Chapter 127: Death and Injury

"Ten thousand victories!"

Amid a burst of cheers, the Qin army's jet-black banner was planted atop the arrow tower on the western wall of Outer Huang. Under the concentrated volleys of bows and heavy crossbows, the tower bristled with arrow shafts, as if it had suddenly sprouted countless feathers.

Hei Fu and his men were just as scarred and battered as that arrow tower, yet everyone's spirits ran high. Paying no heed to the pain of their wounds, they raised their weapons high and exulted in their victory at seizing the ramparts.

It turned out that just moments before, as the platoon Hei Fu belonged to scaled the wall and secured a foothold, they had deployed long weapons in front and powerful crossbows behind, tenaciously holding the battlement where the bamboo ladders were fixed, allowing the follow-up troops to climb up one after another.

The black-robed Qin soldiers on the wall grew more and more numerous, reversing the tide of the assault and defense.

The main force defending the city consisted of the wandering swordsmen kept by the Prefect of Outer Huang. These men had no specialized military training and fought only on momentary courage, with no discipline. They were fine in single combat, but when it came to this kind of siege warfare, once they fell into a disadvantage, they found it hard to hold on. The Qin men's ferocious assault, like tigers charging up a mountain, put immense pressure on them, and the wandering swordsmen gradually began to falter.

The temporarily conscripted laborers of Outer Huang were even more so; they could only wave flags and shout, fighting only when the tide was in their favor.

As the Qin soldiers slowly pressed forward across the ramparts, their unstoppable momentum made many of the less resolute swordsmen and laborers begin to dodge and retreat. Watching the number of casualties mount, the Qin army seemed to become death incarnate, pressing down on them step by step and snapping the taut strings of their nerves.

One after another, the defenders began to turn and flee. With no real escape route, they simply jumped straight down from the three-zhang-high wall. Some accidentally twisted and broke their ankles, but most scrambled to their feet at once and kept running.

At that moment, Wei reinforcements rushing over from the south of the city arrived, several hundred strong. They had intended to drive the Qin soldiers off the wall, but the first thing they saw was their panic-stricken comrades frantically leaping from the wall and fleeing in their direction, which gave them a great shock.

Unclear about the situation on the western ramparts and seeing the scene before them, they assumed the wall had already collapsed into rout. The instinct for survival robbed them of the courage to keep dying for their master. First one, then ten, then a hundred — more and more wandering swordsmen stopped fighting and began a disorderly flight into the city.

Among them, the one who ran the fastest and earliest was that thick-bearded wandering swordsman who had locked eyes with Hei Fu the moment he climbed onto the wall.

Hei Fu remembered he was around thirty-odd years old, with disheveled hair tied in a knot, wearing a short-backed tunic and carrying a two-chi sword — the typical attire of a roving swordsman. When he had seen Hei Fu scaling the wall, the swordsman had raised his blade in a defensive stance, and Hei Fu had even guarded against him cautiously.

Who could have guessed that this big fellow would suddenly shout, "Protect Lord Zhang!" and then, swift as flying, dart through the chaotic battlefield on the wall and vanish without a trace. The movement was so practiced, as if he had rehearsed it countless times in his mind, that Hei Fu was left staring dumbfounded...

He was probably the very first wandering swordsman to jump from the ramparts and flee, setting an example for all those who came after.

Only after the battle ended did Hei Fu learn that Zhang Er, the Prefect of Outer Huang, had been on the southern ramparts the whole time!

Hei Fu was instantly speechless.

So, how should one judge that thick-bearded, handsome wandering swordsman? Call him cowardly, yet he had clearly held the wall for a long time and even killed a Qin soldier from the first-ascent platoon.

Call him brave, yet the moment he saw things going badly, he immediately turned tail and ran, shouting that kind of slogan as he went. Anyone listening would have thought he was truly going to protect his lord.

"A clever man, but that style of his is truly shameless enough." Hei Fu could only sum it up that way in the end.

Hei Fu quickly tossed that wandering swordsman to the back of his mind. Once the fighting had paused, he began checking the casualties in his own platoon.

On the city wall, just after the fierce battle, the slightly damp morning air was thick with the heavy stench of blood, a hint of smoky char, and even the smell of excrement and urine — losing control of one's bowels in terror was common on the battlefield. The three odors mingled together, making one want to retch at the first whiff...

Hei Fu, however, did not vomit. From morning until now, he had witnessed death plenty: his sword had hacked off two arms and lopped off one head. The blade was already notched, with residual blood on it that could not be wiped dry.

Not counting the winning battle at Chenliu, this was Hei Fu's first true taste of the brutality of ancient warfare. There was no surge of hot-blooded passion, only some shock, but more than that, numbness and lingering fear.

Fortunately, his luck was decent; he had only suffered some scrapes and flesh wounds in the fight, nothing serious.

But those Qin soldiers who had been the first to scale the wall were not so fortunate.

The platoon leader of the first-ascent platoon had, against all odds, not died. He was leaning against the parapet now, eyes shut weakly. Aside from numerous blade wounds large and small all over his body, a sharp arrow had pierced straight through his left palm, leaving a mangled, bloody hole. Yet his right hand still gripped his sword tightly, as if he could continue fighting.

Although the casualties among this platoon leader's men were devastating — fewer than ten of the fifty remained — military law was relatively lenient toward these "wall-breaching first-ascent warriors." It stipulated that as long as their platoon was the first to scale the wall in the siege and killed ten men, it would be considered "full merit." All fifty men would be promoted one rank in nobility, and the ranks of those who died in battle could be inherited by their descendants...

This was why, despite knowing the mortal danger, people were repeatedly willing to become wall-breaching first-ascent warriors. The greater the risk, the greater the reward. For a Qin family, trading one person's life to win a noble rank for their children and grandchildren was undoubtedly worth it.

Military merit nobility was not the achievement of one person in a moment, but the enterprise of one clan for three generations.

Hei Fu valued his life and naturally would not choose such a tragically fierce method of advancement. But he respected the wall-breaching warriors. After bowing with clasped hands to that platoon leader, he had his own platoon's men help collect the bodies.

As it happened, his own platoon's casualties were not small either. Ji Ying, Li Xian, and others were all wounded, but only lightly. What worried Hei Fu most was still Dongmen Bao.

Earlier, relying on his thick armor, that fellow had been the first to mount the wall and had practically fought ten men alone, rendering great service in the subsequent capture of the western wall. But after the battle, Hei Fu found he could not locate him...

"He couldn't have died in the fight, could he?" Ji Ying, who usually did not get along with Dongmen Bao, was now extremely flustered and quickly looked toward the corpses on the wall.

By now, the narrow rampart was clogged with bodies lying every which way — Wei wandering swordsmen and laborers, as well as Qin soldiers. The sight was horrifying at a glance. Coupled with the weapons discarded haphazardly, it was nearly impossible to move on the wall. Hei Fu had to pick his way along the rampart with difficulty, turning over the prone corpses one by one, examining the blood-mangled faces one by one.

"A-Bao, A-Bao... here!" In the end, it was Xiao Tao who shouted. Hei Fu and the others rushed over and could not help but be stunned.

Dongmen Bao was lying in a pile of bodies. When they pulled him out, they saw his whole body was soaked through with fresh blood, his leather armor tattered and ruined.

Hei Fu urgently called for Ji Ying and Gong Ao to move the corpses aside together and drag Dongmen Bao out. Feeling for a pulse — thank goodness, he still had breath!

Hei Fu immediately had Bu Cheng come look at Dongmen Bao, because Bu Cheng had once said he knew a bit of medicine...

After a hasty examination, Bu Cheng, his forehead beaded with sweat, told Hei Fu that Dongmen Bao's thigh had been slashed open by a dagger-axe, and his back, shoulders, and arms bore seven or eight wounds. Blood was continuously seeping out, nearly dyeing him a man of blood!

"He must be sent to the camp quickly for a medic to treat, or his life will be hard to save!"

The moment Bu Cheng said this, the faces of the men from Huyang Village who were close to Dongmen Bao all changed color.

"Is there still time to send him to the southern camp? Didn't you boast that you not only know divination but also medicine?!" Hei Fu's expression shifted and he grabbed Bu Cheng by the collar.

"I only learned a bit of shamanic healing and recognize some herbs. I can't treat military metal-inflicted wounds — that requires a dedicated wound surgeon!" Bu Cheng hurriedly explained, but Hei Fu had no time to listen to his nonsense.

He shoved Bu Cheng aside and rolled up his sleeves. "Then I'll do it myself!"

Bu Cheng muttered, "Platoon Leader, this is your first time as a conscript — do you know how to treat metal wounds? You can't be reckless about this. Better to carry him down from the wall first."

"Shut up!"

Of course Hei Fu knew how. In his previous life at the police academy, he had at least learned some battlefield emergency aid. So he knew that Dongmen Bao was showing symptoms of massive hemorrhage, with some blood vessels already damaged. It had to be treated immediately, absolutely could not be delayed! Otherwise, his life would be in danger!

Although Dongmen Bao was brash by nature, he was brave in battle and valued brotherhood. From Huyang Village to the army, he had always been Hei Fu's right-hand man.

What was more, back home, he still had an elderly mother, a new wife, and a young child waiting for their father to return in glory. For these past months, the thing Dongmen Bao talked about every day was that "son" of his whom he had never met...

So no matter what, Hei Fu had to quickly recall the battlefield emergency aid he had nearly forgotten. He absolutely had to save Dongmen Bao's life!

He took a deep breath and instructed Ji Ying and the others: "You lot, take off your belts, now!"

(End of chapter)