wiped clean still hanging from the tip. Her voice was steady but carried a trace of imperceptible coldness.

"Pillar of State, should we lead the troops to strike directly at Sui Prefecture now?"

Chen Yan tucked the iron plaque into his sleeve, his finger tapping lightly on the hilt of the horizontal blade.

"No rush."

Ye Zhuxi's brow twitched.

Chen Yan turned around, looked at Zhao Tiezhu, who was having his wounds bandaged by the physician, and then looked at the three brothers' corpses covered by white cloth, the arc of his mouth slowly curving up.

That arc was not a smile.

It was something that made even Ye Zhuxi feel the surrounding temperature dropping rapidly.

"Zhao Chongde thinks dead men don't talk, thinks that by grinding off the marks, he can't be traced."

He tucked the horizontal blade back into the scabbard at his waist, his palm slapping the hilt, making a dull metallic clink.

"Since he wants to play dirty, I will accompany him in a grand performance."

He vaulted onto his horse, the reins turning half a circle in his hand, the black horse's front hooves pawing the gravel twice.

"Gao Jiong, write down what happened tonight in a secret report and send it back to Lingzhou to A Ze, letting him know that Zhao Chongde of Sui Prefecture has torn off his mask."

Gao Jiong hammered his fist against his chest armor.

"Your subordinate accepts the order."

Chen Yan's gaze withdrew from the night to the east of the canyon and fell on Ye Zhuxi's face.

"Zhuxi, take Zhao Tiezhu and the wounded and retreat to Lingzhou to recover first."

Ye Zhuxi's voice was half a beat faster.

"And you, Pillar of State?"

Chen Yan's finger traced an arc on the reins, his voice as light as the sound of the night wind brushing against a blade.

"I will take one hundred Death Guards and enter Sui Prefecture according to the original plan."

Ye Zhuxi's brow furrowed.

"Pillar of State, since Zhao Chongde has already formed the intent to kill, you taking one hundred people in..."

Chen Yan tilted his head and looked at her. The things churning in those eyes, reflected in the firelight, burned with two dark fires that one dared not look at directly.

"He killed six of my brothers; I will collect this debt personally."

His finger tapped the hilt of the horizontal blade one last time, his voice carrying something that lowered the temperature of the entire canyon by three degrees.

"And I want him to nail his own coffin lid shut with his own hands, without knowing that I have already obtained the evidence."

The night wind blew in from the canyon entrance, making the hem of his cloak flutter loudly.

The distant horizon was still pitch black, but at the end of the darkness, in the direction of Sui Prefecture, a lone star was slowly rising.

Chen Yan's gaze fell on that lone star, the arc of his mouth deepening by another two levels.

At this very moment, in the secret chamber of the Sui Prefecture Governor's Office, Zhao Chongde was leaning on a tiger-skin chair, holding a cup of hot tea, a satisfied smile hanging on his mouth.

He was still waiting for the reply from the Blood Wolf Head.

He still thought the corpses of those ten political commissars had already rotted in the gravel pile at Black Wind Pass. ===== CHAPTER 852 =====