Chapter 135: Deploying at Gaoping

The darkness before dawn finally faded.

The sky light spread like icy floodwaters over the vast land.

It also outlined the menacing silhouettes of the two massive armies on the Gaoping plains in sharp detail.

The killing intent condensed, solid as substance.

The Zhou army's great formation followed the terrain, banners like a forest.

In the morning's cold wind they rustled loudly.

Under the central army's great banner.

Chai Rong, in gold armor and dark robes, stood with hand on sword, his gaze like torches, scanning the whole battlefield.

His figure, like a divine needle calming the sea, steadied the hearts of the entire army.

On the left and right wings, generals such as Zhang Yongde and Han Tong each commanded their troops, standing in strict readiness.

The Jing'an Army led by Chen Wen, meanwhile, lay like a crouching tiger to the left-rear of the central army's main formation.

It served as the final reserve and the strongest bulwark guarding the central army's flanks.

Before them, the great formation of the Northern Han–Khitan allied forces spread across the sky and earth.

Especially the Khitan cavalry's vast, mountain‑covering formation exuded a primal, heart‑pounding oppression.

The neighing of warhorses and the clashing of armor.

And the faint shouts carried on the air, tinged with foreign accents.

Wove together into a savage war song.

Chen Wen sat his horse before the Jing'an Army's lines, his gaze slowly sweeping over the lads under his command.

After a night of final adjustments and reinforcement, the Jing'an Army's formation appeared more solid and layered.

At the very front were three layers of movable cheval de frise and scattered iron caltrops.

Behind them stood Shi Dun's vanguard heavy infantry, armor dense, spears like a forest.

On the flanks were dense ranks of archers and crossbowmen, arrows nocked, points glinting coldly.

Further back were the main battle troops commanded in coordination by Zhang Cheng and Wang Ru, together with the various auxiliary devices overseen by Zhao Dayan.

The entire army lay hushed and silent, save for the rustle of battle flags blowing in the wind.

And the occasional impatient snort of warhorses.

A mixture of tension and exhilaration!

Even a trace of fear, like an invisible thin mist, permeated the ranks.

This is the instinctive reaction to facing an unknown bloody battle.

Chen Wen knew he needed to say something.

Not a lofty lecture, but words that could resonate with these comrades about to give their lives.

He gently squeezed his horse's belly, rode slowly before the lines, his voice not loud.

Yet it carried clearly into every soldier's ear, bearing a strange power of comfort and encouragement.

"Brothers!"

He spoke, his gaze sweeping over faces both young and weathered.

"Look ahead!"

He pointed his whip toward the enemy's vast formation, especially those fierce Khitan cavalry.

"Look at those Northern Han troops, those Khitan people!"

"What gives them the right to stand here and flaunt their might against us?"

"Is it because their blades are swift? Because their horses are strong?"

He paused, then his voice suddenly rose.

With an irrepressible resentment and resolve:

"No! They rely on our past weakness!"

"They rely on the decades of chaos and compromise!"

"They think the blood of our Han sons has run dry, our spines broken!"

"They think this Central Plain ought to be their hunting ground for riding roughshod, burning, killing, and looting!"

A few sentences, like a stone tossed into a calm lake, instantly stirred ripples upon ripples.

Many soldiers' breathing grew heavy, their eyes beginning to blaze with anger.

Many of them had lost kin to rebel armies, their hometowns razed by war.

Their hatred of the barbarian horsemen had long taken root in the marrow.

"But!"

Chen Wen's voice rang like metal striking metal, decisive and unyielding.

"Today we stand here!"

"Behind us are the prefect, Chan Prefecture, and countless folk awaiting peace!"

"Under our feet lies Gaoping, the national gate we cannot retreat another step from!"

He suddenly drew his waist sword, the bright blade pointing to the heavens; sunlight struck it, flashing a blinding glare.

"I, Chen Wen, refuse to believe this! I refuse to believe our Han sons' spirit has vanished thus!"

"I refuse to believe the swords in our hands cannot sever the barbarians' horse legs!"

"I refuse to believe the breath in our hearts cannot uphold an age of peace and prosperity!"

His gaze turned razor‑sharp, as if it could pierce every heart:

"From Jiao Tu Zhen to now, how many comrades have we lost along the way? How much blood and sweat have we shed?"

"We're not here today to hide like turtles, nor to stretch our necks for slaughter!"

"It's to tell those who think we're easy to bully—"

He almost roared it out, the sound wave like thunder rolling over the military formation:

"We! Not to be messed with!"

"Boom!"

The pent-up emotions were instantly ignited!

All the Jing'an Army soldiers felt a surge of hot blood rushing straight to their heads?

All tension and fear, at this moment, were washed clean by these simple and brutal words!

They waved their weapons, exerting all their strength to let out a roar:

"Kill! Kill! Kill!"

The sound wave was like a tsunami, soaring into the sky.

Even briefly overwhelming the clamor in the opposing allied army's formation!

Even Chai Rong, under the Central Army's Great Banner, glanced sideways slightly.

Looking this way, a fleeting hint of approval, hard to notice, flashed in his eyes.

Shi Dun's eyes were blood-red, like an angry bear, he fiercely hammered his chest armor.

Wang Ru gripped her sword tightly, her knuckles whitening from the force, yet her gaze was unwaveringly firm.

Zhang Cheng, Qian Gui, Zhao Dayan…

Every person of the Jing'an Army had their chest heaving violently.

A fierce spirit of mutual hatred and sworn to fight to the death surged vigorously from the military formation!

Just at this moment, when everyone was united and morale had climbed to its peak.

Chen Wen clearly felt that the originally active Fortune Momentum vortex in his sea of consciousness, like fire poured with boiling oil, surged violently!

The vortex spun at an unprecedented speed, wildly, its volume expanding, its hue becoming deeper and more radiant.

As if it bore the entire Jing'an Army's belief and will!

It surged and churned violently, like an awakened giant dragon, yearning to roar, yearning to break free of its bonds!

This power was so immense that it even made Chen Wen feel a slight tremor.

He could feel that thin, cicada-wing-like membrane blocking his entry into the next stage.

Under the impact of this majestic Fortune Momentum, it was emitting a lament unable to bear the burden.

【Personal Ability Multiplier: Lv. 4 (16x)】

【Growth Progress Bar: 99%】

【Fortune Momentum vortex: surging violently, boiling, scale and condensation reaching an unprecedented peak!】

Chen Wen took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the nearly uncontrollable surging feeling in his sea of consciousness.

He sheathed his saber, looked over the brothers willing to follow him to death, and his voice returned to calm.

Yet it carried an indisputable force:

"Remember, we are here today not to be ennobled and granted titles, but only to tell the world—"

"Those who invade our territory shall be executed!"

"Kill—!"

In response, came a more violent, more uniform roar, shaking the four fields, the spirit rushing to the heavens!

Also at that moment, from the opposing allied army's formation, came the deep sound of the ox horn.

Like a summons from hell, it sounded desolate and prolonged.

The great war, the curtain rises!