Chapter 366

At that moment, a spear suddenly stabbed in from behind! Tokuslo’s face turned pale; he hastily pulled his sword back to block it, barely deflecting the lethal strike. Though the spear was stopped, its force still sent him reeling several steps backward, his face turning ashen. Tong Wa seized the chance, spurring his horse with all his strength; the steed galloped wildly toward the city gate. Drenched in sweat, eyes bloodshot, he screamed hoarsely: “The enemy outnumbers us—fall back and hold the city!” His voice brimmed with despair.

Upon hearing this, the Southern Frontier troops turned in panic, all fleeing toward the gate, slashing desperately through the crowd. They ran with unnatural speed, as if they’d grown eight legs, shouting incessantly, terrified that a single misstep would mean death. The foremost soldiers had already leaped across the moat and surged into the gate. Behind them, however, came a chorus of shrill screams—the Iron Cavalry and Great Jiang troops were charging hard, killing and chasing simultaneously. Blade glints, flying blood—this was hell.

Tong Wa barely reached the city wall, drenched in blood, lips pale, screaming at the defenders below: “Shoot arrows! Fire now! No matter what, don’t let the enemy follow us in!” The defenders on the wall immediately grabbed bows and aimed at the enemy. Waves of arrows blotted out the sky, blocking Tokuslo and his men’s path and claiming over a hundred Great Jiang soldiers’ lives. Tokuslo, enraged beyond words, roared and reined his horse to a stop.

Jiang Mingyu and He Jing were also forced to halt. Jiang Mingyu frowned, eyes locked on the gate: “We can’t let them escape like this! We must stop them before they fully enter the city!” With that, he spun his horse around and charged back toward the main army. He Jing and the Iron Cavalry commander followed immediately. At this moment, more than half of Tong Wa’s main force had already entered the city. If they let them flee now, all their prior efforts to repel the enemy would be wasted. Moreover, Feng Xi had yet to arrive, and the army’s grain reserves were nearly gone. Once supplies ran out, even if Tong Wa didn’t attack, they’d be trapped.

Tokuslo was about to order a full assault—no way would he let the enemy escape unscathed—but Jiang Mingyu suddenly shouted: “Wait! Hold off the assault! He Jing, fire arrows at the enemy’s rear!” His voice was grave, decisive. He Jing, sensing the urgency, immediately signaled his men to raise shields and draw bows aimed at the gate. A rain of arrows shot forth, throwing the enemy’s rear into chaos. Those who couldn’t rise lay dead in heaps; those fleeing stumbled and fell, suffering heavy casualties.

The Southern Frontier troops, already fleeing in panic, now grew even more frantic, shoving and trampling over each other’s corpses without hesitation. Seeing this, the Iron Cavalry commander prepared to lead a charge—but was pinned down by the defenders on the wall, forced to curse helplessly. With no other option, Jiang Mingyu ordered He Jing to fire again and kill the enemy.

Tong Wa, desperate, shouted at the gate guards: “Hurry, close the gate!” But the gate was narrow, packed with too many men—impossible to shut quickly. Another volley of arrows rained down; Tong Wa had to raise his chainmail before him. His hands trembled, sweat poured from his brow, and the thousands of Southern Frontier troops still outside suffered heavy losses. The bronze drums on the wall beat relentlessly, driving them to death. Tong Wa roared, slashing his sword to urge his men: “Get in now! If you dawdle, I’ll kill you!” Soldiers turned pale, staggered, and finally squeezed through the gate.

Tong Wa exhaled sharply and ordered: “Quickly—close the gate! Lower the drawbridge! Defend with all strength!” Now cornered, he had only one hope: hold the city. The defenders threw themselves into fortifying every position; arrows and stones flew, surrounding Tokuslo and his men below. The standoff held. Tong Wa knew today’s tide had turned. He clenched his fist and slammed it against the wall, face dark with fury.

But it proved that, aside from lacking martial prowess, Tong Wa was indeed capable in commanding troops.

Originally, his plan had been for Zuo Zhao to kill the enemy commander on the battlefield—if Zuo Zhao failed, he’d at least draw enemy fire. Then, with a sudden full-scale charge and numerical superiority, they’d crush Jiang Mingyu’s main force.

But no one expected Tokuslo to be even fiercer than legend claimed. The moment Zuo Zhao appeared, Tokuslo struck him down—killing him instantly. Tong Wa’s face turned ashen; he felt his legs go weak, cold sweat pouring down his body.

Fortunately, at this critical moment, he gradually regained his composure, swiftly reorganized his forces, and ordered the remaining troops to retreat into Xiongzhou City. Under his command, the Southern Frontier soldiers, though battered and disheveled, still mostly entered the city in orderly fashion.

Watching the gate slam shut again, Tokuslo gnashed his teeth in fury, wishing he could hang Tong Wa and cut him to pieces. He clenched his fists, eyes blazing red, and roared: “Brother, we must storm the city now! Don’t let that bastard escape!”

The Iron Cavalry commander nodded immediately: “Yes, Your Majesty! Tong Wa’s an old fox—he’s starving!”

Had it not been for those ambushers’ interference, Tong Wa would already be dead. Now the duck had flown from the pot—they’d labored for nothing. How could they not rage?

Storm the city? Jiang Mingyu frowned, thought for a moment, then shook his head.

“No. Tong Wa’s main force has retreated inside. I estimate he still has at least a hundred thousand troops. With his command ability, he’ll defend Xiongzhou to the death. You saw the arrows on the wall—any direct assault will cost us dearly.”

After the recent chaos, Jiang Mingyu’s forces had held the advantage, but still lost at least twenty thousand men. Now Tong Wa held the city—the situation had reversed completely. Storming a city defended by a hundred thousand troops would demand a terrible price. Jiang Mingyu knew this well, and sighed faintly.

Even if Tokuslo and his men were the fiercest warriors, breaching Xiongzhou would mean catastrophic losses. At that point, not only would unifying the entire continent become impossible—even later campaigns against Qusheng would be doomed.

Jiang Mingyu, who had once been certain of swiftly capturing Xiongzhou, now sighed deeply, a flood of bitter emotions rising within him.

Watching the city wall’s defenses, now calm yet utterly unrelaxed, Tokuslo’s brow knotted tightly, his aura heavy with gloom. After a long silence, he finally spoke in a low voice:

“But brother, if we don’t storm the city now, how else can we break it? Our grain is nearly gone—if we wait any longer, it’ll be too late!”

Hearing this, the Iron Cavalry commander, who had just returned from the front, nodded bitterly: “Yes, Your Majesty! Our grain is exhausted—we can’t last more than a few days!” To avoid alerting the troops behind them, his voice trailed off near the end.

Jiang Mingyu knew all this well. He turned his gaze back to Xiongzhou—the city’s defenses stood like a wall of bronze, flawless. After a long pause, he shook his head at the two, lowering his voice: “With our current strength, storming Xiongzhou is impossible. Our grain can still last a few days—we’ll set up camp outside and plan our next move.”

Tokuslo and the Iron Cavalry commander exchanged a glance, sighed silently, then led the army away from the city. For a moment, the two forces—inside and out—fell into uneasy stillness. Yet every soldier, whether in the camp or within the walls, harbored suspicion, silently guessing the enemy’s next move.

On the city wall, Tong Wa stood grim-faced, hands clasped behind his back, looking worn. He stared at the retreating enemy until their figures vanished beyond the horizon. Only then did he exhale deeply, a look of relief crossing his face.

“We’ve barely escaped this time...” he murmured. “Today’s defeat was unexpected. Tokuslo truly lives up to his reputation—Zuo Zhao fell so easily, and my main force suffered heavy losses...”

Thinking of this, Tong Wa clenched his teeth, slamming his fist against the wall beside him. He knew Jiang Mingyu hadn’t abandoned the idea of attacking. This pause was merely temporary—once the enemy’s supplies were replenished, they’d launch an even fiercer assault.

And this time, how could he possibly defend Xiongzhou?

Tong Wa’s eyes grew distant, fixed on the setting red sun on the horizon. This battle would haunt him forever...

Watching the enemy slowly retreat, Tong Wa’s face darkened, his eyes burning with rage and hatred. He bit his lip hard, a cold smile forming. He turned and strode to the arrow tower, waving sharply: “Bring me my messenger!”

Moments later, a soldier with a small beard hurried over, standing at attention. Tong Wa sized him up, then ordered in a low tone: “You leave immediately. Exit through the west gate, take a boat down the Honghe Sea, and head straight to the capital for reinforcements. The fate of Xiongzhou hangs in the balance—move fast. You must depart within half a day!”

“Jiang Mingyu and Tokuslo’s strength far exceeds my expectations. Without urgent reinforcements, Xiongzhou won’t hold!” Tong Wa’s brow tightened, his voice growing urgent.

Originally, confident in his superior numbers, he’d never considered begging for help. But after today’s battle, he realized clearly: without reinforcements, Xiongzhou’s fall was only a matter of time.

“Go straight to Gebao City, beg His Majesty to dispatch a great army to rescue us! Make clear the dire situation here—not a moment to spare!” Tong Wa slammed his fist on the table, his tone now pleading: “We have a hundred thousand men trapped inside! If reinforcements don’t arrive soon, it’s over!”

“Understood, Commander. I’ll give it my all,” the soldier replied solemnly, bowing deeply.

“Then go—no more delays!” Tong Wa urged.

The soldier bowed again, turned, and sprinted down the stairs, vanishing at the west gate. Tong Wa watched him go, a flicker of worry and dread crossing his eyes. As he turned to leave, he glanced back at the distant enemy—and his gaze turned cold and sharp.

“Jiang Mingyu, wait for me! This time, even if I burn myself to ashes, I’ll fight you to the end!” He clenched his fists, voice hoarse: “I’ve sent word to Gebao City. When their hundred thousand troops arrive, you’ll have nowhere to run!”

With that, Tong Wa sneered, stomped hard on the stones beneath him, and strode off the wall. Only the flags, snapping fiercely in the wind, seemed to echo his grim smile...

Jiang Mingyu sat alone in his tent, quill in hand, marking the map. His eyes half-closed, brow furrowed, radiating heavy tension.

At that moment, footsteps crunched outside. Tokuslo strode in, bowing: “Your Majesty, I’ve ordered a tally of our losses.”

Jiang Mingyu didn’t look up. “Tell me.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Tokuslo stood straight. “Preliminary count: we lost nearly twenty thousand warriors in yesterday’s battle.”

Jiang Mingyu softly “hmm”ed, pausing his pen. He raised his head, eyes flickering with concern: “That means, including prior losses, we now have eleven thousand troops left. Tong Wa’s force is roughly the same.”

He frowned, speaking low: “Our strengths are evenly matched. But Tong Wa holds Xiongzhou—he can defend it. Capturing him alive won’t be easy.”

Tokuslo’s brow tightened. His face darkened, voice edged with anxiety: “Besides, Xiongzhou borders the sea—Tong Wa can supply grain by water. Our own grain is nearly gone! Feng Xi hasn’t returned from Guizhou for ten days! His slowness is unforgivable!”

Jiang Mingyu sighed, worried about Feng Xi’s possible misfortune. He shook his head: “Feng Xi is never careless with duty. His prolonged absence suggests trouble on the road. But even if our grain runs out, I’m determined—I will capture Tong Wa alive.”

Tokuslo’s eyes lit up. “Your Majesty, do you already have a plan?”

At that moment, urgent footsteps sounded outside. Jiang Mingyu and Tokuslo exchanged glances—both paled. He Jing staggered in, gasping: “Your Majesty! Scouts on the coast report: Tong Wa’s men boarded ships heading south—likely seeking reinforcements in the capital!”

Jiang Mingyu’s face darkened further. After a pause, he nodded slowly: “Tong Wa, after his heavy losses, has indeed sent for help. We must act fast—defeat him before reinforcements arrive.”

With that, Jiang Mingyu’s face hardened, his fist clenching tightly, knuckles cracking.

“Time waits for no one. Delay invites disaster. We must launch our plan immediately.”

Plan?

He Jing’s face showed a question mark.

“What plan?”

Jiang Mingyu didn’t answer directly. Instead, he ordered a soldier outside to bring in E Bu.

Before E Bu arrived, a fast horse from the south burst through the gate like a whirlwind.

Soon, a young man in commoner’s clothes strode forward and bowed respectfully.

“Your Majesty, Her Majesty has safely reached Qusheng. She sent me to report her safety.”

Jiang Mingyu nodded. “And how is Qusheng now? Is Yifei still safe?”

The messenger wiped sweat streaming down his face. “Your Majesty, rest easy. Qusheng, aside from heightened defenses against us, remains calm.”

“Her Majesty is well. She instructed me to inform Your Majesty that our spies have gathered substantial intelligence.”

“She only needs time to analyze it, then she’ll send it to your camp. Please wait patiently.”

Jiang Mingyu’s face showed faint anxiety; his eyes scanned the tent. When the messenger mentioned Yifei’s safety, his furrowed brow eased slightly.

The messenger was dusty, drenched in sweat—he’d ridden hard to reach them. He panted heavily, reporting what he’d seen on the road. Jiang Mingyu’s expression visibly relaxed. He nodded, gestured for a servant to bring tea, and motioned for the messenger to drink.

The messenger accepted the cup, gulped it down, then said: “Your Majesty, I’ve already placed watchers around Qusheng. Any change will be reported immediately.” His tone brimmed with confidence.

Jiang Mingyu nodded in satisfaction. He waved for the messenger to return quickly, adding: “Ensure Her Majesty’s safety at all times—if anything happens, return immediately to Jiangzhou!” The messenger bowed repeatedly, then turned—just as footsteps sounded outside.

The tent flap opened. E Bu strode in. He seemed unusually cheerful, smiling for once. Jiang Mingyu explained why he’d summoned him: “We now hold the ground before Xiongzhou. The enemy inside is spent. Time waits for no one—we must strike directly at Qusheng’s capital before they can mobilize!”

He Jing gasped in alarm: “Impossible! Qusheng’s defenders are strong—taking it will be near impossible. Better to besiege and wait, forcing them to break themselves!”

The tent flap was thrown open, and Ebu strode in. He seemed to be in good spirits today, a rare smile on his face. Jiang Mingyu, seeing him arrive, quickly explained the reason for summoning him. He spoke in a deep voice: “Our forces have taken the outskirts of Xiongzhou City; the enemy garrison is spent. Time waits for no one—we must launch our troops immediately and strike straight at Qusheng’s capital before the enemy can muster!”

Jiang Mingyu’s narrow eyes narrowed into slits, a sly smile spreading across his face like a cunning fox. He cleared his throat, signaling everyone to listen.

“I believe Tong Wa has already sent for reinforcements and won’t move rashly in the short term.” He scanned the room; all others held their breath, awaiting his strategy.

“Direct assault will cost us dearly. But I have a clever plan.” Jiang Mingyu paused dramatically. Tokuslo couldn’t wait: “Brother, just say it!”

His impatience made everyone laugh. Jiang Mingyu chuckled, cleared his throat again, then spoke slowly.

“I suspect Tong Wa knows our grain is nearly gone. My plan? We’ll exploit that very shortage.”

His cryptic tone deepened the mystery. Everyone exchanged glances, guessing his intent.

After a moment, He Jing spoke first: “Your Majesty’s plan is brilliant! If executed, Xiongzhou will fall!” His face lit with delight, voice full of praise. But the other two looked uneasy.

“Brother, you’re right—but if Tong Wa delays even a few more days, won’t we be trapped?” Tokuslo hesitated. E Bu nodded beside him, agreeing.

Jiang Mingyu was utterly confident. He shook his head: “Rest assured—if we show weakness, Tong Wa will never miss this chance.”

“If this were you, would you let such an opportunity slip?” he asked. Everyone understood. They nodded in unison, finally accepting his plan.

Outside, dusk fell. The last rays of the setting sun cast long shadows through the tent flaps...