Chapter 1163: Before the Iron Formation

Two men had just climbed up when the thrown-down corpses smashed them right back off. At that moment, bowstrings thrummed and arrows tore through the air with a shriek — the archers had already closed to flat-trajectory range. No matter how high these fighters' martial skills were, there was no way to evade the several dozen arrows coming at their backs all at once. Some hid behind their comrades, but others had nowhere to hide, struck by arrows and collapsing dead.

Just then, another shouted command rang out ahead. The household troops of two companies leveled their long spears in unison, stepping forward and pressing in. The cavalry unit, after a brief regrouping, began accelerating into a charge. The fighters in the arena had no chance of resistance whatsoever. Leap and dodge all you like, let your techniques be as exquisite as they may — what use were any of them against armored long weapons arrayed in formation like this, especially with archers picking off the gaps?

The cavalry charged straight in. Some tried to leap up and strike the riders, only to be cleaved down by the long sabers from horseback. Fighting on flat ground, these mounted household troops might be inferior in raw strength or agility, but up on a horse, borrowing the mount's speed and momentum, a clash of weapons would shatter the opponent's blade outright and split the man along with it. Others attempted ground-rolling techniques, tumbling forward in hopes of slashing at the horses. They dodged the weapons from above, but by the time they reached the horses they had lost their balance, and were trampled straight into bloody pulp beneath the hooves.

Had these been ordinary men, or common village braves and government troops, they would have been nearly wiped out under the formation assault of the Zhao Character Camp's household troops. But the men in this arena were, after all, experts skilled in martial combat — every one of them outstanding. The arrows shot at their backs were blocked by their comrades' bodies, and the cavalry charge, not especially fast, was dodged as well. The arena's surrounding wall stood seven chi high; they could leap and climb it, but Zhao Character Camp household troops guarded the top. The only way out was to break through the household infantry companies.

Behind the household infantry companies, several large gates still stood open, and the guard there was very lax. But the two companies before them had already formed into a broad line twenty-five men across. As far as the eye could see were coldly gleaming spearpoints and sharp blades, like a forest of steel. Charging through would be no easy feat. Yet now, no matter what, they had to charge — if they waited for the cavalry to wheel around, or for more household troops to enter the arena, there would be even less chance of turning the tables and escaping with their lives.

But these two broad formations were just as troublesome. Never mind the steel thorns — those several dozen strong bows were a huge problem. Where had the Zhao Character Camp found archers capable of loosing such dense volleys of arrows, clearly firing in rapid succession without pause? Even ordinary Great Ming army archers could not do this. Many who had narrowly survived the cavalry charge turned this way and had just caught their breath when several arrows struck them.

Some were at a loss, hesitating. Ahead, the forest of spears; behind, the cavalry already wheeling around for another pass. They made a clean decision — simply threw down their weapons, dropped to their knees, and crawled outward, shouting without pause, "This humble one surrenders! This humble one surrenders!"

At this display, some were cut down without mercy by their own comrades. Others scrambled and tumbled their way to the base of the wall, where they crouched, not daring to move a muscle. Because some who crawled out tried to flee or make another move, and before they had run a few steps, arrows and thrown spears came down from the arena seating, killing them beyond dead. Those who surrendered lay prostrate on the ground exactly as the shouted orders demanded. They knew full well that even if they got out alive today, they would be scorned by their fellows and fellow villagers, and the officials would not tolerate them either. But they had thought it through clearly — staying alive came first. And some even thought to themselves: with the Zhao Character Camp this overbearingly powerful, throwing in their lot with them might not be a bad choice.

"Gentlemen, today we can only fight our way out! Fall into that villain Zhao's hands, and you'll wish you were dead!" someone bellowed. The men around responded raggedly, already too pressed to answer properly, ceaselessly swinging their weapons to deflect arrows. Men kept getting struck by arrows.

"Who is that?" Zhao Jin, up on the platform, asked.

Following Zhao Jin's pointing finger, Niu Jinbao answered with a somewhat dejected look, "That is Ying Cang, of Shaolin Temple."

A large man was whirling his iron staff and monk's saber like a windmill, charging with a roar toward the broad formation of long-spear household troops. Arrows were knocked aside by his whirling weapons. When he reached the spear formation, his weapons swept and coiled, parrying aside several thrusting spears. Ying Cang's strength was so immense that some spear shafts were snapped outright. In an instant he had pushed several steps forward, and the spear formation was pried open with a gap. The men behind him surged with morale and charged in right after. But at that moment, more long spears thrust at Ying Cang. He raised his iron staff to block with great force, deflecting three — the other two drove into his chest and belly, then pulled back and thrust in again.

Ying Cang, who moments ago had seemed a wrathful guardian deity, suddenly froze. Blood sprayed wildly forward. His whole body collapsed to its knees. He even managed to brace himself with the iron staff, trying to rise. He tried once — and a long spear accurately pierced through his throat, sending him pitching face-first to the ground.

The ground-rolling techniques that had been useless against the cavalry were now employed again. Some, just before reaching the spear blades, curled their bodies and rolled forward, slipping right through the gap beneath. Ahead were human legs — no matter how well armor covered them, some part was always exposed. But after rolling forward three chi, they heard only the whistle of wind overhead. By the time they thought to react, it was too late. They saw only the axe blade of a long halberd chopping down — dead center!

Within the household troop formations in the arena, long halberds rose and fell ceaselessly, chopping down, or stabbed downward at an angle without pause. The long halberd was two-thirds the length of a long spear, easier to handle, and capable of cleaving, smashing, hooking, and dragging. Anyone trying to come in from below had no chance at all.

"The Xuzhou bandits' cavalry has wheeled around!" someone shouted, his voice tearing with desperation. Everyone could read the situation before them: the cavalry was the hammer, the broad spear formation was the anvil. When hammer and anvil met, whoever was caught between would be crushed to pieces.

"Gentlemen, I give my life for the realm. Liu goes ahead first!" This man was clearly of noble lineage; in bearing and manner he had always seemed somewhat out of place among the other fighters. No one expected him to step forward now, volunteering to lead the charge. In this situation, not surrendering meant certain death — the only path to survival was still to break through this broad spear formation.

The swordsman surnamed Liu charged forward. When he collided with the spears, he actually leaped straight up — truly agile and light. He landed on a spear shaft and ran forward along it. The household trooper whose spear he stepped on was stunned and hurriedly shook it, but this Liu swordsman actually stepped onto yet another shaft. Had the Zhao Character Camp's long spears not been held level in such tight formation, he would never have found such an opening.

Two long halberds swept across at him. This Liu swordsman actually managed to jump while still on the spear shafts, dodging one and parrying the other with his sword. He was still three chi from the long-spear household troops ahead. But as the long halberd was parried aside, the household trooper gripping it twisted his wrist, and the spike on the halberd hooked back around. This time it did not catch the man, but snagged a corner of the swordsman's robe, halting his motion for an instant.

In that brief pause, an arrow drove into the swordsman's right eye, penetrating four cun into his brain. The swordsman dropped straight down. Standing behind the broad formation, Bayin nodded with considerable self-satisfaction and nocked another arrow. The cavalry, having wheeled back around, was already closing in.

"That move just now was rather interesting. Zhao Jing, you couldn't pull that off," Zhao Jin remarked teasingly to Wang Zhaojing, turning his head.

Wang Zhaojing's expression was somewhere between laughter and tears. He spoke up, "Big Brother, things here are more or less settled. Let Bingfeng go take charge of his side."

Zhao Jin nodded and said to Dong Bingfeng, "Just hold your position. You don't have enough cavalry in hand. Once I free up forces here, we'll plan further." "Rest assured, Big Brother. Big Brother, Third Brother, Xiaoyong — all of you be careful. Master Zhou, come with me." Dong Bingfeng clasped his fists in salute to accept the order, then called out to Zhou Xuezhi and his group, who had by now steadied their nerves.

Though considerably steadier, the bloody scene still left Zhou Xuezhi and the Cloud Mountain Trading businessfolk deeply unsettled. The men guarding Zhao Jin's side, by contrast, were watching with great relish, itching to jump into the fray themselves. Zhou Xuezhi was about to exchange some polite words, but Zhao Jin smiled and waved his hand.

As soon as Zhou Xuezhi left, Zhao Jin spoke again, "That swordsman may have been more agile and nimble than you, but in a face-to-face fight to the death, your odds of winning are greater. We brothers have been through life and death — we don't go in for so much flash."

By now, chaos was also breaking out in the arena seating. Watching the bloody slaughter in the arena below, like meat being ground, no one dared jump down. Moreover, along the inner ring of seating closest to the arena, fully armed household troops stood in tight formation, ready for battle. Some with quicker wits thought to jump from the arena's outer wall. Though it was two stories high, if they adjusted properly they might avoid injury and find a way out. And the Zhao Character Camp household troops did not seem to be stopping them. After all, the seating was sloped. Though the area had been divided and encircled, the troops had not pressed in — presumably because moving would disorder their ranks.

But when they ran up and were about to scale the wall, they saw the scene outside. Some leaped down howling; others shouted in despair, "The Xuzhou bandits have an ambush outside too!"

"Drive them down into the arena! Whoever they are, kill without mercy!" Someone barked the order down the line. The household troops shouted in acknowledgment, pressing forward one step with each command. But there were too many people in the seating. One step forward already left them with nowhere to flee. Another step, and no matter how they dodged within, they would be stabbed.

The slaughter in the arena had ended. Through the several wide-open gates, patrol troops came running swiftly out, binding the thoroughly surrendered men with ropes and dragging them away. Next, the household troops in the arena formed into square formations, archers scattered around the perimeter, and the cavalry massed into a single unit off to the side. This time they positioned themselves at the arena's center. The several open gates around were all shut.

Seeing this, those in the spectator seats despaired utterly. This meant they were going to be driven down to be killed. Suddenly someone shouted, "Master Jin! I'm Erqin of the Wang family! I was coerced! The Wang family was coerced!"

"You coward! At a time like this you still beg that Xuzhou villain for mercy? You think he'll spare you?"

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