Chapter 872: Three hundred blades, and the ghosts and gods are startled

Chen Yan's hand gripped the hilt of the horizontal blade, his knuckles bulging with veins from the excessive force.

He looked at the pine stake snapped into two pieces, his lips trembling slightly, his voice rolling out from the deepest part of his throat.

"How many more do you have?"

Gao Jiong stood with his hands behind his back, his chin tilted toward the direction of the large cart at the rear of the convoy.

"Three hundred."

Chen Yan's Adam's apple rolled twice.

He turned his head to glance at Amu Ri and the other generals behind him.

Amu Ri was also clutching a horizontal blade, his two hands rubbing back and forth over the blade, his finger shrinking back when it touched the edge, a bead of blood seeping from his fingertip.

"Leader, this blade can cut through ox-hide armor."

Amu Ri put his bleeding finger into his mouth to suck on it, his voice trembling.

"It bleeds at the slightest touch; if the curved blades of those people from the Helan Clan hit this thing, the iron pieces would shatter."

A centurion nearby named Tu Hai pulled another horizontal blade from the cart board, weighed it in his hand, and his eyes went straight.

"Leader, with these three hundred blades in hand, even if all the people from the Helan Clan came out, we could hack our way from start to finish."

Chen Yan did not respond.

He turned his head back to look at Gao Jiong, the fanaticism in his eyes suppressed by another layer of something—a vigilance that grew from the marrow of his bones.

"You give me three hundred Central Plains military blades; what exactly are you plotting?"

Gao Jiong picked up a piece of dried meat from the cart board beside him, tore off a strip, and chewed it in his mouth, chewing three times before speaking.

"What this official is plotting, I already told the leader yesterday."

Chen Yan's voice was lowered to a level only the two of them could hear.

"The Helan Clan's pasture."

Gao Jiong nodded.

"The Helan Clan's pasture belongs to you; what this official wants is an obedient friend."

Chen Yan's hand gripping the horizontal blade tightened by a fraction.

"Obedient?"

Gao Jiong swallowed the chewed dried meat and clapped the crumbs off his hands.

"Leader, don't overthink it; this official isn't asking you to kneel to anyone, nor asking you to pay taxes to anyone."

His voice sank by two degrees.

"This official only needs you to be quiet when you should be quiet, and to bite when you should bite."

Chen Yan stared at him.

"Bite whom?"

Gao Jiong reached out and patted the cart board of the large cart filled with horizontal blades.

"This question, let's discuss it after the leader takes the Helan Clan's pasture."

He turned around, his gaze sweeping across the open space between the tents.

"Right now, what the leader needs to worry about is how to win tonight's battle."

Chen Yan's mouth opened slightly, the words stuck between his teeth.

Amu Ri leaned in from behind, his voice unable to be suppressed.

"Leader, with three hundred such horizontal blades in hand, what is there that we cannot win?"

Chen Yan turned his head to look at him.

"Amu Ri, do you think having blades alone is enough?"

Amu Ri was stunned for a moment.

Chen Yan tucked the horizontal blade into his waist, his voice carrying the astringency ground out by three days of hunger and humiliation.

"The Helan Clan has one thousand elite cavalry, plus the young and strong herdsmen, at the very least three thousand people can mount horses. Although the White Disaster injured some of them, their foundation is much thicker than ours."

He extended his right hand, his five fingers counting one by one in the cold wind.

"It is true that our three hundred men have new blades, but what are the things in the hands of the remaining two thousand young and strong men? Chipped old curved blades, wooden spears with broken tips, some don't even have iron pieces, tying sheep bones to sticks to use as hammers..."

His fist clenched.

"Fighting head-on, half of us will die."

It was quiet in front of the tent for three breaths.

Gao Jiong's voice came from behind.

"So, we don't fight head-on."

Chen Yan turned around.

Gao Jiong was already squatting on the snowy ground, his boot tip drawing line after line on the ground.

"Leader, come over."

Chen Yan walked over and squatted opposite him.

Gao Jiong pulled the thin wooden board from his boot shaft and placed it between the two of them, face up.

"The layout of the Helan Clan's camp, this official had already figured out before coming."

His index finger pointed to a square mark on the wooden board.

"This is the Helan Clan leader's large tent, located in the middle of the camp, slightly to the north, surrounded by fifty personal guards guarding in rotations."

His finger moved half an inch to the left.

"This is the granary tent, three large tents connected together, storing all the food and fodder for the Helan Clan to survive the winter."

His finger slid to the right again.

"This is the stable area, warhorses and stallions are all tied in this area; after the White Disaster, the number is unclear, but there are at least four or five hundred that can still run."

Chen Yan's eyeballs rolled twice on the wooden board.

"How many times have you been to the Helan Clan?"

Gao Jiong flipped the wooden board to the back, which was drawn with densely packed sentinel distribution points.

"Three times."

He raised his head and glanced at Chen Yan.

"The first time to deliver wine, I drank all night with the sentinel chief, and he spilled all the sentinel positions."

"The second time to deliver salt, I became familiar with the old man in charge of grain, and I saw clearly which way the granary tent door opened and how many gaps were in the tent walls."

"The third time to deliver tea leaves, I entered the periphery of the leader's large tent, and I remember the steps and positions clearly."

Chen Yan's breathing became heavy.

"You have been preparing for a long time."

Gao Jiong placed the wooden board back on the ground.

"This official does things, and never fights a battle without a plan."

His index finger drew three routes on the wooden board.

"Tonight, divide the troops into three routes."

Chen Yan stared at the three lines.

Gao Jiong's voice sank by half.

"The first route, the leader personally leads one hundred men, all carrying new horizontal blades, sneaking in from the sheep path on the north side of the camp, and heading straight for the leader's large tent."

His finger pressed on the large tent mark.

"The Helan Clan leader is named Wu Da, in his early fifties, he could fight when he was young, but now he is fat and his legs are lame. Half of the fifty personal guards around him suffered frostbite on their hands and feet during the White Disaster, and their combat power is discounted."

"As long as the leader rushes into the large tent and takes Wu Da's head, the Helan Clan will have no backbone."

Chen Yan's mouth pursed slightly.

"What about the second route?"

Gao Jiong's finger slid to the position of the granary tent.

"Amu Ri leads one hundred men, with enough fuel oil cans, detour from the southwest corner of the camp, and burn the granary first."

Amu Ri poked his head out from behind.

"Where does the fuel oil come from?"

Gao Jiong tilted his chin toward the direction of the seventh cart in the convoy.

"This official brought eight jars of fuel oil from the Central Plains, originally for self-defense."

He glanced at Amu Ri.

"Once the granary is burned, the herdsmen's hearts will be in chaos; no one will risk their lives for a tribe that has lost both its leader and its food."

Chen Yan's finger tapped on the ground.

"The third route?"

Gao Jiong drew a circle on the east side of the camp.

"Fifty men carrying the remaining torches and dried cow dung cakes, creating a commotion on the east side of the camp, lighting fires and releasing smoke, blowing horns and drumming, making the Helan Clan think they are under attack from three sides, unable to figure out how many people have come."

He stood up and patted the snow on his knees.

"In White Disaster weather, visibility in the wind and snow is less than ten steps. The Helan Clan's sentinels are huddled behind the tents to avoid the wind in this ghostly weather, unable to see anything beyond two zhang."

"All of us wrap ourselves in white felt, wrap our faces in white cloth, and only show our blades when we reach their tents."

His gaze swept across the Chen Yan Clan generals present.

"Withdraw after the fight, don't linger, don't chase, and retreat after getting Wu Da's head and the granary."

"The remaining Helan herdsmen will have no leader, no food, and the heavy snow will block the road; they will either surrender or freeze to death on the spot."

Tu Hai slapped his thigh.

"Good strategy."

Amu Ri gripped the horizontal blade, his voice pulling up an inch.

"Leader, let's fight. I've never touched such a good blade in my life. Tonight, let me take it to burn the Helan Clan's granary; I can kill twenty people by myself."

Chen Yan stood on the snowy ground, the hilt of the horizontal blade in his hand sweated from his grip.

The sound of children crying came from the tent side, thin and weak, crushed intermittently by the wind and snow.

He lowered his head to look at the frozen mud ground under his feet, silent for more than ten breaths.

"Distribute the blades."

When these two words were squeezed out of his mouth, the voice was not loud, but everyone around heard it clearly.

Amu Ri was the first to turn and run toward the convoy.

Tu Hai followed closely and rushed over.

Three hundred horizontal blades were pulled out one by one from the iron frame and passed to the three hundred selected Chen Yan Clan warriors.

Those who received the blades pressed the blade body against their cheeks, the cold steel against the frost-cracked skin. A young herdsman lowered his head to look at his own thin face reflected on the blade edge, his lips trembling, not knowing if it was from the cold or something else.

Someone tested the blade on the snowy ground, hacking a horizontal blade onto a frozen wooden board, the board split from the middle, and fragments flew two steps away.

A gasp sounded nearby.

"This blade is a gift from the Eternal Blue Sky."

An old soldier with frostbitten face held the horizontal blade, his voice hoarse as if it were about to break.

Chen Yan stood in the middle of the crowd, his voice covering the sound of the wind.

"Eat your fill tonight, boil all the remaining horse meat and millet, and set off after eating."

"Eat as much as you can; tomorrow's meal is in the Helan Clan's granary."

A low roar erupted from the crowd.

"Eat theirs!"

"Kill them!"

"Rob them!"

Gao Jiong stood beside the convoy, watching the Chen Yan Clan camp turn from an ice cave waiting to die into a powder keg about to explode in just half an hour.

Songqi squatted beside him, his voice lowered to a level only the two of them could hear.

"Boss, these people's eyes are red; the Helan Clan is in for it tonight."

Gao Jiong took out the Mingjing Si iron plaque from his sleeve and turned it half a circle between his fingers.

"Whether their eyes are red or not is not what this official cares about."

He tucked the iron plaque back.

"What this official cares about is, after this blade falls, how the Rouran Khan Nuhe Ti's Royal Court will react."

Songqi scratched his scar.

"The Royal Court will definitely suppress it."

Gao Jiong's fingers tapped on his knees three times.

"Suppression requires drawing troops from other tribes, and drawing troops will make more tribes dissatisfied."

He raised his head and looked at the sky.

A dull sound of wind came from the northwest, and the black curtain on the horizon became a layer thicker.

"Tonight's blizzard will be even bigger."

"Bigger is good."

He stood up.

"Songqi, take ten people and scatter to the crossroads on the south and southeast of the Helan Clan camp, blocking the retreat."

Songqi tilted his head.

"Block whom?"

Gao Jiong's voice cooled by half.

"Block the living."

"It doesn't matter if the Helan Clan herdsmen run; the herdsmen don't know where the blades came from."

"But if there are armored generals or people sent by the Royal Court running out, don't let them live to go south."

Songqi grinned, and the scar twisted along with it.

"Understood."

After dusk, the sky darkened layer by layer.

The blizzard increased by two levels before nightfall, the crushed ice particles hitting the ox-hide surface of the tents so densely that it made one's scalp numb, and the sound of the wind turned into a continuous howl.

The bonfires in the Chen Yan Clan camp were all extinguished by the wind, with only a few faint cow oil lamp lights showing through the gaps in the tents.

Three hundred death warriors who received the horizontal blades gathered in the darkness.

Each person was wrapped in white ox-hide felt strips cut from old tents, their faces wrapped in white cloth strips, revealing only two eyes.

Two thousand young and strong men followed behind, holding various old weapons, some picking up frozen cow leg bones to use as hammers, the bones still stained with frozen meat that hadn't been scraped clean.

Chen Yan stood at the exit of the camp.

Wrapped in white felt, the horizontal blade tucked at his waist, one corner of the white cloth on his face was blown up by the wind, revealing the frost-cracked skin on his chin.

He turned his head and glanced at the camp.

The tents were crooked in the blizzard, and one was flipped over by the wind while he was turning his head, the woman in the tent holding her child and screaming, the sound crushed by the wind.

Chen Yan's fist squeezed on the hilt of the horizontal blade.

He turned his head back and stepped into the wind and snow.

The three teams separated rapidly after leaving the camp for two hundred steps.

Amu Ri led one hundred men and eight jars of fuel oil to turn southwest, his figure swallowed by the white wind and snow within a few breaths.

Tu Hai led fifty men and everything that could be lit to detour to the east, his footsteps making a cracking sound on the frozen snow surface.

Chen Yan led the main force to advance toward the Helan Clan along the low hill ridge line on the north, more than two thousand people lined up in a long snake-shaped column, moving silently in the blizzard.

Gao Jiong stood on a high slope on the east side of the Chen Yan Clan camp, the collar of his fur coat turned up to block half of his face.

The wind and snow pulled up an airtight white curtain in front of him.

He could no longer see Chen Yan's team.

And he didn't need to see them.

Songqi and ten hidden agents had already scattered into the crossroads on the south of the Helan Clan camp.

Gao Jiong still had thirty-nine people left beside him, divided into six groups squatting behind the depressions and rocks on both sides of the high slope, crossbows strung, daggers against their wrists.

The sound of the wind howled endlessly in his ears.

Gao Jiong took out the copper pot from his bosom, unscrewed the lid, and took a sip of burning knife liquor, the liquor pouring down his throat, turning into a ball of heat in his stomach.

He handed the copper pot to the hidden agent beside him.

"Share it, don't let your fingers freeze."

The hidden agent took the copper pot.

Gao Jiong's gaze passed through the wind and snow and looked toward the direction of the Helan Clan camp.

Nothing could be seen in that direction, only boundless white, the wind and snow rolling into one vortex after another in the darkness.

His lips moved slightly.

"Helan Clan."

The voice shattered in the wind.

He pushed the sleeve of his fur coat up by half an inch, the metal firing lever of the sleeve crossbow against the inside of his wrist, cold and piercing.

In the distance, in the direction that could not be seen, the wind and snow swallowed all sounds.

But Gao Jiong knew that the snake-shaped column was crossing the ridge of the last low hill.

The Helan Clan's sentinels were still huddled behind the tents roasting fire.

They didn't know.

In the darkness, more than two thousand blades had already forced their way to their doorstep. ===== CHAPTER 873 =====