Chapter 606: Beacon Fires of the Northern Border

Within Chen dynasty territory.

South of the Yin Mountains.

Edge of the Hetao Plain.

The wind and snow are far fiercer than on the Luoyang side.

Goose-feather-like snowflakes are swept up by the gale, lashing sideways at the face like knives.

Heaven and earth are a chaotic grayish-white.

Only the battlefield's color is a striking red and black.

Twenty li outside Zhenbei Pass.

The first line of defense.

The defensive position, built relying on a few small hills and abandoned earth forts, has now become a hellish battlefield.

Corpses lie piled in layers.

Most wear the crimson battle jackets of the Chen dynasty border troops.

A minority are dressed in mismatched leather robes and various felt hats, the steppe cavalry.

Blood splatters on the snow, quickly freezing into dark-red ice shells.

The air reeks of heavy blood, gunpowder smoke, and… a faint, strange odor like iron rust mixed with rotting grass.

"Hold fast!"

"Crossbow cannon! Load the flammable oil tanks!"

"Fire!"

The hoarse shouts come in broken bursts amid the wind and snow.

On a half-collapsed earthen wall.

The remaining thirty-plus Chen dynasty border troops, relying on broken walls and ruins, are using bows, crossbows, spears, and even stones to block the enemy surging in like a tide.

The enemy are too many.

It seems they cannot be killed off.

They ride steeds taller and more ferocious than ordinary steppe horses.

They wear leather armor mixed with bone plates, dark in hue.

They wield sabers, bone spurs, and lassos.

Their eyes show no fear, only a near‑numb fanaticism.

Even more terrifying is their tactics.

They observe no formation.

Just wave after wave of charges.

Using the horses' speed and the men's daring, they slam head‑on into the defense line.

Even if those in front are pierced by crossbow bolts or speared down,

those behind will unhesitatingly trample over their comrades' corpses to keep charging.

"These madmen… aren't they afraid of death?"

A young border troop crossbowman, his fingers stiff and trembling from the cold and repeated cocking of the crossbow, his voice choked with tears.

"Who knows!"

Beside him, a soldier whose face is smeared with blood spits out a bloody mouthful.

"But do you want to die? If you don't want to die, then shoot for me!"

The old soldier roars, firing his last crossbow bolt hard, piercing the throat of an enemy cavalryman trying to climb over the earthen wall.

That cavalryman clutches his neck and falls, his eyes still fixed straight ahead on the other side of the wall.

It sends a chill down to the bone.

The defense line is already tottering on the brink of collapse.

Arrows are about to run out.

Rolling logs and stones have long been exhausted.

Less than half of those who can still stand and wield weapons remain.

"Colonel! We can't hold! Fall back!"

Someone cries out in despair.

The colonel in charge of this outpost has a deep gash on his left arm from a saber, down to the bone, the makeshift bandage already soaked through with blood.

He leans against the earthen wall, breathing heavily, watching the black mass of enemy cavalry still surging outside.

His eyes waver.

Withdraw?

Where to withdraw to?

Behind him is open ground; retreating in the face of cavalry is tantamount to suicide.

Not withdraw?

If everyone dies here, it merely buys a little more time.

Just as he is about to give the order to fight to the death,

Woooo—

A low, desolate horn call comes from behind the defense line.

It is not the enemy's horn.

It is the Chen dynasty army's command!

"Reinforcements?!"

The colonel's spirit lifted, and he struggled to poke his head out.

All he saw was the wind and snow filling the rear.

A black, silent thin line was rapidly thickening.

That was cavalry.

The Chen dynasty's cavalry!

Uniform black iron armor.

Tall Hequ warhorses.

A large flag bearing the character "Chen" fluttered, as well as a more conspicuous banner bearing the character "Shi".

The leading general was stalwart as a mountain, helmetless, revealing a young face with sharp angles and a short beard.

His gaze was calm, yet it harbored a volcano-like fury.

He was precisely the Bei Jing Commander who had ridden north in emergency—Shi Dun.

"It's Commander Shi!"

"The Commander has arrived!"

The surviving garrison burst into a cheer of having survived the catastrophe, despite their weak voices.

Shi Dun led the charge on horseback, even without slowing down.

He held a heavy lance in his hand.

The lance's tip flashed with a faint light in the wind and snow.

Facing the surging tide of steppe cavalry rushing forward.

His face was expressionless.

He simply leveled his lance.

The three thousand iron cavalry behind him simultaneously leveled their spears.

Like a moving forest of steel.

There was no shouting.

Only the growing roar and denser pounding of iron hooves striking the earth.

Then.

He charged into it!

Boom!

A dull, heart-stopping impact sound exploded in the wind and snow.

A clash of steel and flesh.

Shi Dun's lance was like the grim reaper's scythe.

Each thrust took at least one enemy rider's life.

His strength was astonishing.

Often, after piercing an enemy with his lance, he could fling the corpse forward with undiminished force, slamming it into those behind.

Among the five ministers, Shi Dun was perhaps not the most skillful.

But he was absolutely the best at frontal assaults, the best at overcoming skill with strength.

His fighting style was simple, brutal, and effective.

Three thousand well-rested, well-equipped Chen dynasty elite iron cavalry.

They faced the steppe vanguard cavalry that had repeatedly charged the lines and suffered considerable loss.

The result was almost a crushing victory.

Especially the five hundred personal guard 'Iron Mountain Cavalry' that Shi Dun personally led as the vanguard were unsurpassed in bravery.

They worked in perfect unison, like a red-hot branding iron fiercely driven deep into the enemy formation, then twisting left and right.

The momentum of the steppe cavalry's charge was forcibly checked.

Then.

It was torn apart.

It was routed.

In the wind and snow, the cries of men, the neighing of horses, the breaking of weapons, and the shattering of bones filled the ears without cease.

The battle lasted less than half an hour.

When Shi Dun, with a single lance strike, knocked off his horse an enemy commander who clearly looked like a leader, wearing an ornate bone helmet, and shattered his chest.

The remaining steppe cavalry finally lost the will to continue fighting.

They retreated like a receding tide.

They left behind a field littered with corpses and wounded.

Shi Dun gave no order to pursue.

He reined in his warhorse, the lance tip pointing to the ground, dripping thick blood.

His gaze swept over this bloody battlefield, over the fallen soldiers' corpses, and over the distant enemy banners faintly visible in the wind and snow.

His complexion showed no trace of joy at victory.

Only a deeper solemnity.

"How are the casualties?" he asked the deputy commander at his side.

"The Iron Mountain Cavalry lost twenty-seven killed, forty-one seriously wounded, and over a hundred lightly wounded."

"Ordinary cavalry casualties number about three hundred."

"The troops of the first line of defense……" the deputy commander's voice low, "Three hundred twenty stationed, survivors…… forty-one, all wounded."

Shi Dun gripped the spear tightly, his knuckles whitening.

The first line of defense held for only a day and a half.

It was almost total annihilation.

But the enemy's cost was far below his estimate.

"These steppe barbarians are off." the deputy commander whispered, "Too fierce, too reckless, and…… they don't seem to fear our crossbow bolts or lances much. Some, even after taking a mortal wound, can still lunge and bite."

Shi Dun said nothing.

He dismounted and walked over to a relatively intact enemy cavalry corpse.

He crouched down.

He tore open the strange hide armor.

Revealing the bluish-black, extraordinarily muscular body beneath.

On the corpse's arm was a twisted wolf-head tattoo inked in some black pigment.

And at the center of the wolf-head pattern, beneath the skin, there seemed to be an extremely tiny, dark red protrusion.

It didn't look like a natural mole or wart.

Shi Dun drew his dagger and carefully pried it out.

It was a grain‑sized irregular dark‑red crystal, smaller than a grain of rice.

The crystal, amidst the wind and snow, faintly emitted an extremely weak heat.

Moreover, Shi Dun keenly felt that as his finger approached, the Yin‑Detection Mirror in his bosom gave off a slight, continuous tremor.

His face changed.

"Quick!"

"Collect all enemy corpses, especially the leaders and those who look especially fierce!"

"Check them for these crystals!"

The orders were passed down swiftly.

Soon, several enemy corpses specially selected were brought over.

There were ordinary cavalrymen as well as minor officers.

Shi Dun personally examined them.

The result was shocking.

Over sixty percent of the corpses bore similar small crystals.

The locations varied—some on the arms, some on the back of the neck, some even near the heart in the chest.

The crystals varied slightly in size and shade.

Without exception, they all triggered a response from the Yin‑Detection Mirror.

"What……" the deputy commander's face turned pale.

"The Iron Crow Army's methods." Shi Dun's voice icy.

He recalled the secret report from Old Zhao describing "catalysis" and "yin‑energy infusion."

These crystals were likely forcibly implanted to stimulate human potential, even to control the mind—a "key" or "fuel."

No wonder these enemy troops were so fearless of death.

No wonder their combat power rose so noticeably.

This was no longer an ordinary foe.

This was a manufactured war machine.

"Commander!"

A messenger rode in at full gallop, his face stricken with panic.

"Urgent message from Lady Wang Ru!"

Shi Dun took the small copper tube sealed with wax, crushed it, and pulled out the silk slip inside.

It bore a single line, in Lady Wang Ru's distinctive neat hand:

"Deep in the enemy rear camp, traces of suspected 'Yin‑Shade' activity have been found; numbers unknown, extremely dangerous—remain vigilant."

"Yin‑Shade!"

"The Iron Crow Army's elite combat unit!"

"They're mixed among the enemy forces?!"

Shi Dun snapped his head up, gazing into the wind‑swept distance where the enemy main force was entrenched.

"His eyes were sharp as a hawk's."

"Order the entire army."

"Abandon the first and second outer defensive lines."

"Gather the troops and retreat ten li before Zhenbei Pass, relying on the prepared fortifications to hold."

"No one may launch an attack without my order."

"Furthermore…"

He paused, then spoke each word deliberately.

"Notify the artificers of the Heavenly Works Institute stationed with the army."

"Activate all Demon‑Subduing Crossbows and Soul‑Stabilizing Bells."

"The real hard fight……"

"has probably only just begun."

The wind and snow grew fiercer.

The bloodiness and clamor of slaughter on the battlefield were gradually muffled.

But that chilling aura, a mix of iron rust and rotting grass, permeating the air,

yet it grew ever stronger.

Like some huge and ominous shadow,

It was slowly enveloping the whole Bei Jing.