Chapter 356: The Black-Faced Yama Returns

Jiang Mingyu and Tuxikelo stood inside the tent, silent before the unfurled map. Jiang Mingyu wore silver armor and carried a long saber at his waist, tall and imposing. Tuxikelo wore a black riding jacket, his frame slimmer than Jiang Mingyu’s, yet radiating an undeniable presence.

“I say, Tuxikelo, how exactly do you plan to lure those 60,000 Southern Frontier troops into Yang Yin Valley?” Jiang Mingyu stroked his chin, his tone probing.

Tuxikelo wiped sweat from his brow, his expression uneasy. He glanced at the map and hesitated: “Well… I intend to feign retreat.”

“What? Feign retreat?” Jiang Mingyu raised an eyebrow. “How many men as bait? Five thousand? Fifty thousand?”

“This…” Tuxikelo fell silent, cleared his throat, trying to mask his mistake. Jiang Mingyu did not interrupt, patiently waiting for his answer.

Tuxikelo’s mind raced through possibilities, then slumped in defeat. “You’re right—I didn’t think it through. Without an ambush, what else can we do?”

Seeing this, Jiang Mingyu’s lips curled slightly, his eyes filled with approval. He clapped Tuxikelo on the shoulder and said gently, “Come with me. Let’s take a walk.”

The two stepped outside the camp. Dusk had fallen. The setting sun painted the layered mountains in brilliant hues. Jiang Mingyu drew a deep breath. “Tuxik, look at this magnificent scenery—it’s as beautiful as our Great Jiang’s lands.”

Tuxikelo followed his gaze and nodded. “Brother speaks true. Such splendor must be defended at all costs.”

“Exactly!” Jiang Mingyu’s eyes blazed. “I’ve decided on a direct, frontal assault. We’ll give those 60,000 Southern Frontier troops a battle they’ll never forget!”

Tuxikelo’s eyes lit up. “I knew you wouldn’t settle for guerrilla warfare in this valley! A frontal clash—that’s what befits the prestige of our Feng Army!”

The two clapped hands and laughed. Night had fully fallen; bonfires blazed across the camp.

At dawn the next day, Jiang Mingyu convened a war council. Tuxikelo, Dog Egg, and other core commanders were present.

“How should we deploy our formation? Any suggestions?” Jiang Mingyu surveyed the group calmly.

“Brother, I believe the main force must hold the center—no slack allowed,” Tuxikelo spoke first.

“I recommend strong forces on both flanks to prevent surprise attacks from the Southern Frontier troops,” Dog Egg added.

The commanders offered opinions one after another. Jiang Mingyu listened without haste, nodding occasionally or posing questions.

After hours of discussion, they settled on a satisfactory formation. After the meeting, Jiang Mingyu pulled Tuxikelo aside. “Tuxikelo, I need you to lead the vanguard—command fifty thousand troops to break the path.”

Tuxikelo beamed. “Brother, rest assured—I won’t disgrace your trust! I’ll crush those 60,000 Southern Frontier troops into dust and teach them a lesson they’ll never forget!”

The next morning, Jiang Mingyu rose early. The sky was still dark when he climbed to the watchtower atop the camp. Far on the horizon, a faint gray glow hinted at dawn’s approach.

Footsteps sounded behind him. Jiang Mingyu turned—it was Tuxikelo.

“Brother, you’re up so early?” Tuxikelo yawned.

“Mm. Couldn’t sleep.” Jiang Mingyu nodded. “Today’s battle is critical. I must ensure absolute readiness.”

Tuxikelo stepped beside Jiang Mingyu. They stood shoulder to shoulder, gazing across the vast land.

“Don’t worry, Brother. With us generals here, sixty thousand Southern Frontier troops won’t last a single hour.”

Jiang Mingyu smiled faintly. “I’m not worried about losing. But if we can end this swiftly, sparing needless bloodshed, that would be best.”

Tuxikelo nodded in admiration. “Brother truly leads by example, caring for your soldiers. That’s why the people love you!”

As they chatted, the horizon brightened with dawn, illuminating the earth. Jiang Mingyu drew a deep breath and clapped Tuxikelo’s shoulder. “Enough. Time to prepare. Let’s wake the others.”

“Yes, sir!” Tuxikelo replied.

Soon, 170,000 troops stood ready. Jiang Mingyu, clad in silver armor and steel helm, sat astride his horse, majestic and sharp-eyed. He surveyed his army—every soldier glowed with vigor, their spirit soaring.

“My brave warriors, today we fight to crush the Southern Frontier troops and teach them a lesson they’ll never forget!” Jiang Mingyu smiled slightly—but his voice was icy.

“Yes!” The 170,000 Feng Army roared, their cry thundering across the heavens. Countless banners snapped in the wind, their might overwhelming.

Jiang Mingyu watched the approaching Southern Frontier army, his brow furrowing. Beside him, Tuxikelo clenched his fists, eager to charge. “Brother, let them taste our blades!” Jiang Mingyu shook his head. “Something’s wrong.”

“What do you mean?” Tuxikelo frowned.

“Yan Hang knows we’re here. He can’t possibly break through. So why come here to die?” Jiang Mingyu’s voice turned grave, laced with suspicion.

“Brother, this…” Tuxikelo fell silent. Jiang Mingyu’s eyes locked on the advancing enemy, signaling Tuxikelo closer.

Tuxikelo stepped forward. Jiang Mingyu pointed. “See that man on the white horse? The two horizontal scars on his chest—that’s Yan Hang.”

“He’s only a deputy regional commissioner. Where did he get 560,000 troops? Knowing it’s suicide, why come?” Jiang Mingyu’s face darkened. “There’s something hidden here. What do you think?”

Tuxikelo nodded, his eyes tense. After a long pause, he said, “Brother is right. These Southern Frontier troops aren’t here by accident. They may be luring our main force out to set an ambush.”

“Correct.” Jiang Mingyu smiled faintly. “But can you think of any other possibility?”

“Hmm…” Tuxikelo understood Jiang Mingyu’s implication, frowning in thought. Then Feng Xi spoke up: “Your Majesty, I have a bold theory. May I propose it?”

“Speak,” Jiang Mingyu said clearly.

“I believe the Southern Frontier troops came here to retake Jiancheng,” Feng Xi said. “After all, 560,000 troops are exactly the number Yan Hang needs to garrison it.”

“Hmph. Five hundred sixty thousand to take our city?” Tuxikelo sneered.

Feng Xi spread his hands. “That’s precisely why something’s amiss. Yan Hang is too cautious to march alone into such a trap.”

Jiang Mingyu’s gaze shifted to the approaching enemy lines. He felt it—this battle was far more complex than it seemed.

At that moment, a commanding voice rang from outside the tent: “Your Majesty, we’re ready to move!”

The speculation would have to wait. For now, they could only fight.

The three exchanged glances, each seeing unwavering resolve in the others’. Jiang Mingyu immediately ordered Tuxikelo to hold the main formation, while he led ten thousand Iron Guard troops to guard the rear, preparing for ambushes.

The two armies now stood barely five hundred paces apart. Jiang Mingyu’s eyes locked on Yan Hang’s sinister gaze, his suspicion deepening.

Soon, the two sides faced each other.

Feng Xi raised his great blade and roared at the Southern Frontier troops.

“Who’s Yan Hang? Step forward!”

He looked down at the enemy with disdain, a sneer twisting his rough lips.

From the Southern Frontier ranks, a thin, sallow-faced man spurred his horse forward, spear in hand.

He shouted.

“Insolent bandit! Who are you, some hillbilly fool, daring to speak so boldly before this Commandant?”

His words confirmed—he was Yan Hang.

“I am Feng Xi, commander of the Great Jiang’s Iron Cavalry!” Feng Xi’s beard bristled, his eyes red with fury as he charged out of the ranks.

Yan Hang sneered. “A traitor who surrendered? How dare you bark at me?”

“You!” Feng Xi exploded. “You Southern Frontier monkey—take this!” He swung his blade at Yan Hang.

Yan Hang parried with his spear, then thrust forward. Feng Xi barely blocked it, spitting angrily: “You think you can kill His Majesty? Dream on!”

In a flash, Feng Xi slashed again. The two clashed rapidly, trading blows.

As they fought, Feng Xi’s martial skill was superior—he unleashed a flurry of cuts. Yan Hang staggered, losing momentum.

Seizing the advantage, Feng Xi roared: “Yan Hang, your time is up!” He drew a deep breath and drove his blade straight for Yan Hang’s chest!

Yan Hang’s eyes widened—he raised his spear to block, but the force drove him back several steps. Neither gained the upper hand.

Feng Xi didn’t falter. He swung again and again, pressing the attack. Every opening he saw, he lunged for—seeking a swift end.

From rage to fear, the tide shifted in an instant. Jiang Mingyu knew he must uncover the truth behind this battle before acting.

Jiang Mingyu stared intently at the duel between Feng Xi and Yan Hang, his brow furrowed.

“Tuxikelo, can Feng Xi defeat Yan Hang?” he asked gravely.

Tuxikelo hesitated, then replied: “Your Majesty, in my humble opinion, Feng Xi is skilled—but still inferior. Within fifty rounds, he won’t hold against Yan Hang.”

Jiang Mingyu’s eyes dimmed. “So it’s true? Feng Xi isn’t his match?”

“Yes…” Tuxikelo nodded instinctively, then paused, frowning. “Wait, Brother—I…”

“Enough!” Jiang Mingyu cut him off, his gaze fixed on Yan Hang. “If Feng Xi can’t win, why hasn’t Yan Hang ended this yet? Why prolong it?”

The question struck Tuxikelo. He frowned. “That’s right… why delay?”

“Delay?” Jiang Mingyu seized the word, his expression darkening. “What do you mean by delay? You said delay?” His voice carried growing urgency.

“I… I…” Tuxikelo was bewildered by Jiang Mingyu’s reaction, stammering helplessly.

Jiang Mingyu fell into deep thought. Moments later, he looked up. “Yes—delay! Yan Hang is buying time. This battle isn’t what it seems!”

“But… but he only has sixty thousand troops?” Tuxikelo remained confused.

Jiang Mingyu had already reached a new conclusion. “No—there’s deception. We must be on full alert. Prepare for the unexpected!”

Amid the chaos of battle, the fight before Jiancheng raged as Great Jiang and Southern Frontier troops clashed. Suddenly, a panicked soldier galloped toward Jiang Mingyu and Tuxikelo.

“Report! Disaster! Forty thousand Southern Frontier troops are attacking Jiancheng’s eastern gate!”

Jiang Mingyu erupted. “What?! How is this possible?!”

Tuxikelo’s face froze—the smug grin vanished.

“Your Highness, I don’t know where those forty thousand came from! The eastern gate had only a hundred men—no match for the Southern Frontier assault!”

“If the eastern gate falls, our hundred seventy thousand troops will be trapped—there’ll be no escape!” Jiang Mingyu’s dread deepened.

“Feng Xi, return to formation! Tuxikelo, order a full retreat—immediately return to the city!”

Far away, Yan Hang smirked. “Jiang Mingyu, you think yourself clever—but now you realize it’s too late!”

He roared to his troops: “Full assault! Hold Jiang Mingyu at all costs! Once we take Jiancheng, they’ll be fish in a barrel!”

Before he finished speaking, a storm of arrows hissed toward the Great Jiang army. Jiang Mingyu and Tuxikelo’s faces paled.

“Raise shields! Protect His Majesty—retreat to the city!” Tuxikelo barked.

But before shields could rise, Yan Hang led his troops in a furious charge.

“Let loose!” Feng Xi snarled, raising his blade—only for Tuxikelo to stop him.

“You and Dog Egg lead the troops to reinforce the eastern gate. I’ll handle Yan Hang.”

Though confused, Feng Xi immediately ordered: “Iron Cavalry—full retreat! Head for the eastern gate!”

Seeing this, Yan Hang sneered again. “No one leaves today! Men, block them—leave not a single soul!”

Jiang Mingyu’s heart burned. If the hundred seventy thousand troops in Jiancheng were trapped, the consequences would be catastrophic. He scanned the surroundings, desperate for a way to break through.

As he led his men, nearly catching up to the rear of the Great Jiang army, Tuxikelo’s long saber flew through the air.

“Yan Hang, don’t be reckless—do you know who I am?”

As he spoke, he struck Yan Hang with three thrusts—so fast they were nearly invisible.

These three cuts were impossibly fast—his voice hadn’t even faded before the blade light reached Yan Hang’s face.

Yan Hang was stunned, hastily raising his spear to meet it, but it was already too late.

Tukesulu had clearly anticipated his reaction; the first slash flashed, and Yan Hang’s long spear shattered instantly.

Before Yan Hang could react, Tukesulu’s second cut pierced his throat.

As Yan Hang’s pupils began to dilate, Tukesulu’s third slash tore him into a pile of dust.

Before the shredded flesh hit the ground, Yan Hang’s head was already impaled on the blade’s tip.

Seeing this, the Southern Frontier troops who had been charging forward all froze instinctively.

As Deputy Regional Military Commissioner of Jiangzhou, Yan Hang was also a well-known fierce general in the Southern Frontier Army.

Yet in a single clash, this man before him had reduced him to a pile of shredded flesh.

Anyone would find it hard to accept such a fate in an instant.

Tukesulu paid no mind to the stunned Southern Frontier troops; he flung the head to the ground and coldly shouted.

“Yan Hang is dead. Who else dares to come forward? I swear you’ll all die here.”

Seeing this, the Southern Frontier troops blocked by Tukesulu alone on horseback trembled in fear, not daring to move.

Who was this Tukesulu? How could he so easily slay Yan Hang, a fierce general of the Southern Frontier? They all speculated about his identity, yet none could guess a thing.

Finally, a young soldier couldn’t help asking: “W-who is this Tukesulu?”

“Hahahaha...” An old Southern Frontier veteran laughed loudly. “Kid, you don’t know who the great Dajiang’s infamous ‘Black-Faced Yama’ Tukesulu is?”

“W-what? He’s the Yama who fights an entire nation single-handedly?” Everyone sucked in a breath.

The old veteran sneered: “Yama is too kind a name—he’s slaughtered countless men, he’s a demon incarnate! Who’d have thought we’d run into his true form today? We’re all going to die in this monster’s hands...”

The men shuddered, unable to believe they faced such a fate.

At that moment, the city gate opened again, and Jiang Mingyu’s voice rang out: “Tukesulu, hurry inside!”

Tukesulu sheathed his sword, calmly mounting Ma Bei: “Understood!”

“My lord, are you just letting them go?!” One subordinate couldn’t help asking.

Tukesulu gave a cold smile: “Let them go? I have no such interest. But right now, there’s something more urgent. Once the threat at Dongmen is cleared, I’ll make these bandits pay in blood.”

With that, he pulled the reins and galloped toward the city.

The Southern Frontier troops stared at the retreating rider and Yan Hang’s mangled corpse, a chill rising from their very bones. This battle would surely cost them dearly.

Seeing the gate close again and Tukesulu unharmed, Jiang Mingyu exhaled in relief.

“Tukesulu, Goudan and Feng Xi have already gone to Dongmen. The Southern Frontier troops, to support Dongmen, will attack the walls with all their might.”

“I entrust the defense of this southern gate to you and He Jing. Be extremely cautious.”

Seeing Tukesulu and He Jing nod solemnly, Jiang Mingyu said nothing more and headed straight to the northwest gates to reinforce them.

Whether the western and northern gates might also face unexpected threats was anyone’s guess.

Watching his figure fade into the distance, Tukesulu said in a low voice.

“He Jing, order the soldiers to take the walls and prepare for battle. If the Southern Frontier troops dare attack, crush them to death.”

Soon, the southern city wall bristled with flashing blades and sharp arrows.

Thousands of Dajiang soldiers clad in black armor stood shoulder to shoulder along the southern gate’s ramparts, long knives in hand, feet planted on the battlements, rigid and straight, eyes fixed ahead, waiting only for Tukesulu’s command to surge forth like a storm and swallow the invaders whole.

Bathed in the last glow of the setting sun, their sturdy armor reflected a chilling gleam. The crisp clashing of armor and blades mingled with low, steady breaths, injecting tension and brutality into the silent city. The banners atop the wall fluttered gently in the warm breeze, as if unveiling the coming slaughter.

Hundreds of black longbows rose in unison, aimed downward, their superior strings drawn taut. One loose finger, and the arrows would rush toward the enemy like moths to flame, delivering lethal strikes. The arrowheads buried in their quivers swayed and clinked in the wind, their faint chime like the whisper of death.

Torches on the wall flickered in the breeze, gilding the dark ranks of Dajiang soldiers with gold. The cold, gleaming blades, lit by firelight, radiated lethal intent—striking terror into any enemy bold enough to approach. This was the iron-blooded legion led by Dajiang’s Tukesulu!