Chapter 508: The Battle for Luoyang Amid the Morning Bells

Mada did indeed have ten thousand men, and most of them were Khitans. Jurchen and Balhae troops made up only a very small part, so their fighting strength was well assured.

By all rights, under the weight of his ten thousand elite soldiers, the three thousand Heyang troops and the fifty or sixty thousand people of Luoyang should not have been able to stir up any trouble at all.

But in reality, Mada's ten thousand men were nowhere near enough to hold down the entire city of Luoyang.

Because they not only had to guard Luoyang, they also had to hold Heyang — the later Mengzhou in Henan.

This city was about a hundred li from Luoyang, on the bank of the Yellow River north of the city.

The key reason it had to be held was that the Heyang Bridge — the largest of the three great pontoon bridges then spanning the Yellow River — was located there.

The Heyang Bridge was of the utmost importance to the Khitans in Luoyang and indeed throughout the Central Plains.

For even though Yelu Deguang had made himself Son of Heaven of the Central Plains on his own say-so, most Khitans still did not believe they could hold the Central Plains for long.

Or rather, even if they could hold it for long, what they were thinking of was going home as soon as possible and leaving this place to the Han folk to govern.

Compared with the cool, comfortable lands of western Liao and the Bashang grasslands, Kaifeng and Luoyang in the Central Plains were, without a doubt, unbearably hot in summer.

And who, having seized gold, silver, and beautiful women, would not want to carry them home to enjoy and show off?

Even a hamster likes to pack up its favorite treats and carry them home; the Khitans were largely of the same mind.

So they paid particular attention to how they would get back from the south bank of the Yellow River to the north bank.

At this time they had only two choices: the Heyang Bridge north of Luoyang, and the Baima Ford at Huazhou, northeast of Kaifeng.

And they had plundered so much wealth and goods — much of it heavy and bulky — that they needed a convenient and labor-saving means of transport.

Going from Kaifeng by the Bian River to Luoyang, then crossing the Heyang Bridge — or not crossing it at all and simply following the Yellow River downstream to find a landing place — was far less trouble than traveling overland to Huazhou and then crossing the river.

Moreover, the Heyang Bridge did not span directly from one bank of the Yellow River to the other; it made full use of the great sandbar in the Luoyang stretch of the river — the later Guojiatan in the Yellow River.

The bridge ran first from Heyang on the north bank to the sandbar, then from the sandbar to the south bank. This greatly reduced the difficulty of crossing the pontoon bridge and increased its load capacity and safety.

And on this sandbar, the military stronghold of Zhongtan City, built in the Eastern Wei period, could still serve its purpose, commanding both ends of the pontoon bridge and blocking ships coming from upstream.

If Mada did not hold the Heyang Bridge and Zhongtan City, Zhang Zhao could sail straight downstream, ignore Luoyang entirely, go directly to Huazhou, and destroy the pontoon bridge at Baima Ford, cutting the Yellow River's north and south banks apart.

Then the Liao troops in the lands south of the Yellow River would be completely done for.

So Mada divided the Liao troops in Luoyang, stationing fifteen hundred men each in Zhongtan City and Heyang City, with five hundred Heyang troops attached to each to help keep watch.

But because Zhongtan City and Heyang City offered little in the way of spoils, Mada could not make any unit stay garrisoned there for long; they could only rotate the garrison duty.

And today was the day the Khitans rotated their garrison. According to regulations, the troops in the city had to reach Zhongtan and Heyang first, and only then could the troops stationed in those two cities set out and return to Luoyang.

This was mainly to avoid both sides setting out at the same time, which would leave the two cities momentarily unguarded.

But this also meant that at the moment of rotation, the Liao troops in Luoyang were at their weakest.

With six thousand troops out of the city, only four thousand remained inside — so this was the best time to rise up.

Heyang was about a hundred li from Luoyang, so the rotation would take at least an hour and a half to complete.

Zhao Hui, Zhao Yanjin, and Zhao Kuangyin conferred and decided that all of Luoyang would rise up suddenly while the Khitans were rotating their garrison.

And when they saw fire rise in the city, Murong Xinzhang would immediately lead his elite cavalry at full gallop.

One thousand of those riders would enter the city to aid the people of Luoyang, while the other two thousand would ambush the three thousand Khitans returning from the rotation, taking Luoyang in one stroke.

At dawn, under the covert watch of countless eyes, the three thousand Khitan cavalrymen rotating out of the city began to ride out in noisy disorder.

At the beginning of the chen hour — seven in the morning — after the Khitan cavalry had been gone for an estimated two ke, a bell suddenly rang out.

First the White Horse Temple northeast of the city, then its sister temple, the White Cloud Temple, then the Great Fuxian Temple, Guanghua Temple, Xuanzang Temple, Xiangshan Temple, Zangmei Temple, and so on — until at last nearly every Buddhist temple in Luoyang was sounding its great bell.

For a time, the sound of morning bells rang through the whole of Luoyang.

Mada, who was living directly in the Later Tang imperial palace in Luoyang, had drunk a dou of wine early in the morning. Now, slightly tipsy, he looked up at the sky in bewilderment.

Hadn't the chen hour already passed? They didn't ring then, so why were they ringing on and on now?

"Kill you, you thieving caitiff!"

Suddenly, right beside Mada, a man sprang up with a great shout, swung the leg of mutton in his hand, and smashed it hard at Mada's head.

Mada was caught off guard and took the hard mutton bone square on the head. With a sharp crack, he staggered about, dazed and reeling.

Well... who would wear a helmet just to eat a roast leg of mutton? And so Mada had been struck a solid blow.

Still, he was a veteran commander, and the guards around him were no pushovers. The cook tried to strike a second time, but the Khitans nearby quickly pinned him down, and a flurry of punches and kicks beat him until he spat blood.

Mada came back to his senses, and in a towering rage he strode forward.

"I have treated you well enough — given you food and drink, spared your parents! Why attack me?"

Mada was no fool. Since he coveted the cook's skill at roasting mutton legs, he was bound to have given him some favorable treatment.

Though the cook had little chance to poison him, what if he slipped in some "secret sauce"?

So Mada had spared the cook's whole family, and even gave them food and drink.

In Mada's eyes, that was a tremendous act of mercy, so he was furious, thinking the cook did not know what was good for him and had actually tried to attack him.

The cook grinned, blood seeping between his lips and teeth, a trace of unwillingness hidden in his eyes.

"I only hate that I could not kill you with my own hands, you thieving caitiff! To avenge Brother Zhou!"

"You want to kill me? I'll kill you first, you treacherous Han dog!" In his fury, Mada gripped his long blade and drove it hard into the cook's chest.

Yet in the cook's eyes, amid the pain, there was a flicker of satisfaction. Mada, his head now clearing from its daze, felt a chill run through his whole body, and he let out a wild shout.

"Not good! The Han folk are rising up!"

Mada was right — the people of Luoyang were about to rise. These Khitans had left everyone with no way to live, and now they wanted to treat their families as two-legged sheep. Who could endure that?

Who could watch their own beloved wife and young children become another man's meal?

Amid the echoing bells, the men of every household came pouring out of houses, wineshops, and shops, clutching clubs, planks, broken swords and spears, and farm tools.

Everyone had tied a strip of cloth around their forehead as a headband — that was the mark that distinguished Han from barbarian.

In the east of the city, a Khitan cavalryman had just come out of a wineshop, clearly having drunk quite a bit.

Before he could steady himself, an old man wielding a great club rushed forward and felled him with one blow. Then the surrounding people swarmed over him and beat him into pulp.

In the west of the city, a squad of ten Khitan cavalrymen had just finished patrolling a lane when, in an instant, stones and clubs rained down from above.

The Khitan cavalry were battered dizzy, and before they could react, they were surrounded by the surging crowd of commoners.

They did not flinch from blades or spears — even when stabbed, they still came howling and lunging forward.

The terrified Khitan cavalrymen tried to spur their warhorses, but it was too late. Countless great hands dragged them down from their mounts, and after that, not even their bones remained.

A wealthy merchant in the south of the city had had his great mansion seized by the Khitans, and his wife and daughters seized as well. He had been lying by the roadside waiting to die, a living corpse.

But now, as if suddenly brought back to life, he led the commoners who had once cursed him as a rich man without virtue in through the secret water channel of his great mansion.

Amid the mountain-roaring, sea-surging fury of the crowd, the wealthy merchant gripped a long dagger and with his own hands hacked the Khitan officer who had seized his wife and daughters into minced flesh.

North of the city, close to the Khitan camp, the oppression was deepest. The commoners, together with the suddenly risen Heyang Army soldiers and the warrior monks of the various temples, charged furiously at the Khitan camp.

Countless people carried door planks and, howling, hurled their flesh-and-blood bodies forward to open a path for the Heyang Army.

Battle cries shook the heavens, and not a single person shrank back.

Amid the howls of "Kill the barbarian raiders! Kill the barbarian raiders!", one Liao army checkpoint after another was overrun, and the caught-off-guard Khitans were slaughtered until blood flowed like a river.

At last, the city-wide uprising, amid the ceaseless tolling of bells, pressed forward to the surroundings of the imperial palace. Of the four thousand Khitans remaining in Luoyang, at least three thousand were here.

Mada was gritting his back teeth, watching the dense crowd outside the imperial city, about to throw open the palace gates and charge out to kill.

The young general at his side hurriedly dissuaded him. "The Han folk outside the city are many and fierce. We are few but elite — it would be better to hold the city first!"

Mada slowly shook his head. "This uprising of the Han folk is clearly signaled by the temple bells. If no one had planned it, those few old soldiers of the Heyang Army would never have had the ability to contact all the great Buddhist temples. This must be that villain Zhang's men, arrived here."

As he spoke, Mada stamped his foot in hatred. "Back then I bitterly urged the Emperor — what need was there for Datong City? The right course was to march the whole army west and kill that villain Zhang. A pity the Emperor would not listen."

The young general beside him lost all color in his face. Suddenly, as if remembering something, he let out a great cry.

"We must quickly scatter the Han folk outside! The men in Zhongchan City and Heyang City do not yet know that the city has fallen into revolt.

If I were the vanguard of that villain Zhang, I would first go and ambush the three thousand riders returning from guard rotation. That way they could trap us in the city and butcher us at will."

"You will immediately lead fifty riders. After I personally lead the main force to open a path, charge out of the city and deliver the message!"

Seeing that the young general at his side understood his meaning, Mada gave the order at once.

"Haul earth and stone, gather great timbers and bind them with hemp rope into chevaux-de-frise. Give all the armor to the strong and brave. The northern barbarian cavalry are coming to charge and kill — those who can shoot bows, take the high ground."

Zhao Hui's battle-formation experience was still very rich, and with the two fierce generals Zhao Yanjin and Zhao Kuangzan at his side, they did not blindly charge up to assault the imperial palace.

Though there were at least ten thousand people behind them, and the number was still growing, the only ones who could be called professional soldiers were the several hundred Heyang Army men inside the city — far from a match for the Khitans. At least, assaulting the imperial palace would absolutely be a road to death.

So they gathered outside the imperial palace, blocking the road by which the Khitans could leave the imperial city, and waited for Murong Xinzhang's three thousand elite cavalry to arrive. This was the correct choice.

"My lord, go organize the commoners to set out all their household goods and objects at hundred-pace intervals to block the roads. If your son cannot hold, we will have to rely on you."

Zhao Hongyin looked at Zhao Kuangyin's concerned gaze and firmly shook his head.

"There will be others behind to take command. You and I, father and son, have already staked everything — if we die, we die together. If every man retreats, how can we hold back the Khitan iron cavalry?"

Zhao Kuangyin was stunned for a moment, as if seeing his father for the first time, then nodded fiercely.

The gates of the surviving Later Tang imperial palace in Luoyang slowly opened, and the Khitan cavalry led by Mada slowly rode out.

Though in later ages the Liao army would be mocked as powerless in sieges and shameless in retreat — a grand steppe iron cavalry that could only fight the Song dynasty's convict soldiers to a draw.

But at this moment, the Liao iron cavalry of Yelu Deguang's era still had some real ability.

Mada used five hundred Xi archers as the vanguard, with cavalry riding out from both wings. They did not forcibly crash into the barricades Zhao Hui had set with earth, stone, and wooden stakes, but first shot with bows.

The Heyang Army had only two thousand men in Luoyang, of whom those who could be counted as yabing guards totaled no more than six or seven hundred.

Facing the concentrated volleys of five hundred Xi archers and several hundred Khitan archers, they could only take cover behind the obstacles while returning fire, and their effectiveness dropped greatly.

The rest of the commoners had been arranged further back. They wore no armor at all, and facing the rain of arrows, they were even easier to kill and wound.

In fact, even the Heyang Army had little armor, because most of it had been taken away by the elite troops on campaign, and the remainder had been stored in the armory. After the Khitans entered the city, nearly all of it had been confiscated.

The armor they now had was all family heirlooms of the various army officers; ordinary soldiers rarely had armor.

Amid the sky-filling rain of arrows, the Xi infantry quickly cut off the Heyang Army from the Luoyang commoners. The several hundred Heyang Army men were pushed to the very front, and behind them were the Luoyang commoners holding all manner of weapons, even farm tools.

Mada sneered and lightly waved his hand. The Khitan cavalry, which had been moving back and forth on either side of the Xi infantry, immediately charged out.

They slanted in from left and right, preparing to completely surround the Heyang Army.

Once these several hundred Heyang soldiers were killed, the commoners might number ten thousand, but they would be nothing more than pigs and sheep awaiting slaughter.

The earth trembled as sixteen hundred cavalry came galloping. The Luoyang commoners, who had rarely seen such a formation, immediately panicked. Once their blood cooled, some of the more timid even turned and began to run.

Seeing this, a Khitan cavalryman could not help but laugh cruelly, and his saber waved even more arrogantly. In just twenty more paces, the Han folk before him would have their heads parted from their bodies.

The Heyang Army's crossbowmen shot their arrows with desperate effort, continuously knocking Khitan cavalrymen from their horses.

But they had too few crossbowmen. The Khitan cavalry numbered a full sixteen hundred, and more cavalry and Xi infantry were still pressing forward. This small amount of killing could not have much effect.

Soon, the six hundred-odd Heyang Army men were completely surrounded. The Khitans only needed to finish off these few hundred men, and then they could turn back and slaughter the Luoyang commoners behind them.

"Kill the barbarians!" At that very moment, Zhao Kuangyin let out a thunderous roar, and in an instant, the Luoyang commoners who had seemed cowering and shrinking suddenly erupted.

They drew long spears and long hengdao sabers, and to the Khitans' surprise, charged at the Khitan cavalry surrounding the Heyang Army with extreme speed.

Spears stabbed the riders, blades pierced the horses' bellies. Zhao Kuangyin charged at the very front, his long spear thrusting out like a venomous dragon, and a Khitan cavalryman fell at the sound.

He did not bother whether that Khitan cavalryman lived or died. Gripping the spear with both hands, he continued charging into the enemy formation.

On his left and right, Zhao Yanjin and his father Zhao Hongyin pressed close to him. The three of them — one thrusting while another blocked, one blocking while another thrust — coordinated with extraordinary perfection, and straight through the Khitan cavalry, whose speed had already dropped, they stabbed open a bloody path.

The Luoyang commoners behind them roared and charged up together.

It turned out these were no ordinary commoners at all, but the warrior monks of the various temples and the finest of the city's ruffians and scoundrels — men who had practiced martial arts year-round and whose courage was strong.

This charge numbered more than fifteen hundred. Once Zhao Kuangyin and his two companions had cut a bloody path and split the Liao cavalry, these men immediately gripped their long spears and massed together like hedgehogs.

In the gaps, more than two hundred stout warrior monks, wielding great staves capped with iron at both ends, struck outward from every direction.

What these great monks were best at was staffplay. The great staves were made of the hardest wood wrapped in iron sheeting, and under the monks' years of practice, their power was no less than that of tempered copper rods.

Often a single blow would either snap a horse's leg or break a rider's shin, making the rider howl in agony and the warhorse whinny in pain.

Cavalry needs speed above all. Once their speed dropped, the Luoyang commoners who had seemed to be scattering in all directions, called on by the village elders and ward heads, also summoned their courage and came charging in like an overwhelming tide.

What a joke — if they did not fight with their lives now, the Khitans would devour their beloved wives and young children. Who could endure that?

Moreover, the Prince of Yong had promised that if they won this battle, the nine counties within the Luoyang capital region would go untaxed for three years. It was said the Heavenly King was the only benevolent lord under heaven willing to take in disaster refugees — then it would truly be an age of peace and prosperity.

The fury of vengeance, combined with longing for a better life ahead, drove the fighting spirit of Luoyang's people to its peak.

A father struck down by arrows shouted furiously at his son, telling him not to mind him and to hurry up and kill the barbarians.

An elder brother, blood pouring from his mouth and barely clinging to life, also cried out for his younger brother to avenge his blood debt.

Sixteen hundred Liao cavalrymen were instantly swallowed up in a vast sea of over ten thousand people. All of Luoyang, soldiers and civilians as one, none shrinking back, and the Khitan soon could no longer hold.

Zhao Kuangyin even snatched up a great club and charged straight into the formation of Xi archers, sending these Xi men, armed only with short blades, fleeing in utter disarray.

Watching one rider after another fall from the saddle, Mada's cheeks twitched. But an instant later, a cruel light blazed in his eyes.

For he still held five hundred half-armored cavalry in reserve, and the enemy had now fallen into a chaotic melee — they could never withstand a charge by five hundred half-armored horsemen.

"Thud-thud! Thud! Thud!"

Mada looked up in astonishment. His five hundred half-armored cavalry had not yet moved — where could such perfectly uniform hoofbeats be coming from?

Under the gaze of ten thousand eyes, Wang Shenqi appeared on the battlefield in white cloth-faced iron armor, a white war cloak over his shoulders, a silver hood on his head, astride a white warhorse — man and mount like a dragon. Behind him rode a dozen riders dressed exactly as he was.

The moment he reached the battlefield, Wang Shenqi loosed arrows left and right from the saddle. The nearest Khitan cavalrymen toppled to the ground one after another as bowstrings sang.

A Great Tang Three Stars banner flew high, and in the distance, cavalry stretching beyond sight came rushing forward.

The people of Luoyang parted to clear the road, their cheers rolling like thunder.

"The Prince of Yong's great army is here! The Prince of Yong's great army is here!"

Mada swayed, waved a hand in despair, then turned and fled toward the imperial city. The Yong Kingdom's iron cavalry had come too fast — he did not know whether he could still hold out.

Murong Xinzhang did not enter the city. He personally led two thousand cavalry straight toward Jinyong Fortress, northeast of Luoyang.

Although Jinyong Fortress had gradually fallen into disuse after the Zhenguan era of the Great Tang, it remained the key route from the Heyang Bridge to Luoyang. Murong Xinzhang prepared to intercept the Khitan cavalry returning from their rotation here.

As if Heaven delighted in arranging coincidences, when Murong Xinzhang's two thousand riders had galloped to within less than five li of Jinyong Fortress, the walls already in sight, a body of cavalry flying dragon-and-phoenix banners appeared on the horizon.

It was Gao Song, arriving with the elite iron cavalry of the Dragon Army and Phoenix Army of the Liao Kingdom's Pishi Army.

Murong Xinzhang had considered the possibility that the Liao might send iron cavalry as reinforcements, so he had long been mentally prepared.

And although Gao Song was startled, he too had prepared himself mentally and likewise showed no panic.

"Zhang Xibao, take a hundred riders and see who it is that has come."

"Gao Zhangzi, go take a look — has that bandit Zhang's Yong-Liang cavalry arrived?"

Both men reacted at the same moment. After all, they were still several li apart, and they needed to confirm exactly who the other side was.

Zhang Xibao took fifty elite Tuyuhun riders and scattered outward like stars filling the sky.

The Khitan cavalry opposite did much the same — groups of three to five riders forming combat teams, putting on the appearance of a vast host as they advanced.

The distinctive river-pattern cloth-faced armor, the highly recognizable double-layered Hexi helmet — Gao Zhangzi let out a great shout.

"It is the Yong-Liang cavalry indeed! Raise the red flag and notify the Supervisor!"

Typical Liao leather robes, banners painted with dragons and phoenixes, gaudy and flashy.

Zhang Xibao did not hesitate. He reached into his robe and pulled out a length of pear-blossom gun poison-smoke powder, then with a hiss, sprayed it toward the enemy.

Of course it could not reach anyone — this was to notify Murong Xinzhang.

Smoke signals were far more convenient than raising flags, so Murong Xinzhang received the message much faster than Gao Song.

He shouted back over his shoulder, "Light cavalry, move out at once and disperse for mounted archery! Heavy cavalry, don armor and follow my command banner!"

The Yong Kingdom's cavalry now called half-armored riders "fierce cavalry," and light cavalry wearing only a small amount of chest armor "swift cavalry."

Under Murong Xinzhang's orders, twelve hundred swift cavalry split into three directions and galloped toward the Khitan cavalry opposite.

Gao Song was a Balhae man. His people were an agrarian, semi-fishing-and-hunting folk, and he was not truly familiar with the cavalry tactics commonly used by steppe peoples.

Moreover, the steppe cavalry Gao Song had previously exterminated could not compare at all to these two thousand riders under Murong Xinzhang.

For here, the equipment of fifty of Murong Xinzhang's riders was better than that of a thousand steppe cavalrymen, and their fighting strength and will were on an entirely different level.

So when Gao Song, following his usual methods against steppe cavalry, released his own light cavalry as well, he immediately suffered a heavy loss.

Because the swift cavalry of the Mountain-Shaking Guard and the Left and Right Yulin Guards were equipped with horn crossbows.

In cavalry duels, their usual tactic was to charge to within a hundred-odd paces, then slow their horses and deliver precise strikes with horn crossbows, only then spurring on to fight the enemy riders with horse bows.

Thus the moment Gao Song's light cavalry was released, it came under a wave of point-blank sniping.

"Gray coat!" Zhang Xibao shouted.

"Gray coat!" Four soldiers immediately echoed him.

This was target designation. "Gray" referred to the color, and "coat" did not mean a robe but the coloring of the warhorse — a warhorse and rider of matching color was called a "coat."

To ensure accuracy — for the warhorses were moving at high speed — horn crossbow fire was directed by five riders aiming at a single enemy rider, seeking certain kills.

Amid the "thunk! thunk!" of crossbow bolts loosing, the light cavalry that had just emerged from the Khitan main formation were shot down one after another. By the time they were about to reach bow range, Zhang Xibao and his men had already switched to horse bows.

The Khitan cavalry, having suffered a heavy loss, had their morale somewhat dented, but they held firm.

Now in the horse-bow duel stage, the cavalry of both sides tangled with each other like mastiffs — except that mastiffs generally open their great jaws and bellow furiously at each other, while cavalrymen shot arrows at one another.

The Khitan cavalry, having just taken heavy losses, now reached the stage they excelled at and finally displayed their true level. The cavalry on both sides were elite troops, and for a time the fighting reached an extremely fierce pitch.

And at this moment, the armored cavalry on both sides had essentially finished donning their armor.

Murong Xinzhang and Gao Song each led their armored cavalry, beginning a slow trot, while horns summoning their light cavalry back to provide cover also began to sound.

The light cavalry, hearing the summons, broke contact without hesitation and moved to screen the heavy cavalry, which could only manage a trot.

On the ground where savage battle had raged moments before, aside from the wounded struggling everywhere and the corpses that would never move again, it was as if no fighting had ever broken out at all.

At this time, cavalry with such obedience and discipline were the elite of the elite, and so the commanders on both sides raised their attention to the fullest.

The Yong-Liang iron cavalry employed a tactic resembling a wall charge — the front ranks all carried ultra-long fifteen-chi lances, while those behind held horn crossbows and long hengdao sabers.

The Khitan cavalry's tactic was the most popular one of the era: while trotting, they would first loose a volley of arrows, and when charging, they would space themselves two horses' widths apart.

The advantage of this tactic was, first, that before true contact, a volley of arrows could be used to throw the enemy formation into disorder.

The two-horse spacing was to leave room to swing the cavalry lance or horse spear in hand.

To put it plainly, the Yong-Liang cavalry — especially the fully armored heavy cavalry — first used the force of a massed charge to break the enemy formation, then relied on the riders behind, armed with horn crossbows, long hengdao sabers, and cavalry lances, to deal the damage.

The Khitan cavalry, by contrast, swept across the enemy formation like an iron brush, and with every pass they tore away a swath of flesh and blood.

The former better embodied the heavy cavalry's power to settle a battle with a single hammer blow, but it was extremely difficult to train; the latter was more economical and practical.

The distance closed rapidly, and the cavalrymen quickened from a trot into a full charge.

At that very moment, a sky-filling rain of arrows shot out from the direction of the Khitan cavalry, and together with the arrows loosed by the light cavalry on both flanks, it spread like a black cloud around the Yong Kingdom's elite riders.

Screams and the sounds of men falling rang out one after another. Even iron cavalry with half barding still had gaps, and there were always unlucky men.

Moreover, because the elite riders' formation was too densely packed, this wave of Khitan arrow fire was especially devastating.

Yet the Yong-Liang iron cavalry did not flinch, nor did they panic from the casualties. Even the mounted archers guarding the two flanks did not blindly shoot back.

Forty paces!

Thirty paces!

Hoofbeats thundered like rolling thunder. The Yong-Liang elite riders, charging in a wall formation, slammed headlong into the Khitan cavalry ranks.

The Khitan cavalry, whose formation was somewhat loose and who had no resolve for a direct head-on clash, immediately split away to both sides, and a bloody channel was gouged straight through them.

And after the front ranks broke through, the horn bows and crossbows of the rear ranks immediately loosed at the Khitan cavalry like swarming locusts.

These were crossbows, not bows, so even iron cavalry met with a terrifying casualty rate when struck by horn crossbows!

The Khitan heavy cavalry never even got the chance to close in and kill with their cavalry lances before they were shot into chaos, men and horses tumbling. By the time they recovered their wits, the Yong-Liang cavalry had already galloped far away.

Gao Song was so frustrated he wanted to vomit blood. He hastily rallied his troops, but before the formation could even be set, the enemy heavy cavalry wheeled around once more and came charging again in a wall.

This charge was far more devastating than the last, because the Khitan cavalry's formation had not been properly adjusted, and because they were even more panicked after the previous thunderbolt strike.

In that moment, all who fell were Khitan cavalry; the Yong Kingdom's cavalry had suffered hardly any losses at all.

And at this moment, the Yong Kingdom's mounted archers finally unleashed their trump card.

Fire trees and silver flowers lit up the sky. More than six hundred pear-blossom guns sprayed out great quantities of poison smoke and iron shards, producing an enormous din.

Frightened by this, the Khitan cavalry's warhorses neighed wildly in panic, and the riders' morale sank to its lowest point.

Murong Xinzhang seized the moment to issue the order to scatter and assault. The Yong Kingdom's elite riders formed combat units of one hundred men each and wove back and forth through the Khitan cavalry ranks.

Gao Song tried several times to regroup his forces, but all to no avail. He could only raise the great banner of the commander-in-chief and direct his cavalry to circle around Jinyong City, fighting as they withdrew toward the Yellow River.

Murong Xinzhang, together with Qiong Re Duojin, clung tightly to Gao Song, constantly tearing at the flesh and blood of the Khitan cavalry in the pursuit and collisions.

Had the Khitans not outnumbered them by a thousand riders, and had these not been elite troops of the Pishi Army, Gao Song would likely have collapsed by now.

The two sides pursued and fought for about two quarters of an hour. Then the Yong Kingdom's scouting mounted-archer squads on sentry duty galloped in from the distance, all raising the red triangular flags that signaled the enemy's approach.

It turned out that the Khitan cavalry rotating between Zhongtan City and Heyang City had finally arrived.

At this moment, the enemy cavalry had swelled to six thousand riders, while the Yong-Liang cavalry, after a march of several dozen li and an hour of battle, were already somewhat weary.

Murong Xinzhang therefore broke off contact on his own initiative and led his troops back to seize the vital ground of Jinyong City.

Gao Song was just wondering why the Yong Kingdom's cavalry had stopped pursuing, when it occurred to him that the cavalry from Zhongtan and Heyang might have arrived.

Before he could even issue an order, Murong Xinzhang had already swiftly withdrawn into Jinyong City.

This... The enemy had iron cavalry of tremendous shock power, and also large numbers of crossbows. If they fought from the shelter of the city, they would have both killing power and mobility.

After a long standoff, Gao Song, still unable to resolve to press the attack, sent a man to report to Yelu Deguang while he himself could only fall back to the Yellow River to hold the pontoon bridge.

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