Chapter 357

Tukesulu and He Jing stood atop the city wall, imposing and formidable; Tukesulu looked down with disdain.

“I knew you’d try to take the city. It’s late—come on up?”

Seeing this scene, a southern border junior officer who had just regained his wits hurriedly asked a man who looked like a commander.

“Commandant Song, what do we do now?”

What do we do?

Commandant Song’s eyes turned bloodshot; he trembled as he pointed at the towering city wall and barked, “All troops, follow me—storm the Jiancheng and reclaim our southern border territory!”

No sooner had he spoken than a southern border junior officer in uniform rushed forward and blocked Commandant Song’s path: “Commandant Song, your forces are outnumbered; launching a reckless assault will only waste lives. I suggest we withdraw.”

Commandant Song drew a sharp breath and snapped, “Commander Ke has ordered this battle—we must retake Jiancheng! How dare you, a mere junior officer, defy military orders?”

The junior officer snorted: “Commander Ke isn’t here. You, a commander from some county town, think you can command me? First, lay out your assault plan—give me sound reasoning, then I’ll follow your orders.”

As a commander leading troops, he knew full well what his soldiers would face once the order was given.

One Tukesulu was already this ferocious—add to that tens of thousands of Eastern Guard troops, and this wasn’t an assault—it was suicide.

Notably, this junior officer was Ke Bin’s trusted aide, accustomed to grand battles.

Thus, he would never blindly obey the orders of a commander from a county town without first understanding the situation.

If he lost all sixty thousand men here without breaching Jiancheng, how could he explain it to Ke Bin?

Commandant Song understood the junior officer’s status perfectly—now that Yan Hang was dead, the former had become Ke Bin’s mouthpiece.

Unless he convinced this man quickly, launching an assault was impossible.

Seeing the junior officer’s firm stance, Commandant Song’s mind raced, then he softened his tone: “I’m forced into this assault. We must pin down Jiang Mingyu at the East Gate, easing pressure on the defenders there—only then can they succeed. Neither of us wants to waste lives, but now we must attack to win—and securing our own survival is enough.”

The junior officer frowned: “I understand your intent, but the East Gate defenders outnumber us, and the enemy there is weaker—why should we sacrifice ourselves to distract them? Besides, Tukesulu is stationed there—what use would our assault be?”

Commandant Song’s brow twitched; he sensed this man was unusual, and said gravely: “You don’t know—the East Gate’s defenders are numerous, but their commander, Governor Yan, is dead. Their morale is shattered. If we storm the West Gate, we’ll force them to shift troops from the East Gate to reinforce it, boosting the East Gate’s confidence—and giving us a better chance to win.”

The junior officer hesitated—he understood the importance of morale. At that moment, a cold snort came from the city wall: “You two, decide whether to attack or not—hurry up! If you dawdle, I’m going back to sleep!”

Both looked up to see Tukesulu, arms crossed, standing atop the wall with clear impatience. The junior officer instantly flew into rage: “Tukesulu, why are you the only one left on the wall? Did all your troops flee?”

Tukesulu sneered: “I don’t stoop to dealing with trash like you. Your troops are right below, rearranging ranks—they’ll charge up any moment. Better prepare to meet my iron hooves!”

The junior officer paled—he knew Tukesulu’s strength all too well. If both gates were assaulted simultaneously, the situation would become dire. He hesitated again. Commandant Song spoke up: “Our assault will disrupt the enemy’s rhythm. Otherwise, Tukesulu will grow overconfident, and the East Gate will struggle even more. Even if we fail to breach the wall, we can cripple their combat strength and give the East Gate a better chance.”

The junior officer finally nodded: “Fine. Since circumstances demand it, I’ll lead my sixty thousand southern border troops to assist your assault on the West Gate—kill Tukesulu and his kind!”

Commandant Song beamed and shouted to the southern border troops behind him: “All troops, follow me—storm Jiancheng, capture Tukesulu, reclaim our southern border territory!”

“Kill—!”

Before the cry ended, over a hundred southern border soldiers carrying scaling ladders screamed and charged toward the distant wall.

Being driven back earlier by Tukesulu alone had been a massive humiliation.

If this got out, even Ke Bin would become a laughingstock in the southern border army.

The best way to wash away this shame was to take Jiancheng—and cleanse their disgrace with enemy blood.

Watching the surging enemy troops, He Jing’s lips curled.

“Your Highness, just as His Majesty and you predicted—they’ve come.”

Tukesulu chuckled, his delicate face filled with contempt.

“Then play with them well—don’t let them make this trip in vain.”

As he spoke, the southern border troops had reached a hundred paces away.

Seeing his subordinate commandant about to order archers to fire, He Jing remained calm and said:

“Hold firm—fire arrows only within a hundred paces, boulders and logs only within ten.

When they climb the ladders, pour boiling oil. If any survive to reach the parapet, skewer them with spears.”

After fighting alongside Tukesulu for so long, he knew this routine by heart.

Soon, the commandant who had been about to order the arrows shouted:

“Enemy is under a hundred paces!”

He Jing nodded slightly.

“Fire!” He Jing commanded. Hundreds of arrows whistled from the wall, striking the southern border soldiers hauling ladders. Stones and logs followed, crushing more enemies into pulp.

“Hahaha!” Tukesulu roared from the wall, “He Jing, with our two gates working together, these southern border dogs dream of taking Jiancheng! Look at them—so stupid, like pigs, thinking they can even reach the top!”

He Jing sneered: “These stinking sheep brats only bully civilians in peacetime. On the battlefield, they’re idiots—can’t even defend themselves. They’re just walking corpses.”

As he spoke, the southern border soldiers carrying ladders drew near. A volley of arrows felled most of them; the rest were driven back by falling logs. One southern border junior officer, enraged, slashed his sword forward and roared: “All of you—charge! Today, I’ll kill these two bitches!”

No sooner had he spoken than another rain of arrows fell, killing his attendants. Seeing the southern border army suffer heavy losses yet still charge forward, Tukesulu sneered: “He Jing, why are these beasts so hungry? They know they can’t break in, yet still climb—do they have brain damage?”

He Jing laughed: “Your Highness is right—these dogs’ heads are full of nonsense. With only this reckless courage, they think they can sneak onto the wall? They’re asking for death!”

“No more hiding—charge!” The southern border junior officer raised his sword and roared, then charged straight for the ladder. The few remaining soldiers, inspired by their veteran’s bravery, rallied and followed.

“I say, just shoot this fool dead,” Tukesulu muttered from the wall, “charging the ladder like this—isn’t that suicide?”

He Jing raised his hand, stopping his archers. He stared fixedly at the junior officer and sneered: “Don’t rush—this dog’s still useful. Let him lead the others up to die—it’ll save us arrows. Then I’ll shoot him through the head—how sweet would that be?”

Tukesulu burst into laughter: “He Jing’s right! Look at that beast’s face—so fearless! Southern border folk really don’t fear death!” The two chatted, watching from above as lives below were extinguished, showing not a trace of pity.

At that moment, a Song army commandant shouted: “Whoever climbs the wall and kills Tukesulu or He Jing gets all the spoils!” Hearing this, the southern border soldiers climbing the ladders brightened, charging even harder. They weren’t fighting for honor—they wanted the city’s riches.

“Bring down the logs!” He Jing’s face darkened. “I’ll crush these greedy beasts into paste!” As he spoke, dozens of massive boulders crashed down, striking southern border soldiers halfway up the ladders. Screams rose, bodies fell—but the others kept climbing.

“Ha! He Jing, let’s see who kills the enemy general first? That southern border junior officer’s almost up!” Tukesulu said. He Jing turned—saw the officer just ten zhang from the wall, snarling as he clawed upward.

“Let’s bet thirty taels of gold!” He Jing laughed, drawing his sword.

“Well, shall I step in now?” Tukesulu chuckled, slapping He Jing’s shoulder. “Drive these southern border beasts off the wall, let them scream in the arrowstorm—how delightful!”

He Jing glanced at Tukesulu and said: “Your Highness, still joking? Order the archers—shoot down that southern border officer!”

No sooner had he spoken than an arrow shot from midair, aimed straight at He Jing’s chest. He Jing’s face turned pale—he had no time to dodge.

“Done for!” That was all He Jing’s mind held.

At that critical moment, Tukesulu’s eyes flashed—he snatched the arrow out of the air. He Jing’s face was instantly drenched in cold sweat.

“Hmph. These southern border beasts’ archery is truly treacherous,” Tukesulu sneered. “He Jing, watch yourself!”

The southern border junior officer, seeing his arrow miss, roared in fury: “Keep climbing! Today, I’ll take the heads of these great border dogs from this wall!”

He Jing was enraged too: “Then let’s end this quickly! Archers—fire! Pour all the boiling oil down—scald as many as you can!”

The two armies plunged into brutal melee. At that moment, Jiang Mingyu’s messenger galloped up to Tukesulu and shouted: “Your Highness, His Majesty has confirmed—no enemy troops at the West or North Gates. His Majesty orders you to leave the city immediately—destroy the southern border troops below, then join Marshal Liao at the East Gate to flank the enemy!”

Tukesulu beamed. “Perfect! I’ve been waiting to wipe out these beasts! Go back and tell my brother—I’ll reach the East Gate within half an hour!”

Tukesulu turned to He Jing and said gravely: “He Jing, hold the wall. I’m leading troops out to crush the enemy. Meet me at the East Gate in half an hour!”

With that, Tukesulu seized his sword, blurred forward, and vanished into the dust below.

The city gate crashed open. Tukesulu stood before fifty thousand troops, sword raised, and roared: “Brothers—now! Charge out and slaughter every last southern border beast!”

“Kill—!” The soldiers, pent-up with rage, surged from the gate, charging toward the southern border troops under Commandant Song with murderous intent.

The archers atop the wall also longed to turn the southern border troops into porcupines—arrows rained down like a storm. The southern border army suffered heavy losses, their formation collapsing.

Commandant Song and the southern border junior officer stared at each other—both saw despair in the other’s eyes.

The junior officer gritted his teeth: “We’ve trapped ourselves! We shouldn’t have concentrated our main force at the East Gate—now we’re surrounded by Tukesulu!”

Commandant Song growled: “It’s too late now—we die together! Brothers—fight to the death!” Eyes blazing, he charged headfirst into the great border army.

Seeing their two commanders lead the charge, the southern border troops rallied—no thought of retreat remained. They charged in, engaging the great border troops in fierce combat.

Tukesulu laughed from his horse: “Good! Perfect! These southern border beasts are delivering themselves to death!” He pointed his sword at Commandant Song and roared: “All of you—charge! Capture Commandant Song—alive!”

Soldiers surrounded Commandant Song from all sides, attacking fiercely. He fought desperately, eyes red, laughing wildly: “Come on! Today, I’ll die with you all!”

Outside the city, the two armies clashed, thunderous shouts and clashing blades echoing, hooves pounding, screams piercing the air. Commandant Song was pierced by multiple arrows, swaying, still fighting. Corpses littered the ground—red and white robes indistinguishable...

Tukesulu was slashing wildly on horseback when a scream rang out—he looked up to see a great border soldier’s head severed, rolling to the ground. The southern border junior officer had cut it off with one stroke, then split two more soldiers in two.

“Filth!” Tukesulu’s eyes turned crimson. He cherished every soldier—seeing them killed, his rage exploded. He charged his sword straight at the junior officer.

“Die!” he roared, thrusting his blade straight for the officer’s throat.

The officer barely parried the vicious strike, staggering back several steps. He wiped blood from his lips, eyes blazing: “Who are you?! Such divine skill—it’s beyond heaven!”

Tukesulu sneered, brushing his sleeve: “Before you descend to hell, I’ll generously tell you—I am the famed Tukesulu!”

“What?!” The officer’s mind exploded. This young man was the legendary war god—no wonder Yan Hang died at his hands! Now, he was only fit to die!

Tukesulu wasted no more words—his sword slashed, aiming for the officer’s throat. The officer barely raised his blade, but it shattered—and his body split in two...

The surrounding southern border soldiers stood frozen. They finally realized the tide had turned. What a terrifying opponent—his second-in-command had fallen to him! All they wanted now was to flee...

The instant the junior officer’s head hit the ground, two spears stabbed from behind Tukesulu.

“Die!” two southern border soldiers screamed.

Tukesulu smirked, leaping aside—the spear tips brushed past his armpits. Before his feet touched ground, he completed a perfect flip, landing behind them.

“You two?” he sneered, swinging his sword left and right—two heads flew off with a wet *thwack*.

“Not bad!” came a voice from the wall—He Jing, glaring at Commandant Song in the chaos. He drew a cold arrow, aimed at Commandant Song, and sneered: “Grandson—taste my arrow!”

A sharp *twang*—the arrow flew. Commandant Song had no time to react—the arrow buried itself in his left eye. He staggered, tumbled from his horse, and died struggling.

“Forward—East Gate!” Tukesulu raised his sword and roared, “Destroy the East Gate enemy, rescue our main force!”

He Jing also shouted: “Bring the remaining troops—follow me out of the city!” He ordered the gate opened and led his men to join Tukesulu.

The two forces merged, swiftly encircling and ambushing the southern border troops. The southern border army suffered catastrophic losses; the remaining soldiers, seeing both commanders dead, struggled desperately—but in the end, they were merely meat for slaughter. They knew today was lost—those who lived would still die...

A pack of stray dogs! Watching the broken southern border troops, Tukesulu sneered coldly, a flicker of cruelty crossing his delicate face. He lightly swung his sword, its tip gleaming like a fish darting through the crowd—wherever it passed, southern border heads rolled, severed without warning, arcing through the air before thudding into the dust.

“Run? Not so easy!” His slender eyebrows lifted, a cold smile curled his lips. One glance—and He Jing understood. He immediately led the remaining troops from the city to break through the encirclement.

He Jing looked honest, but was truly treacherous. Now, he didn’t care about anything—he swung his treasure blade at the southern border troops. One swing, one kill—everyone fell. In moments, he carved a wide open space among them. Hot blood splashed his bearded face—he didn’t care, still wildly excited.

Soon, the great border forces from inside and outside the city surrounded the southern border troops completely. Now, they had only one path—death. Corpses littered the ground; screams rose endlessly.

“Keep your senses sharp—there’s a big battle coming at the East Gate!” Tukesulu barked, spurring his horse forward. Thirty thousand troops surged behind him, murderous intent unrelenting.