Chapter 66: Who Stands with the Vermilion Banner in the Rain

At Wuni City, two streams of people surged rapidly toward the Zhongyun King's palace tent.

On one side were seventy or eighty Zhongyun warriors from Wuni's northern city; on the other were Bai Congxin, along with the conscripted traveling merchants behind him, Yin Yaozi, and the rest.

Whoever reached the blasted-open left gate first and blocked the city gate would gain the upper hand.

Yan Jin clanged his modao glaive glaive glaive to the ground and gave Zhang Zhao a crossed-hand salute.

"Commandant! Let Fan Quan and me go, just the two of us! We'll block the city gate!" As he spoke, Yan Jin picked up his pair of seasoned-copper maces from the ground.

"My clansmen — I entrust them to you, Commandant, young lord!"

Zhang Zhao gripped the hilt of his hengdao saber tightly; his eyes stinging slightly, he patted Yan Jin on the shoulder and said nothing.

This was no time for dithering — Yan Jin meant to sacrifice himself holding back the Zhongyun warriors behind them, who were clearly faster, so that Zhang Zhao could concentrate everyone and smash the palace-tent warriors on the wall in one blow.

"All troops forward! Fight to the death to live!" As Yan Jin turned and left, Zhang Zhao leveled his hengdao saber and let out a heaven-shaking roar!

Dunzhu ran to his left, Man Xiong came to his right, and Fan Shun, Wang Tongxin, Qiongre Duojin, and the others took their places behind him in turn — officers in front, soldiers behind, everyone packed tightly together, forming a triangular boar's-head charge with Zhang Zhao as the point!

"Fight to the death! Fight to the death!" The heaven-shaking roar rose in response! Even Cao Yanming, who had been coasting along the whole time, picked up a hengdao saber and howled at the rear of the formation.

"Boom!" The surging Zhang Zhao and his men slammed straight into the Zhongyun warriors' formation on the high platform.

In such a dense charge there was no chance to display individual martial skill at all; Zhang Zhao held his hengdao saber level and drove it straight through the throat of the Zhongyun warrior opposite him, while at the same moment the heads of three spears pressed against Zhang Zhao's chest.

'Clang!' The spearheads snapped on impact, and Zhang Zhao let out a cry of pain; a warm sensation suddenly surged at his chest — his mingguang armor had finally been pierced through, though fortunately the penetration did not seem deep.

A fierce pain shot through his left ribs as well; quite possibly his ribs were already cracked.

But under the stimulation of adrenaline, Zhang Zhao seemed not to feel pain at all. After piercing through one Zhongyun warrior's throat, he had no chance to pause; pushed by the Hanshan Battalion soldiers behind him, he plunged straight into the densest mass of Zhongyun warriors.

Everywhere there were hands, everywhere blades, spears, axes, and hammers; Zhang Zhao did not even know whom he had struck, nor what had struck him.

He could only dimly make out small armor scales being split open one after another, and figures staggering and toppling in every direction.

Someone's arm flew into the air.

Someone's head landed with a thud.

Someone's neck-guard suddenly vanished with a rip. Huh! Zhang Zhao felt around — it seemed to be his own neck-guard!

Just as Zhang Zhao started in alarm, the Zhongyun warrior who had torn off his neck-guard was hit by three weapons almost simultaneously.

A bent spearhead pierced his chest, a thick-backed great saber chopped off his right arm, and an iron hammer smashed his head open.

Bloody water ran across the ground, and a fine rain began to drift down from the sky! Even the rain seemed to carry the stench of blood, as everyone gave play to their instincts like wild beasts.

Man Xiong went down — an axe struck him in the back — but then he did not go down; after staggering two steps, Man Xiong swung his great saber and instead cut down the axe-wielding Zhongyun warrior into the mountain of corpses and sea of blood!

"Ten thousand victories! Ten thousand victories! Ten thousand victories!" The frenzied shouting rose again, and only then did Zhang Zhao's gaze focus somewhat; the scene around him seemed to come alive all at once.

He looked left and right: the last hundred Zhongyun warriors on the wall had completely collapsed; everywhere were fleeing figures, or men lying motionless with blood-covered faces.

Below the wall at the left gate, the divine-arm crossbow in Fan Quan's hands had shattered to pieces under the strain.

Yan Jin leaned crookedly against the breach in the city gate; only one of his seasoned-copper maces remained, his helmet was gone, and the lamellar armor on his chest was almost entirely destroyed.

In front of him lay a full eleven Zhongyun warriors; to the very end, these men had not broken through the line held by Yan Jin and Fan Quan.

Outside the city gate, Bai Congxin and Ma Yaozi sat on horseback, their cavalry lances darting like vipers; the Zhongyun warriors running at full speed fell one after another, and behind them, the armed traveling merchants followed, beating the drowning dogs.

A blue-gray figure suddenly darted to Zhang Zhao's side and steadied his swaying frame — it was his cousin Yin Yaozi.

"Young lord! A hundred men destroying a kingdom — you've done it! A hundred of us, and we've struck down a whole kingdom!"

The normally composed Yin Yaozi was trembling with excitement; although it had been a surprise attack, the Zhongyun Kingdom was no soft persimmon.

Twenty years ago, his father Yin Rengui had followed Luo Tongda with three thousand troops, yet they had not even been able to break Datun City — while Zhang Zhao, with only a hundred men, had stormed Wuni City, the Zhongyun capital!

The cheers of "Ten thousand victories! Ten thousand victories!" grew even more intense; every man who had charged onto this wall was wounded, but all wore expressions of immense pride, and all looked at Zhang Zhao with blazing eyes, as if looking upon their king.

After this bloody battle, these hundred-odd vanguard warriors truly belonged to Zhang Zhao; Zhang Zhao truly possessed loyal followers who would share life and death with him!

But the battle was not over! For Zhang Zhao had seen only the great banner the Zhongyun King had abandoned — he had not seen the Zhongyun King himself!

"Lads! Let's dig three feet into the earth and find the Zhongyun King, Sanpoba!"

Through the drifting fine rain, a fiery-red banner painted with a Vermilion Bird came from far to near, galloping in from the left side of the Zhongyun King's palace tent.

Zhang Zhao wiped the rain from the corner of his eye, his heart full of shock and uncertainty.

"Fourteenth Brother, is that a vermilion banner? What sort of person could use a vermilion banner in this tiny Wuni City?"

Cao Shisi was also stunned for a moment before slowly saying, "It seems... yes. No — I should say it is indeed a vermilion banner. How could there be a vermilion banner here?"

The so-called vermilion banner was one of the six banners prescribed by the Tang court; the vermilion banner was fiery red, painted with the divine beast the Vermilion Bird, and was generally used by members of the Li Tang imperial clan serving as court officials.

But now, the Great Tang was long gone — who in this Wuni City had the right to fly a vermilion banner? What barbarian dared to pass himself off as a member of the Great Tang imperial clan?

Was it the Ganzhou Uyghurs? Or was someone of the the the Shatuo Li clan here?

"May I ask if those who have come are Great Tang warriors? My master requests a meeting!"

Beneath the vermilion banner, a yellow horse stood on the blood-soaked ground; a man in a lan robe and a luo headwrap stood tall and upright — by his features he was actually of Han appearance, and his accent was actually that of Guanzhong.

"Who are you? How dare you use a vermilion banner? And who is this master of yours?"

Zhang Zhao waved a hand to signal his cousin Yin Yaozi to release him, then walked down from the city wall; the Hanshan Battalion warriors around him followed, the battle-hardened elites radiating an intense killing aura.

The big yellow horse opposite shied back a few steps in fear, and the man in the luo headwrap turned pale at once.

Just as Zhang Zhao was about to draw his blade, the man suddenly had a flash of inspiration, dropped to one knee, and gave Zhang Zhao a crossed-hand salute.

"The Great Tang Emperor Rang's sixth son, Prince of Hanzhong Yu's second daughter, Princess Dechen of the Li clan, married the seventh-generation descendant of Prince of Wudu Commandery Sheng — the Great Sage Fengxian Princess of the Jin Kingdom, of the Li clan, requests that the young lord come for an audience!"

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