Chapter 337: The Enemy at the Gates

Just as Jiang Mingyu smiled, preparing to launch the full assault, a chill suddenly crept over his heart.

This feeling was far too familiar.

Jiang Mingyu’s alarm bells rang loud; he instantly scanned his surroundings and indeed saw, in a dark corner, a slender, cold figure faintly emerging.

The figure wore a semi-transparent white veil over the face, obscuring all features except a pair of eyes radiating venomous, icy light—fixed unblinkingly on Jiang Mingyu, advancing step by step.

“Jiang… you’ve finally come!” A cold, sinister female voice echoed beside Jiang Mingyu’s ear; before the words faded, the veiled woman vanished without a trace.

Jiang Mingyu’s expression shifted slightly; he sensed things slipping from his control, vaguely foreseeing that Zhang Jiaqi’s appearance would introduce unpredictable variables into his plan.

“Hey! Southern barbarian! Daydreaming in front of this prince? Are you scared?” At that moment, Tuoba Jiqian’s boastful voice rang from the city walls, “Today, unless I slaughter every last one of you Southern barbarian vermin, I’ll take your surname Wei!”

Jiang Mingyu’s brow twitched; he glanced at Tuoba Jiqian and said coolly, “A defeated general, how dare you bark at me?” With a wave of his hand, he ordered, “Beat the drums! Prepare to assault the city!”

Amid the thunderous war drums, Jiang Mingyu held the royal sword steady and commanded, “Issue my order: strengthen vigilance on the left flank—watch for spies!” He knew Zhang Jiaqi’s intentions were hostile and acted immediately to prepare.

Jiang Mingyu’s face remained calm; he ordered his troops to hold their ground and remain ready for any change. At the same time, he gave a subtle signal, quietly dispatching dozens of covert agents to infiltrate the Western Xia capital and locate Zhang Jiaqi.

At that moment, war drums boomed like thunder, and over a hundred thousand troops surged toward the city like a tidal wave. Jiang Mingyu raised the powerless royal sword and led from the front, charging straight for the gate. With a deafening crash, dozens of siege engines slammed into the gate, causing it to tremble and nearly collapse.

“Break in!” “Kill!” “Kill!” Amid a flood of war cries, the Western Xia defenders fought back fiercely. Yet our assault was so brutal that the gate area was instantly littered with corpses and carnage.

At this critical moment, a silver flash shot from a crack in the gate, striking Jiang Mingyu’s face like lightning!

Jiang Mingyu, caught off guard, swiftly pulled back. The silver flash grazed his cheek and embedded itself in the earthen wall behind him. He instantly realized it was a ruthless hidden dart—fast as a flash, gone as a blink—and likely fired by Zhang Jiaqi. His face darkened; he roared, “Spies have infiltrated! Strengthen the left flank’s defense!”

Behind him, chaos erupted—figures darted swiftly through our ranks. Jiang Mingyu immediately raised his sword and pointed: “Who dares cause trouble in my army’s formation?” Before he finished speaking, the figure vanished like a ghost, leaving only a trail of bell-like laughter.

Jiang Mingyu’s heart froze; his face turned deathly pale—he knew that voice too well.

“Hahaha!” Tuoba Jiqian suddenly burst into laughter from the walls, “Jiang Mingyu! I told you—your Southern barbarian vermin can never be fully wiped out! Now, do you still have the heart to assault the city?!”

Jiang Mingyu laughed bitterly with rage: “A defeated general dares speak such arrogance? I see you’re eager to walk the same path of ruin you took ten years ago!” He raised his sword and shouted, “Attack!”

Liu Dagang heard this, turned his horse, and shouted loudly.

“The Emperor’s order: assault the city immediately. Archers, prepare!”

Instantly, tens of thousands of archers stepped forward in unison, bows drawn full as full moons, icy arrowheads angled toward the sky.

Jiang Mingyu, seeing this, spoke without hesitation.

“Fire.”

In an instant, a storm of arrows rained down upon the Western Xia capital.

Simultaneously, an arrow streaked skyward, trailing thick crimson smoke.

That was the signal Jiang Mingyu had given to Li Goudan.

Indeed, less than an hour and forty-five minutes later, thunderous battle cries erupted from the western gate of the Western Xia capital.

Watching his men fall one after another under the arrowstorm, Tuoba Jiqian’s fury burned even hotter.

He roared.

“What are you waiting for? Fire arrows! Kill them! Show them what real pain is…”

Before he finished speaking, an arrow whistled past his scalp.

Tuoba Jiqian gasped in shock, swallowed his unfinished words, and dove behind a shield.

Arrows fell like rain; Liu Dagang roared, “Follow me! Charge!” He gripped his great saber in one hand and shield in the other, leading the charge toward the gate. A hail of arrows and boulders instantly felled over a dozen strong warriors. Liu Dagang pressed forward, bellowing, “Don’t fear! Follow me!”

Yet the enemy’s defense grew fiercer; several wounded soldiers could no longer advance. “Brothers, hold on a little longer—the gate is right ahead!” Liu Dagang screamed, but many were already bleeding heavily, arrows like locusts, impossible to withstand.

“Crash!” A massive boulder struck Liu Dagang’s right arm, spurting blood everywhere. “General!” Those nearby cried out in alarm. Liu Dagang gritted his teeth, forcing himself to keep commanding. But the wound was too severe—he began to falter.

At that moment, a young junior officer stepped forward and grabbed Liu Dagang: “General, your wound is serious—I’ll lead the men behind you!” Liu Dagang flew into rage, shoved him away: “If I can’t lead myself, how can I lead others?” He swung his blade and charged to the front, roaring, “Brothers, charge—!”

The wounded soldiers behind him clenched their teeth and struggled to follow Liu Dagang. Blood, severed limbs, and mangled bodies filled the scene; the junior officer named Jilinsi remained steadfastly behind him. Suddenly, a poisoned arrow shot straight toward him—Jilinsi, quick-eyed and swift, lunged forward and threw himself between Liu Dagang and the arrow!

“Little Ji!” Liu Dagang’s face turned pale as he watched the young officer fall, arrow embedded. Jilinsi was dead. Liu Dagang’s eyes reddened; tears burst forth: “Brothers, charge—! We must capture Tuoba Jiqian alive—for Little Ji’s revenge!”

Soldiers roared in fury, fighting even harder. Tuoba Jiqian on the walls, sensing the pressure, shouted, “Pour boiling oil! Melt them!” Boiling oil poured like water, more soldiers burned alive. “Bring the scaling ladders!” Liu Dagang wiped blood and tears from his face, voice hoarse with rage.

“No matter how tightly you defend, you cannot withstand our assault! Brothers, charge with me—leave none alive!” Jiang Mingyu raised his long sword, riding ahead of the army, shouting to rally morale.

The Great Jiang army roared as one, surging like a tide toward the towering walls of the Western Xia capital. Ladders, thick and numerous, were raised; armor gleamed, blades and spears flashed, their momentum majestic.

On the walls, Tuoba Jiqian’s eyes burned red; he roared, “Drown these ants!”

With a swish-swish, over a dozen giant iron cauldrons overturned, spilling boiling oil like waterfalls. Simultaneously, boulders the size of millstones rained down, crushing skulls and flattening bodies.

“Well done!” Tuoba Jiqian laughed, about to order more stones thrown—when he saw Great Jiang soldiers still climbing the ladders through the boiling oil.

“Who is this man so fierce?” He squinted and saw, at the top of a ladder, a towering figure clad in black armor, his body charred, yet still clawing upward.

“Report!” A Western Xia soldier hurriedly answered, “Sir, that man is Niu Dali—a fierce general under Jiang Mingyu!”

“Hmph. A nameless nobody dares challenge this great king?” Tuoba Jiqian sneered, snatched up a heavy spear beside him, and hurled it straight at Niu Dali—

With a dull *thunk*, the spear struck Niu Dali square in the chest, hurling him and the ladder backward—he crashed to the ground, a broken heap of flesh.

“Hahaha!” Tuoba Jiqian gloated…

“Hahaha!” Tuoba Jiqian gloated, about to boast—when he saw dozens of Great Jiang soldiers already scaling the walls.

“Die!” He roared, swung his sword, knocking two enemy weapons askew, then thrust and slashed—two men fell instantly.

Below the walls, Jiang Mingyu frowned, his mind troubled.

“Something’s wrong… the defenders on the walls are clearly decimated—why are they still holding? Could it be… could it be a trick?” He muttered to himself.

At that moment, an arrow whistled through the air, aimed straight for his vital point!