Chapter 825: Displaying Might at the Taedong River

Pyongyang, toward the southeast, had a great river also called the Nam River. It was the largest tributary of the Taedong River, with abundant water.

While the naval battle at Hailing Island was underway, the Zhou cavalry fought and retreated, slowly drawing the Goryeo army to the banks of the Nam River.

The Goryeo host claimed three hundred thousand men. That was somewhat exaggerated, but counting the civilian laborers, there were still well over a hundred thousand.

That was already essentially one-tenth of the entire peninsula's population, which showed the scale of this mobilization — nearly the whole country had been emptied out.

Marching over a hundred thousand people was also an extremely troublesome affair, and the coordination and difficulty of moving them forward and back was enormous.

Thus, after the Zhou cavalry had skirmished continuously with the Goryeo cavalry for more than ten days, the Goryeo host had covered only a little over a hundred li, slowly arriving at Cibei Ridge northeast of the Nam River to set up camp.

"Great King, I've been stifled to death! When can we finally charge in and slaughter them?" Those were the first words of Riluge, the steppe cavalry chiliarch who had returned with the last batch, the moment he saw Murong Xinzhang — his most direct feeling.

These days had indeed been stifling, because the fighting strength of the Goryeo cavalry could not be called low — it could only be called the lowest Riluge had ever seen.

Great King Murong had also forbidden them from launching one fierce assault that would scare the enemy off, so they could only deliberately go without armor and hold back their strength to fight the Goryeo cavalry to a standstill.

This was not warfare; this was play-acting.

"Ha ha ha ha!" Murong Xinzhang tossed a small leather wine pouch to Riluge, laughed heartily, and said, "I know you are all stifled and miserable. Rest easy for a few days, and I guarantee you will have your chance to take the field."

With that, Murong Xinzhang took Riluge by the hand and walked into the main war council tent. Inside, all officers of Chief Inspector rank and above had long since assembled.

Murong Xinzhang had Riluge sit not far below him, then spoke: "I have obtained reliable intelligence. That Wang Zhao has indeed called up the whole country's troops, an estimated eighty thousand horse and foot."

At these words, the officers below could not help but be overjoyed.

From the information obtained earlier, when this land east of the sea had been contested by the Three Kingdoms, the two sides together had generally fielded only around fifty thousand men. Now they had actually sent out eighty thousand at once.

Wang Jing was more cautious than the others and said in a low voice, "If the intelligence is correct, counting the civilian laborers, the Goryeo people have taken one man in ten. By conscription reckoning, that is at least one in four able-bodied men — nearly one man from every household.

We have not yet taken Pyongyang, and that Wang Zhao is no fool. Why would he stake everything on a single throw like this?

Does he not know that if his army is defeated, this small foundation of the Goryeo state will collapse in an instant?"

This point was indeed baffling. Could it be that Wang Zhao thought he could destroy a powerful enemy with a snap of his fingers? The more one thought about it, the more it seemed contrary to common sense.

The assembled officers thought for a long while without figuring it out. In the end it was a crude fellow like Murong Yanchao who got straight to the point: "Great King, Lord Wang, why are we considering so much?

No matter what, the Goryeo state has only these tens of thousands of troops. Can't we just annihilate them all by the Nam River?"

Murong Xinzhang thought that was right. Before absolute strength, any petty trick was futile. Whatever scheme Wang Zhao had, all he needed to consider was killing all those tens of thousands of troops — then the problem would be solved.

Thinking of this, Murong Xinzhang pointed at the military stockade built by the Nam River. "Lord Wang, I intend to lead troops personally to storm Pyongyang. Here at the Nam River, you will hold the line."

Wang Jing quickly stepped forward, clasped his hands, and acknowledged the order. He knew Murong Xinzhang's strategy: now that the Goryeo men had been drawn over here, there was no need to keep Pyongyang intact. They would surely storm Pyongyang first to eliminate the threat at their rear.

At the same time, the army's stockade by the Nam River happened to sit right at the widest, shallowest, most suitable crossing point of the river.

Once the fierce assault on Pyongyang began here, the Goryeo army would surely also immediately launch a fierce assault on the stockade, seeking to seize this crossing point and relieve Pyongyang.

"Zhao Siwan!" Murong Xinzhang shouted. Zhao Siwan, fully armored and helmeted, quickly dropped to one knee and acknowledged.

"You murderous wretch should know that if not for the Commandant of Consorts, out of regard for twenty years of brotherhood with you, you would long since have gone to the eighteenth level of hell to suffer the torment of boiling oil."

To say that Zhao Siwan felt no emotion at all toward Zhao Kuangzan, who had been inseparable from him since childhood through twenty years of companionship, would be false — especially since Zhao Kuangzan had spared his life after he committed a grave offense.

"That I have lived to this day is entirely due to the Commandant of Consorts' magnanimity and the Great King's willingness to overlook past wrongs and take me in. A guilty man has no fine words; I wish only to repay this with my death."

"Very well. Lead your one thousand elite Qihuo Braves and remain at the Nam River with Lord Wang. If the Nam River is lost, I will kill every last one of you."

Zhao Siwan gave a grim chuckle, though the smile on his face was somewhat chilling. "If the Goryeo men truly take the stockade, I will surely kill all those around me and then die in battle. I will not trouble the Great King to act."

Murong Xinzhang nodded with satisfaction, then summoned Tuoheida, the chiliarch of the Merkit men. "I have heard that the Merkit longbowmen are unmatched across the northern desert. Do not disappoint me."

Tuoheida quickly prostrated himself. "By Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva above, the Merkit will surely slaughter every enemy of the King."

Wang Zhao actually had no scheme at all, because on the peninsula today, only the western side near the Central Plains could sustain a large population, and the whole land from north to south was only about a thousand li long. Conscription was quite convenient — it sounded dramatic, but in reality it was not so frightening.

Moreover, because the terrain was this strange shape, both long and narrow and short and cramped, once war broke out one had to commit everything. Otherwise, if Pyongyang fell, Gaegyeong could not be defended either.

Unless Wang Zhao was willing to go live in the mountains like a monkey, or go to an island and live like a sea monkey, waiting until the enemy withdrew on their own before returning.

No! Given the political structure of the Wang Goryeo state, if Wang Zhao dared retreat into the mountains and islands entirely controlled by the great clans, he would most likely simply be murdered.

Therefore, it was better to keep every usable soldier in the country by his side.

If he won, he could use the great victory to make the great clans contribute men and money at Pyongyang, settling the frontier with migrants and further weakening their strength.

If he lost, he could at least expend the great clans' private troops here. Afterward, whether he retreated to the mountains or held out on the east coast, he could at least guarantee he would not be completely shackled by the local great clans.

There was only one thing Wang Zhao had not considered, or perhaps did not dare think deeply about: what if the entire army was annihilated?

The stockade by the Nam River was actually very crudely built. Apart from simple chevaux-de-frise, the terrain had not even been chosen for a more advantageous position closer to the hillside. It was simply camped a few hundred paces from the riverbank.

Under Wang Jing's command were the entire Andong Garrison of the imperial guard and one battalion of the Pingdong Garrison, about four thousand men in total; Zhao Siwan's Qihuo Braves, over a thousand men; and Tuoheida's nine hundred Merkit longbowmen.

The numbers were not large — around six thousand men. Wang Jing's battle formation was even bolder: the Andong Garrison's heavy infantry were drawn up in small squares of five hundred men, arrayed two in front and three behind, anchored against the stockade.

Behind the Andong Garrison's formation, the Merkit longbowmen were drawn up in two long ranks, while the Pingdong Garrison's one thousand elite cavalry guarded the flanks.

The remaining one thousand Qihuo Braves, wearing half-coats of mail and bearing all manner of close-combat weapons, waited at the stockade gate like mad dogs awaiting their master's command.

After the Goryeo army set up camp, Wang Zhao personally led troops over to take a look, and his nose nearly bent out of shape with rage. You fucking insult me too much!

I personally lead a great army of three hundred thousand here, and you array five thousand men on an open plain? What do you think I'm bringing — three hundred thousand pigs?

In the distance, thick wolf-smoke rose from the walls of Pyongyang, and faint sounds of shouting and killing seemed to drift over. Clearly the city was calling for help.

Because Murong Xinzhang had turned up the pressure on the Pyongyang garrison, who had underestimated the Zhou army's fighting strength, sending the Pingdong Garrison's infantry in heavy armor to assault directly.

The Goryeo Senior General Jiang Gongzhen rode up beside Wang Zhao. As a veteran of more than thirty years of campaigning, he sensed the faintest hint that something was wrong.

It seemed as if their side was being led by the nose by the enemy, but exactly what was wrong, he could not say.

"Your Majesty, we must quickly crush the northern bandits by the Nam River and cross to give battle. No matter what, we must reach the city before the western capital Pyongyang falls."

Wang Zhao nodded and was about to order Jiang Gongzhen to oversee the main army's attack when Yu Jing, the vanguard Troop Commander, said loudly, "Your servant requests to lead his own fifteen thousand horse and foot into battle. I need only Your Majesty to send two thousand imperial guard archers in support."

The Yu clan was a top-tier great house in Goryeo, controlling hundreds of military officers under its command. Yu Jing was a tiger son of a military family, famed throughout the country for his knowledge of war. That he was willing to take the field was undoubtedly most fitting, and Wang Zhao immediately assigned two thousand imperial guard archers to Yu Jing.

The Goryeo imperial guard archer units were an elite force established in the time of Wang Geon, selected from the best marksmen of every province and commandery.

And Yu Jing's father, the Goryeo founding general Yu Geonpil, had been famed for his archery, so the military officers and retainers controlled by the Yu clan were also mostly renowned marksmen.

Yu Jing mixed his own clan's archers with the imperial guard archers, assembling a full seven thousand men. In the eyes of this second-generation general, the number of archers alone was several times the total troops of the northern bandits. Once this sky-covering rain of arrows fell, would they not simply collapse?

Liu Yibao gripped a short bow and, shoulder to shoulder with his fellow townsmen, marched forward to the beat of the drums.

Their home region of Pingzhou belonged to the Yu family's territory. In Pingzhou, the Yu family was the sky above the heads of these poor wretches.

So even in the busy farming season, at a single command from the Yu family, they could only leave the farm work to their aged parents, take up their own weapons, eat the cakes the Yu family issued — mixed with large amounts of wild greens and even sand — and come several hundred li to Pyongyang to fight the northern invaders to the death.

Liu Yibao had such an odd name because when he was born his family was too poor to have even a scrap of cloth to make him a baby's garment. His maternal uncle tore a large piece from his own clothes, wrapped him in that cloth, and in the end made a garment for him from that same cloth.

Thinking of his own name, Liu Yibao turned his gaze to the boy in the front row who was still wiping away tears — his uncle's son, his own first cousin.

As for why his cousin was wiping away tears, Liu Yibao knew the reason very well. Sometime before the new year, his uncle's eyes had gone blurry for no apparent reason. The family had poured out their remaining money to treat him several times, but nothing worked. Even daily living had become a problem, let alone farming.

Now that his cousin was leaving, there would be no one left in the household. Although the neighbors could help a little, every village had had its able-bodied men conscripted, leaving only the old and weak. How much help could they really give?

Liu Yibao's heart felt heavy. He sniffled twice, not knowing whether, by the time they finished fighting the northern invaders and returned, the family fields would already have gone to waste, and whether his uncle might already have—

Lost in wild thoughts, he suddenly heard a burst of drumming. From up ahead came wave after wave of military orders. At once everyone panicked, because this sound was all too familiar to them — it was the drumbeat of battle.

Yu Dongge wore a fine suit of hanging-plate armor and walked at the very front, holding a strong bow reinforced with ox sinew.

He was from a distant branch of the Pingzhou Yu family. He had obtained a military-rank qualification and chosen the minor post of Pingzhou Storehouse Guard Squad Leader. He owned three hundred mu of land in the countryside, and the tenant rents of two or three nearby villages were collected by him on behalf of the Yu family.

Though it seemed a minor post, the power in his hands was considerable — especially the authority to collect tenant rents on their behalf, which gave Yu Dongge room to manipulate things for his own benefit.

After all, the Yu family only cared about the total amount. As for exactly who paid more and who paid less, that was entirely up to him.

In the villages, this was no different from holding the power of life and death. Whoever wanted to pay less rent — if a hunter's family took game, the fattest, most tender meat had to be offered to him; if a family caught fish, the biggest one had to be presented to him as well.

Even if some family had a pretty daughter or young wife, sending her over to serve him for a few nights was a common occurrence.

With such great benefits, Yu Dongge was utterly loyal to the man who had given him this power. Donning his hanging-plate armor and taking up his strong bow, he swore in his heart that he would slaughter every last northern invader who disturbed his good life.

Clang! A bronze gong sounded, and the squad leader on the left began cursing furiously, ordering everyone to speed up and advance.

This was because, before they had even reached shooting range, some men had begun shortening their stride, so that after walking more than twenty steps, the group had actually covered only the distance of ten ordinary steps.

"How can you be so afraid of death? Have you forgotten who gives you white rice to eat?"

Yu Dongge burned with fury. As the squad leader cursed, he too roared, and lengthened his stride, immediately surging a large stretch ahead.

Some around him thought Yu Dongge was right — fighting the northern invaders, how could one cling to life and fear death? So one after another they followed Yu Dongge's pace.

But in the end, each man had his own thoughts. Some strode forward with great steps; some put on an act, taking two big steps and then, when no one was watching, switching back to small ones; some stayed silent and kept taking small steps.

Wang Jing laughed and turned to his son Wang Tingyi beside him, because with Yu Dongge's great stride, the previously still orderly Goryeo battle formation immediately began to twist and fall out of shape.

"Send out those Merkit longbowmen. Give these Goryeo men a little appetizer first."

Toghtaq received the order and was the first to step forward. With each step he took, he struck the drum once, and only then did the other Merkits take a step — the display was extremely disciplined.

And the longbows in their hands were unlike the hard bows of the Han lands. The bow staves were longer, and the arrows were long and heavy.

"Warriors of the Merkits, the time has come to win glory from the battlefield." Toghtaq knew well that for his people to gain respect and survive on better ground, there was no choice but to fight to the death.

With his shout, hundreds of Merkit great bows loosed arrows just as huge.

"There's still over a hundred paces left! What can you possibly hit at this range!"

Yu Dongge smiled contemptuously. These northern invaders were too stupid. Didn't they know he was wearing iron armor? At this distance, the arrows they shot posed hardly any threat.

But immediately, he sensed something wrong. A shrill scream sounded by his ear — an arrow at least three chi long fell from the sky and drove straight into the chest of the squad leader who had just been cursing.

The squad leader, like him, wore a suit of "fine" hanging-plate armor, but even so, this arrow pierced straight through the armor on the squad leader's chest. Half of the thick arrow shaft seemed to have sprouted from the squad leader's chest.

The squad leader had been shot to the ground. He opened his great mouth, yellow teeth soaked in blood, and shrieked horribly at Yu Dongge. The armor plates on his chest were completely deformed.

Th-this thing falling from the sky — was it an arrow or a thrown spear?

Yu Dongge was nearly frightened senseless. Staring at the long arrow shaft in the squad leader's chest, he suddenly felt a chill of dread for no reason at all.

Thunk. Another sound of an arrow piercing flesh rang out. At the edge of Yu Dongge's right eye, a pair of big black feet covered in mud suddenly flew up into his field of vision.

The owner of those big black feet looked as if he had been rammed by a mad bull — all four limbs flailing skyward, he was shot to the ground.

"Fight back! Run!" Someone shouted, and the Goryeo archers, stunned by the first volley of longbows, seemed suddenly to wake, and began sprinting forward at full speed.

But at that very moment — swish — as Wang Tingyi raised his hand, the Andong Garrison imperial troops, who had been in a square formation, suddenly spread out into three horizontal ranks. In the soldiers' hands were lacquered wooden single-shot crossbows.

The sound of triggers rang out like a swarm of bees leaving the hive. The flying bolts streaked through the air in a flash of dark silver light, then surged toward the Goryeo archers.

Yu Dongge ran at the very front. He had just raised his hand, intending to shoot his strong bow, when he suddenly felt his hand losing strength. How strange — normally he could draw the bow ten times without any problem.

Yu Dongge thought it might be his posture. He took another deep breath, but with that very breath, a strong smell of blood quickly spread through his nasal cavity. This was not a smell coming from outside — it seemed to come from his own mouth.

In terror, Yu Dongge lowered his head, and only then discovered that a crossbow bolt with a very short shaft but devastating killing power had pierced his chest at some point.

The hanging-plate armor he usually took such pride in had offered no protection at all — it had been pierced straight through.

Clatter! The strong bow Yu Dongge treasured like a jewel fell to the ground. Those powerful hands of his could no longer even grip the bow. The weeping and roaring around him seemed, in an instant, to become piercingly clear.

Yu Dongge desperately twisted his head, wanting to catch a glimpse of the Yu family head, Yu Jing, to tell him that he had died in battle.

But at that very moment, one of those huge long arrows fell from the sky again. Thunk — it passed through Yu Dongge's neck and nailed him to the ground.

Over a thousand wooden single-shot crossbows and over a thousand longbows — one firing flat, the other arcing — formed a perfect all-direction kill zone, and in an instant shattered the thousand-odd armored infantry Yu Jing had arrayed at the front.

And watching these military-rank men and armored soldiers, who normally strutted about so arrogantly, fleeing in panic to the rear, someone among the conscripts like Liu Yibao let out a wail — and ran even faster than they did.

Yu Jing was furious. Although he could see that the enemy's crossbows were deadly, he could not tolerate his own force collapsing after losing only one or two hundred men.

Snow-bright blade-light flashed within the formation. It was not the Zhou army cutting men down in pursuit — it was Yu Jing's personal guards killing. Anyone who retreated and crashed into the battle formation was cut down on the spot by their own side, without distinction.

Liu Yibao was quick-eyed and quick-handed. Just as he was about to collide with a blade, he snatched a bow that happened to pass before his eyes and pretended to fall back to the sides.

And the man whose bow he had snatched, pushed onward by the flow of the crowd, still pointed at Liu Yibao as if to say something — then his head flew into the air.

Yu Jing personally spurred his horse to the front rank and threw the several dozen heads of those just executed for retreating in the face of battle before the soldiers. "This time the two wings will lead the assault. Anyone who retreats again — his whole family dies!"

These men were mostly Yu family retainers. If Yu Jing said he would kill their whole families, then he could certainly kill their whole families. Under this threat, the situation immediately stabilized.

Yu Jing's plan was simple. The enemy had fewer men but many crossbows, so he would attack using a crane's-wing formation that emphasized the two wings.

This formation more closely resembled a crab spreading its two great pincers. The center was a meat shield of men holding rattan shields, while the real killing blow came from the elite troops circling around on the two wings.

This could confuse the enemy and draw their bows and crossbows onto the central meat shield. Even if it did not draw them, because crossbow bolts fired in ranks traveled flat, their killing power against the two wings of a crane's-wing formation would drop considerably.

The quality of Goryeo armor was far inferior, but that also meant they carried less weight, so Yu Jing's crane's-wing formation spread out very quickly.

Countless Goryeo men, having gnawed on honey-plum rice balls, wore straw sandals and, amid wave after wave of howling, displayed their people's true specialty — their feet ran so fast they nearly flew.

Wang Jing gave a cold laugh and immediately ordered the cavalry on both wings to attack. Against a crane's-wing formation — infantry that relied on flanking maneuvers but could not form a square — the best weapon was cavalry.

Yu Jing also stroked the beard under his chin from a distance, then swept his command banner. He had two thousand cavalry; the enemy had five hundred at most. What he was waiting for was precisely the enemy cavalry to move out, so he could counter them.

It looked as though Wang Jing had miscalculated, but in truth, if Wang Jing had only these tricks, he would not deserve to be the foremost of all the commanders under the Liaoyang Commandery Prince's overlord headquarters, nor would the Yingguo Princess, Lady Li, have personally come forward to recruit him.

"Change formation! Send the Merkit out to attack!" Wang Jing had long since prepared his countermeasure. The five hundred Andong Garrison heavy crossbowmen on the outermost edge quickly shifted into a splayed formation, shielding the central army.

At the same time, the nine hundred Merkit set down their longbows, suddenly mounted their horses with horse bows in hand, and likewise became cavalry.

This change caught Yu Jing completely off guard. If he ignored it, both his wings would be scattered by these nearly a thousand cavalry.

So he could only order the three hundred core retainers of the Yu family remaining at his side to mount up as well and hurry to intercept them. He could not let the northern bandits smash his crane-wing formation apart.

But in doing so, the men around Yu Jing were reduced to only a few hundred infantry, with no cavalry left to protect him. If it came to a critical moment, the infantry might not be able to shield him in time.

In the Goryeo central army, Liu Yibao and the others were organized once more. This time they had strength in numbers and the protection of rattan shields, and the enemy seemed to have few crossbow bolts and longbow arrows left to shoot at them, which at once lifted their previously sagging morale considerably.

And this offset the Zhou army's advantage in crossbows. After all, the Goryeo army outnumbered Wang Jing's army four to one, and in a contest of spears thrusting at each other, superior numbers still held a great advantage. For a time, the two sides actually fought to a standstill.

Wang Jing stood at the highest point, one eye fixed on the hourglass, watching the Goryeo men attack from three sides.

Only after a full quarter hour had passed, and the Goryeo men had suffered several hundred more casualties, with the front ranks no longer able to press on and preparing to rotate the rear ranks forward, did Wang Jing shout:

"Zhao Sijian, it's your turn! Smash these Goryeo men!"

Zhao Sijian and his men had long been lying in wait behind the stockade gate. The moment he heard Wang Jing's summons, he leaped out at once, followed by his man-eating army, howling as they ran.

The armored soldiers of Pingdong Garrison facing the enemy immediately opened a path, letting these condemned mad dogs charge through to break the enemy.

Yu Jing already felt victory was in his grasp. The northern bandits were few; even by rotating his troops in waves, he could wear them down to death.

But at the very moment he sounded the gong to signal the front ranks to withdraw and the rear ranks to advance, Zhao Sijian charged to the front with the Qihuo Braves.

Led by Zhao Sijian, they let out a chilling howl in unison, then hurled the throwing weapons in their hands — short-handled axes, hand spears, stone hammers — violently at the enemy.

The short-handled axes whirled through the air with a shriek. The massive stone hammers and the deeply penetrating hand spears, thrown by these ferocious men, wrought tremendous destruction, and a great swath of Goryeo men collapsed at the sound.

And seizing this small gap, Zhao Sijian and his men, charging in a wild boar rush, plunged straight in and began hacking and slaughtering.

The Goryeo men had few hanging-armor coats and short armor to begin with. How could they withstand the impact of the Qihuo Braves, clad in cloth-faced iron armor and drilled in the manner of the Cai bandits?

Though Zhao Sijian and his men numbered only a thousand, every one of them was a veteran killer. Under their assault, the four thousand-odd men of the Goryeo central army were beaten back again and again, utterly powerless to strike back.

Yu Jing was frantic, spinning in circles. The two wings of his crane-wing formation could not advance, and the central army had been driven back. If this went wrong, the whole formation might collapse at any moment!

What he did not see was that ever since the cavalry around him had been dispatched, Wang Jing had fixed his eyes on him.

"Slave-thief! I have come expressly to take your life!" Wang Tingyi roared.

It turned out that while Yu Jing was too absorbed in observing the battlefield, Wang Tingyi had already led a hundred riders around the Goryeo men's line of sight and thrust in from the flank to Yu Jing's vicinity.

Yu Jing felt a numbness run through his whole body, his anxiety turning to terror. The personal officers around him shouted urgently for the unarmored infantry to come at once and form ranks to block the enemy.

This is why infantry cannot protect a commander-in-chief on their own: men cannot wear armor for long periods, and without armor their fighting strength drops many times over.

If it were cavalry, they would keep a wide-ranging watch on the outside, and it would not be easy for anyone to slip in close.

At the same time, they could immediately split off a portion of men to intercept, while another portion escorted the commander to safety.

With the delay they bought, the infantry would have fully donned their armor and been sufficient to guard him.

The hundred cavalry under Wang Tingyi had all gone red-eyed. This was taking an enemy general's head amid ten thousand troops!

Who would not want such glory and prestige? Spurred by the raging adrenaline, each of them seemed tireless as they loosed a great volley of arrows in rapid succession, and the unarmored Goryeo infantry were shot down one after another onto the ground.

Wang Tingyi and his light cavalry passed through the already collapsing infantry formation with ease.

At this moment, Yu Jing was being pushed onto horseback by several household guards. Before the horse could even start running, Wang Tingyi was upon him. Holding his long lance, he had been gathering strength for a long while, and with one thrust from behind, he smashed Yu Jing's skull open, brains bursting out!

Wang Zhao, watching from afar, was so furious his eyes nearly split. He had never imagined the battle would turn out this way. He had attacked five or six thousand of the enemy with nearly twenty thousand troops, and in the end even his chief commander had been killed.

Wang Zhao, who understood little of military affairs, still wanted to order Piao Yinggui and the others to charge in with the cavalry and salvage the battle, but the veteran commander Jiang Gongzhen already understood the danger.

He hurriedly had men escort Wang Zhao to the rear, while ordering the already assembled infantry to advance slowly to receive them.

Sure enough, the Pingdong Garrison light cavalry had long since scattered Yu Jing's cavalry and were lying in ambush all around. If Wang Zhao dared to release the several thousand cavalry at his side, they would not mind letting Wang Zhao taste Yu Jing's fate.

And seeing Wang Zhao being escorted by Jiang Gongzhen back to a safe area, Chief Supervisor Zhang Jianxiong let out a great roar, turned around, and charged at Yu Jing's troops, who were on the verge of collapse.

Over there, Jiang Gongzhen personally planted the great command banner on a hillside and ordered the Goryeo soldiers to advance slowly, shouting loudly to receive the retreating men.

This old general was still quite skilled. He knew the northern bandits were few and could not inflict massive casualties at once. As long as he formed ranks here and slowed things down, he could still bring most of the men back.

Ah, yesterday I was suddenly conscripted to go elsewhere to deal with some matters, and by the time I got back and wrote until midnight, I had only managed a little over two thousand characters. I'm truly sorry. I'll take it easy over the weekend and write a bit more, and I promise not to keep you waiting again.

(End of Chapter)

Related