Chapter 627

The first quarter of the Yin hour.

The west gate of Luoyang opened again silently.

What surged in was not enemy troops.

but a cavalry unit exhausted to the point of collapse, drenched in blood, with their horses blowing heavy white vapor.

They numbered five hundred when they set out.

They returned fewer than three hundred.

And almost everyone was wounded.

The loss of warhorses was even greater.

Lin Chong was helped down from his horse by two personal guards, his left arm hanging unnaturally, blood seeping through the gaps of his armor plates, a fresh arrow graze on his face with the flesh turned over.

But his eyes remained sharp, even carrying a lingering trace of killing intent and excitement.

"How?" Yue Fei had already been waiting inside the city gate opening, his gaze quickly sweeping over the returning cavalry.

"We burned three supply piles; judging by the look, they were components of siege towers and battering rams." Lin Chong's voice was hoarse, panting, "We killed at least two hundred of the Yuan night guards, some of them tough, like their elite scout cavalry, the Red Army."

He paused, then spat out a mouthful of saliva mixed with blood.

"But just as we succeeded, their reaction was too fast. Vast troops of cavalry poured out from both flanks instantly, not fewer than us, with better armor and equipment, and fine horses. It was as if they had been waiting for us."

"We fought while retreating, pressed hard. We lost nearly half our brothers before shaking off the pursuers and circling back through the western woods."

After Lin Chong finished speaking, he looked at Yue Fei and added, "My lord, the Yuan army's camp layout is meticulous, their vigilance strict. To try such a sneak attack again would be difficult. Moreover… their cavalry is truly fierce."

Yue Fei nodded silently.

The night raid achieved partial success, delaying the assembly progress of the Yuan army's siege equipment and probing part of their strength and reaction speed.

But the cost was not small.

More importantly, the information Lin Chong brought back confirmed his judgment.

The Yuan army is not a brute-force enemy.

They are disciplined, react swiftly, have tight defenses, and possess strong combat power.

Next, it will be a hard clash of attrition in attack and defense.

For the defending forces, who are at an absolute disadvantage in troop numbers,

attrition is deadly.

"Take the wounded brothers down for proper treatment." Yue Fei told Lin Chong, "You also go bind your wounds, rest as soon as possible. I will hold the walls first."

Lin Chong did not put on a brave front, nodded, and left supported by his personal guards.

Yue Fei climbed onto the city wall.

On the eastern horizon, a line of fish-belly white had already appeared.

A new day.

It was also the first day of the Yuan army's main force formally launching the assault.

The Chen hour.

In the Yuan army camp on the north bank, war drums sounded again.

Denser and heavier than yesterday.

Accompanied by the drumming, large bodies of Yuan infantry in formation, carrying hastily built though crude but long enough siege towers assembled overnight, pushing shield carts covered with raw oxhide, under the cover of archers and the trebuchets not completely destroyed yesterday, began a full-scale river crossing.

This time, they were no longer probing.

but a genuine all-out assault.

The river was not deep, its shallowest reaches only up to waist‑chest.

Yuan infantry waded across, their speed not fast, yet they advanced steadily.

"Catapult bolts! Concentrated fire on the river‑crossing crowd!"

"Bed crossbows! Shoot the shield carts!"

"Archers and crossbowmen, free fire! Suppress the enemy archers!"

The orders were given.

The defenders on the city top opened fire with full force.

Stone bolts, crossbow bolts, and arrows poured down like a violent storm, pouring onto the river surface and the beachhead.

Yuan soldiers kept falling to arrows, swept away by the river water.

The shield carts were pierced through by heavy crossbow bolts, the soldiers behind screaming as they were exposed to the arrow rain.

On the river surface, blooms of murky blood blossomed.

But the Yuan forces were too many.

Their formation was also very loose.

Those in front fell, and those behind stepped over their comrades' corpses or simply shoved them aside, continuing forward.

Their archers also desperately shot back from the north bank at the defenders on the wall.

Although shooting uphill was disadvantageous, the dense arrow rain still inflicted some casualties and suppression on the defenders on the wall.

From time to time a defender was hit by an arrow and fell, quickly dragged down the wall by laborers.

From the very start, the battle entered a white‑hot phase of attrition.

Around noon.

The first wave of Yuan infantry finally trudged through the icy river water and landed on the southern beachhead.

They quickly relied on the shield carts and makeshift works, forming themselves into small combat groups.

More siege towers were erected.

They began to launch an ant‑like swarm assault on the not especially high northern wall of Luoyang.

Rolling logs! Stone blocks! Throw them down!

Molten gold! Is it boiled? Pour it!

Spearmen! Thrust down those who have climbed up!

Along the city wall, officers' hoarse shouts mixed with soldiers' cries, the wounded's wails, the clash of blades, and the sound of heavy objects falling.

Together they formed a grim, stirring symphony of the city's defense.

Yue Fei himself stood near the most dangerous north gate tower, commanding.

He continuously issued orders, adjusted troop numbers, and blocked the breaches.

The sword in his hand was already drawn, its blade stained with blood.

He personally slew two Yuan soldiers who dared climb the battlements.

Fresh blood spattered his armor and face, warm and salty.

The battle lasted from morning until afternoon.

Dusk fell again.

The Yuan army's attack came like waves—one not yet subsided, another already rising.

They seemed completely indifferent to casualties.

When the front troops were shattered, fresh formations immediately stepped forward.

They maintained relentless pressure on the walls.

The defenders' strength and will were undergoing a severe test.

Arrows were running low.

Rolling logs and stone blocks were running low.

Fire oil and molten gold were not inexhaustible.

More importantly, the soldiers' fatigue and casualties were steadily increasing.

Yue Fei could clearly feel that the tense, vigorous momentum on the walls was gradually being worn down.

Like a blade constantly ground by a whetstone.

Though still sharp, it inevitably waned.

At sunset.

The Yuan army finally sounded the retreat.

Under the blood‑red sunset.

From the north bank shore to the wall's base, corpses lay strewn, broken halberds and spears littered the ground.

The river water glowed an eerie dark red.

Many battlements on the wall were damaged, its face pitted with arrow marks and stone impacts.

The air reeked of blood, smoke, and death.

The defenders silently watched the enemy withdraw like a receding tide to the north bank.

No one cheered.

Only numbness after survival and a bone‑deep weariness remained.

The count was quickly reported.

One day of fierce battle.

The defenders suffered over eight hundred dead, more than three hundred seriously wounded, and countless lightly wounded.

Arrows were depleted by nearly thirty percent.

Defense supplies consumption was enormous.

And the Yuan army's casualties were several times that.

But no one felt optimistic.

Because everyone saw it.

The Yuan army's camp on the north bank remained huge.

Cooking smoke remained dense.

And on our side…

"How many more days can we hold?" Wu Yong walked up to Yue Fei's side, his voice low, filled with worry.

Yue Fei did not answer immediately.

He gazed at the campfires on the north bank.

He then looked up at the sky.

"Issue the order."

His voice was hoarse, yet carried an unshakable resolve.

"Repair the walls overnight, reinforce the weak points."

"Take stock of all remaining supplies and allocate them according to the worst-case scenario."

"Register the fallen soldiers, compile the list, and properly bury them."

"Treat the wounded with all efforts."

"Inform all the soldiers and civilians in the city."

"Luoyang is still in our hands."

"The Northward Aspiration remains unextinguished."

"Yes."

The orders were passed down.

The exhausted soldiers and laborers sprang into action again.

For survival.

For the belief represented by that banner.

They must persevere.

Even if the price is to bleed dry.

Meanwhile.

Chen Dynasty.

Outside Zhenbei Pass.

The night was equally dark.

Chen Wen stood on the wall, gazing into the darkness of the northern plains.

The great victory at Wild Fox Ridge had passed several days.

The Northern Yuan army retreated thirty li and set up camp, unusually quiet.

There was no retaliatory counterattack.

Nor any signs of large-scale mobilization.

This abnormal calm only tightened the string in Chen Wen's heart even more.

He could feel it.

At the core of the Northern Yuan camp, that unusually conspicuous energy point had not weakened at all.

Instead, it continued to contract and condense.

As if it were brewing something.

From Zhao Lao Nian's side, there was still no signal.

The "blue smoke" had not risen.

The directional transmission insect remained still.

Had it run into trouble?

Or had it already...

Chen Wen suppressed a hint of anxiety in his heart.

He had to trust in Zhao Lao Nian's ability.

He also had to stabilize the situation before him.

The system growth bar, after the Wild Fox Ridge battle, had reached the brink of overflow.

It only needed one opportunity.

He could sense it.

That opportunity would not be far off.

Perhaps it would come in the Northern Yuan's next move.

Perhaps it would come in...

He once again turned his gaze to the northwest.

Toward the Old Wind Pass.

The night stretched vast and dark.

Nothing could be seen.

Only the cold wind howled.

It brought from deep within the distant grasslands.

A faint, almost imperceptible.

An uneasy whisper.