Chapter 376: The Fall of Qusheng: Seventy Thousand Southern Frontier Soldiers Reduced to Dry Bones

Inside Qusheng City, a chilling atmosphere of armed conflict hung thick in the air.

Sunlight pierced through dense clouds, casting a blinding glare over the land.

The vast Jiang Army had encircled the entire city, sealing every exit with heavy troops.

The Southern Frontier soldiers, clad in armor, wore sneers and contempt on their faces.

Dust rose in thick clouds outside the camp as seventy thousand Southern Frontier troops were completely surrounded within their own encampment. Around the camp, enemy soldiers in heavy armor lined the perimeter, wielding spears, broadswords, and iron hammers, their blades glinting coldly in the sunlight, brimming with battle lust.

The Southern Frontier soldiers all wore grim expressions, gripping their weapons tightly, their eyes filled with fury and resentment. Trapped within their own city, they had no defense against the enemy, forced to watch as the Jiang Army steadily advanced outward. The air grew heavier with the stench of blood and the weight of killing intent, foreshadowing a brutal and bloody battle imminent.

Outside the camp, a dense forest of spear tips loomed, black and overwhelming, blotting out the light, stretching beyond sight. Distant hoofbeats and the crisp clang of swords being drawn echoed intermittently, thick with killing aura, while war drums rose and fell in relentless rhythm, unsettling the soul.

Many Southern Frontier soldiers gripped their weapons tightly, palms soaked in sweat. They knew they were outmatched, facing a hopeless last stand, yet their faces betrayed no fear, their resolve unshaken.

The war drums drew nearer, as if heralding approaching doom. Sunlight filtered through the dark clouds, glinting off the Southern Frontier soldiers’ armor with a chilling sheen. Birds and beasts fell silent in the sky; the earth stood still. Only the clashing of swords and spears echoed within the camp. This deathly silence seemed to foretell the coming storm of blood and slaughter.

Looking at the stunned man before him and the seventy thousand Southern Frontier soldiers gripping their weapons, Tuxesiluo spoke calmly: “You are Du Jianmu?”

The man in silver-white armor, his face twisted with malice, glanced around at the sea of black-clad Jiang soldiers, his face instantly paling into a dark, grim expression. He fixed his gaze on Tuxesiluo, fear deepening in his eyes, his fists clenching unconsciously, tendons bulging.

Tuxesiluo’s eyes were as deep as night, cold and mocking; his thin lips curled slightly, forming a sneer. He strode slowly toward Du Jianmu, his black cloak billowing in the wind like the wings of Death itself.

“My Jiang iron cavalry has surrounded your seventy thousand Southern Frontier troops, cutting off all escape—you have no choice but to surrender.” His voice was flat, yet each word pierced Du Jianmu’s heart.

Du Jianmu’s eyes burned crimson, veins of blood streaking his sclera, emotions churning violently within. His thick fingers gripped his longsword’s hilt so tightly, tendons stood out as if he meant to crush it. “You!” He gritted his teeth, his gaze slicing like a blade toward Tuxesiluo, “Come at me!”

“Tsk tsk.” Tuxesiluo sneered, raising a hand slightly. Tens of thousands of black-armored cavalry instantly raised their spears and broadswords, radiating killing intent. Infantry swarmed from surrounding hills, blades in hand, marching in perfect unison, as if ready to level the Southern Frontier camp to the ground.

Du Jianmu clenched his fists, tendons bulging, eyes blazing red, his fear transformed into rage and killing intent. He sized up Tuxesiluo, as if inspecting livestock awaiting slaughter. Tuxesiluo’s lips curled into a mocking smirk, his dark eyebrows lifting slightly.

Around them, tens of thousands of Southern Frontier soldiers held spears and halberds, surrounding the area completely. Sunlight glinted off their weapons, casting cold, unyielding light. Du Jianmu scanned the scene and realized his seventy thousand troops were fully encircled—his position dire. He clenched his teeth, muscles tensing, his lips twitching with suppressed fury.

“I know you’re a capable man. I don’t wish to kill you so easily. If you lay down your arms and surrender, I’ll spare your life.” Tuxesiluo tilted his chin slightly, his tone laced with contempt and threat. “Order your men to surrender immediately—I’ll guarantee your survival!”

“You’re Tuxesiluo!” Du Jianmu spat a mouthful of saliva. “I’ve long heard of you, that scheming, opportunistic worm!” His right hand slowly closed around the hilt of his waist sword, leaning forward as if ready to strike at any moment.

“Though you’ve taken the city by surprise today, I still have seventy thousand elite Southern Frontier troops under my command!” Du Jianmu’s battle lust surged. He turned to survey his soldiers, seeing each of them gripping their weapons tightly, poised and ready—his heart warmed.

As he spoke, Tuxesiluo’s gaze shifted abruptly—he drew his waist saber, its blade shimmering with cold light. With a swift slash, a blade of wind surged forth, hurtling straight at Du Jianmu’s face!

Du Jianmu’s eyes widened in shock—he raised his axe reflexively. A deafening clang rang out: his longsword was split cleanly in two. His knees buckled, nearly sending him to his knees. Cold sweat poured down his body, his face turning even paler.

“Heh...” Tuxesiluo chuckled softly, flicking his blade lightly before sheathing it. He stepped forward, towering over Du Jianmu. “Such crude martial skill dares to challenge me? General, this duel between us is destined to end only in death.”

Du Jianmu’s face was deathly pale, veins bulging on his forehead, beads of sweat rolling down. He bit his teeth so hard they trembled, his gaze burning like fire as he locked eyes with Tuxesiluo.

After a moment of silence, he suddenly threw his head back and let out a deafening roar, raising his arm: “Listen well—I am not that reckless fool Che Gang, nor will I kneel and surrender like him!” Du Jianmu’s voice rose sharply, thick with contempt. His eyes widened, fury boiling within, his thick eyebrows trembling.

Upon hearing this, Che Gang shuddered violently, veins swelling on his forehead, sparks of rage flashing in his eyes. He clenched his fists, knuckles white, seized Du Jianmu’s collar, and yanked him forward. Their faces were mere inches apart, Che Gang’s spittle splattering Du Jianmu’s cheeks.

“Du Jianmu, Wei Yangyao slaughtered my entire family without cause—he deserves to die a thousand deaths!” Che Gang’s voice boomed, each word bitten out with hatred. Du Jianmu, yanked off balance, staggered sideways, barely standing.

Du Jianmu wrenched his arm free, stepping back two paces, eyes blazing red, radiating uncontrollable rage and hatred. “Traitor who betrayed his lord—how dare you show your face? You have no shame!” He drew his waist blade, the tip aimed straight at Che Gang, his arm trembling.

“You, a traitor who surrendered to the Jiang Army, dare try to persuade my brothers to surrender?” Du Jianmu stepped forward, the blade’s tip now mere inches from Che Gang’s chest. “Let me tell you—loyal men of the Southern Frontier are not just me. None of us will listen to your treacherous lies!” His voice grew louder, filled with condemnation.

With that, he spun around, raised his longsword high, and shouted to the seventy thousand Southern Frontier soldiers behind him: “Brothers, we are all subjects of the Southern Frontier and His Majesty! Beneath our feet lies our land, behind us lie our parents, wives, and children!”

“If we retreat one step today, they will become slaves of the Jiang Army—do you accept that?” Du Jianmu’s voice rose sharply, his eyes blazing with battle lust, his tone rising and falling with passion. The next instant, the seventy thousand Southern Frontier soldiers roared back in thunderous unison: “We refuse! We refuse!” Each soldier gripped his weapon tightly, radiating killing intent.

“Fight to the death! Crush these Jiang dogs!” Du Jianmu roared again. The Southern Frontier soldiers echoed his cry, the scene erupting in fury. Only then did Du Jianmu turn coldly, sizing up Che Gang, his eyes filled with utter contempt.

“Even a common man has such spirit—Che Gang, how can you still stand here?” His tone dripped with scorn, his gaze beneath thick eyebrows sharp as blades. “Brothers, we fight to the death!” Before his words ended, he drew his sword and thrust it toward the heavens. The seventy thousand Southern Frontier soldiers, hearts ablaze with resolve, raised their weapons high, their battle cries shaking the sky!

This scene made even Tuxesiluo frown. The outcome was clear: the Southern Frontier troops would not surrender—they would be annihilated. But such a victory would stain the ground with innocent blood. Tuxesiluo surveyed Du Jianmu’s soldiers, sorrow rising within him—they were all young, strong men, not meant to die senselessly.

“That is wrong,” Tuxesiluo said, his tone calm yet resolute. “Faced with my Jiang iron cavalry, you are hopelessly outnumbered. Surrender is the wisest path. Since you are here, accept your fate—why waste your lives?” He spoke earnestly, hoping to dissuade Du Jianmu’s stubborn defiance.

Du Jianmu cursed: “We will fight until our last drop of blood! You think you can swallow us so easily? Don’t you fear total annihilation yourselves?”

Tuxesiluo sighed softly: “Truly foolish! My Jiang forces are invincible—what are you, mere tens of thousands, against us?”

Then he raised his arm sharply and roared to his tens of thousands of troops: “Order! Kill them all! Leave not a single survivor!”

The moment he spoke, the army surged with killing intent, every soldier gripping weapons tightly, ready to strike. Tens of thousands of gleaming swords, halberds, and bows were leveled at Du Jianmu’s Southern Frontier troops.

He Jing, instantly understanding, raised his command flag high and slashed it down. Behind him, fifteen thousand archers instantly nocked arrows, aiming at the dense crowd ahead.

“Fire!” He Jing’s face was expressionless as he issued the death order with cold calm.

Before his words faded, a dark cloud of arrows blotted out the sky—dense as rain, swift as lightning—raining down upon Du Jianmu’s troops. A chorus of agonized screams erupted instantly, followed by the hiss of arrows piercing flesh and the thud of bodies collapsing.

Du Jianmu felt the world spin. Deafening screams and wails filled his ears. He shook violently, focusing his gaze—his once-mighty Southern Frontier soldiers lay fallen, pierced by multiple arrows, blood pooling beneath them.

“Don’t panic!” Du Jianmu roared, forcing back his shock and pain. “Raise your shields! Charge! Fight them to the death!” His eyes burned crimson, his body trembling violently, yet he still rallied his men.

But the remaining Southern Frontier soldiers were shattered—no one raised their shields. They stared blankly at each other, eyes hollow, their fighting spirit gone. A second wave of arrows struck again. Unable to organize any defense, they could only await slaughter.

“Continue,” Tuxesiluo said, a cold smile on his lips, uttering a single word. A third wave of arrows arrived as promised—Southern Frontier soldiers could not dodge, casualties mounting rapidly.

When Du Jianmu came to his senses again, only a small remnant of his men remained. He clenched his teeth, eyes blazing red, resolved to fight to the end.

At this moment, Tuxesiluo still wore a calm, composed smile. He slowly raised his right hand—moonlight glinted on his blade as he pointed it forward. His voice, though quiet, carried unwavering resolve: “Ebu, lead three thousand iron cavalry through the enemy center. I want you to take Du Jianmu’s head—do not give him a single chance to counter.”

Ebu’s eyes blazed with cruelty, a sneer curling his lips. He drew his saber, its blade gleaming coldly, as if foretelling the coming bloodshed. “Follow me!” He shouted, cracking his whip hard against his steed. Three thousand iron cavalry roared like a storm, surging forward—wherever they passed, enemy formations shattered into chaos.

The iron cavalry swung their sharp sabers, each strike carving fatal wounds. Their towering warhorses became instruments of slaughter, trampling enemies into pulp. Ebu’s eyes burned red—he spotted Du Jianmu amid the carnage. “Du Jianmu, it’s time you died!” He let out a deafening roar, gathering all his strength, leaping from his saddle like a diving eagle toward Du Jianmu.

Du Jianmu’s face was ashen. He frantically drew his waist knife, barely blocking Ebu’s saber. The force sent him tumbling backward, crashing to the ground, unconscious. Ebu spun around, his eyes flashing with malice, roaring to his cavalry: “Kill them all! Leave no one alive!”

The iron cavalry grew even more frenzied, their sabers dripping with enemy blood, still unsated, carving a bloody path through the ruins of life. The Southern Frontier army had scattered like a broken hive, fleeing in all directions, no longer daring to fight.

“It’s our turn!” Li Goudan’s eyes gleamed with cruelty. He grinned at Che Gang: “Kill one more, save one more!” Che Gang nodded silently, his heart burning with rage—the fury to avenge his mother, to punish his wife and daughter’s killers! He swung his steel saber, leading the remnants of the army like ravenous wolves, pouncing on the fleeing enemies.

With every enemy he cut down, Che Gang heard his mother and family’s dying screams. His eyes turned blood-red, his blade’s original gleam lost beneath layers of congealed blood. A Southern Frontier soldier raised his sword to block—before he could react, Che Gang severed his carotid artery, spraying blood across his face. But Che Gang felt nothing—he would etch this rage and hatred into the flesh of his enemies!

Li Goudan slashed off another enemy’s head, his waist saber glowing red-hot from relentless swings. His grotesque face was twisted with glee and cruelty, like a beast feasting. “Hahahaha!” He laughed loudly—each kill felt like releasing years of pent-up bitterness.

Tuxesiluo stood calmly to the side, watching the one-sided massacre. A cold smirk curled his lips as he remarked: “So-called Southern Frontier elite? Pathetic. This battle was too easy.”

Du Jianmu desperately tugged his reins, trying to flee the slaughter. But Ebu had caught up—he hurled his saber through the air. Before Du Jianmu could react, he was split cleanly in two, blood spraying in all directions.

Ebu drew his curved saber, swung it in a circle—and Du Jianmu’s head flew off. “Your commander is dead! Still resisting?” He stood atop his steed, his long hair whipping in the wind, his expression proud.

The Southern Frontier soldiers froze, faces pale, weapons trembling in their hands. Ebu’s eyes flickered with disdain. He roared: “If you won’t surrender, kill them all!” Before his words ended, the iron cavalry charged, and the Southern Frontier soldiers were swiftly cut down, becoming corpses.

At the third watch, Li Goudan finally severed the last Southern Frontier soldier’s head. The ground was piled high with corpses, blood flowing like rivers, splattered blooms staining the earth crimson.

Tuxesiluo stood motionless, his gaze straight ahead as he issued his order: “Che Gang, lead your men into the city. Hunt down every remaining Southern Frontier survivor—leave not one alive.” He knew Che Gang’s hatred for Wei Yangyao made him the perfect man for this task.

Che Gang’s face was blank, but his eyes burned with furious flame. He longed to personally slaughter every soul connected to Wei Yangyao. At this moment, he was blinded entirely by hatred, radiating killing aura, desperate to vent his rage upon the blood of Southern Frontier remnants.

At this moment, Tuxesiluo remained composed, even a hint of triumph on his face. He stood atop a height, overseeing the battlefield, giving orders calmly and emotionlessly—as if the bloody carnage before him had nothing to do with him.

Li Goudan wiped the blood from his face, revealing yellow teeth in a cruel grin. “Understood! I’ll take charge of Qusheng’s defenses!” He patted his broad chest, promising with a swagger, then strode out of the camp. As a seasoned veteran, this kind of city assault and looting was his specialty.

Tuxesiluo watched Li Goudan depart, his stern expression finally softening. He turned slowly to He Jing, his tone no longer rigid but carrying a touch of concern: “He Jing, immediately tally the casualties. I need exact numbers before tonight.” He Jing, a civil official unlike the brutish Li Goudan, bowed deeply, respectfully replying: “Yes, sir. I’ll see to it at once.” He carefully directed several trusted subordinates, carrying ledgers as they moved through the camp, counting the dead and wounded.

Once He Jing’s figure vanished into the ranks, Tuxesiluo turned his gaze to Ebu. Perhaps recalling Ebu’s fierce combat, a faint smile touched his lips, his tone now tinged with praise: “Ebu, return to camp immediately and welcome my elder brother into the city. Remember—do not fail.” Ebu’s face still bore the fever of battle; he replied at once: “Sir, rest assured—I’ll go fetch him now!” He whipped his steed hard, shooting off like an arrow loosed from a bow.