Chapter 241: Defying Demonic Evil, Slicing Through Collapsing Armor
“Do not let anyone seize your authority, because of its clarity, follow its norm. Those who follow entrust it with virtue, those who oppose eliminate it with force.”
Xuan Chong silently recited this sentence from the Six Secrets.
As a military strategist, one must seize victory; but the standard of victory is not merely the slaughter of enemies.
In Eastern culture, the highest realm for a general is to pacify under heaven.
…Soaring into the air, raising the viewpoint…
Xuan Chong sat on the peacock and flew into the air to survey the four directions. The mountains and rivers in all four directions had become withered and yellow due to the great war here. It was not yet autumn, yet the land was a scene of desolation.
Xuan Chong: The Hao Army has become an obstacle to “pacifying under heaven,” so “do not let it seize your authority.” However, when the Evil Moon in the Sky begins to intervene, it becomes necessary to “eliminate those who oppose with force.”
The meaning is: the conflict with the Hao Army’s tens of thousands is an internal contradiction of the Xi Ren Realm; up to now, the Chong Army only needs to toss over a few steamed buns to lure large numbers of low-level soldiers from the Hao Army to surrender.
As for the Evil Moon, that is an external contradiction! When this thing tries to descend along humanity’s negative emotions and land as grotesque things; such “incompatible” things must be eliminated first.
If described using real-time strategy game checkpoints, right now, the standard of victory has changed from the single goal of “annihilating enemy troops” to “prioritize striking biochemical weapon manufacturing plants, ensure biochemical toxins do not leak,” while annihilating the remaining enemy army becomes the second goal.
Xuan Chong vaguely remembered an annoying intel officer from playing Red Alert in his previous life. After fighting a checkpoint for half a day, suddenly the mission changed at the end.
Now he also needed to change the combat objectives. Xuan Chong couldn’t help but thicken his skin.
…Four hours later…
At the place where Zhao Changhe’s army corps was besieged, following Xuan Chong’s order, a path was opened on the east side. Moreover, the Chong Army placed several baskets of freshly made steamed buns on the east side. The fresh aroma of the just-out-of-the-pot steamed buns wafted with the wind onto Zhao Changhe’s position.
In the end, a large group of people who had fainted from hunger in the encirclement, Zhao Changhe’s army corps, directly charged en masse toward the east side in an “offensive.”
As soon as they rushed up, they immediately dropped their sabers and spears and began grabbing steamed buns, including some devout believers who had been kneeling and praying with certain cultists in the army just a second ago—they all ran off now.
Whatever “Qing Bao Dao Venerable,” “Blood Dao Holy Lord,” “Life Realm Spirit Lord,” “Joyful Immortal,” all thrown aside. In the hearts of this crowd of defeated soldiers, “Steamed Bun Ancestor” came first.
The defeated soldiers were required to shout “Duke Zhen is benevolent and righteous!” every time they took a steamed bun; if they didn’t shout, they weren’t qualified to take the next one. And each bite was only dumpling-sized, not steamed bun-sized; whoever dared to take a big bite would get whipped by the Chong Army.
Note: These rules and restrictions were not because Xuan Chong wanted to hear praise, but to prevent them from choking to death. Eat a bite, shout a phrase, so it goes down bit by bit.
As wisps of praise songs drifted, the Evil Moon in the Sky immediately dimmed.
The faith in this Xi Ren Realm is just so without integrity. They only pray when there is “lack”; once the lack is filled, they immediately discard the idols without a care.
For the chaos space channel drooping downward, it was like the bait on a fishing line originally surrounded by a circle of fish; suddenly all the fish were scared away by the neighbor baiting.
…Popularity boiling, scattering in panic…
Due to the Hao Army’s main force spontaneously marching toward the east, while those giant soldiers blood-sacrificed were still left in the main camp.
In the large tent entangled with blood veins and muscles, the tent cloth bulged and twisted like a blood membrane.
These giant soldiers were now still semi-finished products and slow to run; the monsters whose own flesh had fused into these giant soldiers, seeing the people had all run away, angrily cursed.
The angry expressions on the human faces on the pottery figurine armor plates were just like: a small leader calling people to work overtime, but all employees pretend not to see the message after clocking out, the small leader fuming in frustration.
The things fused within tried to activate the giant soldiers for a final stand.
Compared to the other Hao Army people, these fools who devoutly believed in the four upper gods had thrown everything they had into it. Thus, these people stuck in the weapons roared and screamed, calling for people to come.
These cries and pleas after fusing into “demonic domain war machines” finally drew colleagues from outside the tent.
Zhao Changhe’s personal soldiers broke open the prohibition sealed with rune strips. These personal soldiers went mad upon seeing these giant soldiers; they bit their fingers, preparing to draw control runes on these huge pottery figurines.
The blood-colored pottery figurines “clacked” to life. The human heads peeking like maggots from the various damaged holes on the pottery figurines were all sucked in by the machinery upon activation. Blood tears flowed from the face of this huge pottery figurine giant soldier, and bloodstains appeared at the joints. The remaining holes turned into blood basins with sharp fangs.
…Evil dissipates…
On the Chong Army side, witnessing the Hao Army’s collapse after the gap opened, the last breath under high-pressure rule inside leaked out.
Xuan Chong looked at the Evil Moon in the Sky whose descent suddenly stopped, sneering; this trick Zhao Changhe pulled at the end was not presentable.
Red manipulates hatred to maintain cohesion; green incites despair, forcing individuals to slack off, thereby maintaining team stability; purple arouses short-sighted desires, using indulgence as a means to guide; blue is adept at scheming, creating checks and balances internally, producing changes only it understands.
All this requires a dark and powerful existence to execute; once a ray of light shines through the darkness, opening a door, those four lumps become garbage that all living beings avoid.
Xuan Chong issued orders for the cavalry to block the routed soldiers at twenty li, fifty li, and one hundred li in three places on standby for interception, not letting them regroup. (This distance was precisely calculated as the approximate three points where the enemy would regroup after routing; so send about a thousand troops to wait in advance there, conserve energy, don’t chase the whole way and tire the horses.)
As for the current battlefield, Xuan Chong stared at those twitching things in the main camp, ordering the artillery to prepare to strike the enemy’s mad creatures.
Those pottery figurine giant soldiers, lacking “move mountain spells,” faced surrounding connected barriers and trenches; the breakthrough points were only a few; keep watch, and they definitely couldn’t escape.
…The peacock silent on strange forces and disordered spirits…
In front of the Chong Army barriers, cannonballs bombarded the blood-flesh blurred monsters ahead—these were evil things from blood sacrifice.
But these ten-foot-tall blood-flesh brutes ultimately fell before the position.
These monsters looked incredulously at the blood under their feet, muttering: “Why can’t we absorb power?!”
On the way here, these blood-flesh brutes had seen the positions as a sea of blood; in these few days, fully eight thousand plus had died on the position, the blood never drying!
This “sea of blood” flowing on the land was invisible to ordinary people, but appeared under the blood moon’s illumination.
Moreover, when blessed, it was said clearly that as long as they entered bloody places, they could fight endlessly.
Earlier in the main camp’s blood sacrifice pools, they were impervious to sabers and spears; batches of soldiers were suppressed by them before the blood sacrifices.
Yet now, with such a vast sea of blood, why was it like a mirage?
They did not know that when they charged into the position’s one hundred pace range, Xuan Chong was watching them with a telescope. Wherever Xuan Chong’s gaze reached was their true appearance: each one emaciated and mad from eating people, not ten feet tall at all.
Under Xuan Chong’s “piercing” gaze, their skullcaps were blown off by bullets, arms broken by shots, then they fell to the ground, blood seeping into the sand.
Of course, before Xuan Chong observed, these people were still ten-foot-tall monsters; wounds from bullets healed quickly, and they could withstand two cannonballs.
In the officers and soldiers’ eyes, these ten-foot-tall monsters were initially impervious to sabers and spears, but suddenly became useless, crippled by one bullet. After being pierced by bullets, there was no massive corpse, just a shredded skinny corpse chunk—directly from white goose to quail (local allusion, describing the huge discrepancy between tax collectors’ seizures and their own accounts).
This Evil Moon blessed unit was like this before and after death: alive as if “data amplified,” dead becoming real.
The blessed blood soldiers were killed, and next the rumbling blood-clothed pottery figurines collapsed with a boom under Xuan Chong’s gaze.
In Xuan Chong’s observation, the curving falling trajectories were just like watching “Angry Birds destroy blocks” back then. Those pottery figurines already stuffed with bone shards were far more useless than normal ones under Xuan Chong’s focused gaze.
After the battle, all the giant soldiers Zhao Changhe brought and some blood-sacrificed fierce warriors turned into corpses and rubble.
Even weaker than before blood sacrifice, because non-blood-sacrificed soldiers at least had tactical movements, and the pottery figurine giant soldiers’ energy armor was still there—but after blood sacrifice, seen by Xuan Chong, they were all junk. So what was the point of the blood sacrifice?
Zhao Changhe watched helplessly as the elite of his army was completely wasted; he stood stunned, then feeling Xuan Chong riding the peacock in the distance staring at him, he fled.
…The dim red Evil Moon very angry…
Zhao Changhe ultimately fled the battlefield; Xuan Chong shook his head—if he were Zhao Kuo, Xuan Chong would respect him as a real man.
Twenty kilometers away, Fan Bridge; Wen Siting held the newly issued telescope constantly watching the west bank, like a wife awaiting her husband’s return. Of course, part might be to show off this collapsible long tube telescope.
This thousand mile mirror was from over ten years ago, specially given by Xuan Chong when they reported scouting situations in large numbers. The telescope’s lens material was like a biological eyeball, soft, and automatically zoomed according to the wearer’s intent.
Although now every mid-level officer in the Chong Army had one, the inscription on Wen Siting’s said produced in Shu Tian Calendar year 32, fewer than forty in the whole army. His number 16 was from Xuan Chong’s distribution to promising talents then—a super limited edition.
Zhang Hai waited under the tree; September’s blazing sun scorched his dark skin.
Zhang Hai: “Big brother, seen enough? Come down for some sour plum soup; I’ll watch for you.”
Wen Siting plucked a leaf, crumpled it into a ball and smashed it at this fool, continuing to watch with the telescope while scolding: “Less nagging, wait down there.”
Soon, Wen Siting said: “How are the brothers doing?”
Guan Shan: “Everyone followed your orders; thanks to getting up early at dawn to dig the trenches, we’re waiting in them. In this heat, not under tree shade, we’d all be sun-baked to death.”
Wen Siting: “The ballistae there, someone watching?”
Zhang Hai: “Someone watching, report every quarter hour; rest assured. No mishaps.”
The few chatted idly; Wen Siting saw distant dust, slapped his thigh: “Coming!”—he spotted the routed soldiers’ direction.
Zhang Hai: “Big brother coming, let’s assemble the brothers.”
Wen Siting: “What’s the rush? Still some time; let the brothers eat first, stuff their bellies full.”
…Leisurely waiting…
The distant Hao Army flags Wen Siting saw this time were on floating boats with sails and balloons, about twenty-five zhang high; followed by three stone lions, of course, and large numbers of panting jade-armored soldiers, even two camps of six to seven hundred Dragon Horse troops. This was all that remained of Zhao Shanhe’s elite troops.
Wen Siting immediately judged: The Dragon Horse Cavalry could charge to hundred-zhang height, but on the battlefield, charges were often at one-zhang height using ground effect. In long marches, actually like grasshoppers, flying a stretch then resting a stretch.
As for that floating boat, obviously loaded with supplies. Their own (Wen Siting’s) ground wooden ox and flowing horse war chariots could directly use vehicle-mounted ballistae on the battlefield to shoot these flying ships.
Wen Siting thought briefly, opened the map, and sent his mobile forces to deploy on the opposite mountain; at the time, mobile forces strike first, then main force presses to drive and rout.
On the other side, the Chong Army had finished a meal and started work.
This pre-battle fast food was very simple: boil a pot of water, slice sealed salted meat with a cleaver into the pot, then queue each person’s carried guo kui (thick dry noodle pancake) to be cut into easily dissolvable thin strips under the cleaver.
Each removed helmet padding to expose the iron lining inside; then ladle a bowl of scalding salted meat soup with a wooden bowl, cover the shredded pancakes with the helmet liner to steam for the time of one incense stick, then slurp them up.
For Xuan Chong, it wasn’t that he didn’t want to make canned food, but the military officers and soldiers thought this traditional military grain had better cost-performance.
The Chong Army side ate and drank their fill and began arraying to seize terrain advantage. In the array besides Wen Siting this advance commander, naturally there was also a batch of Dragon Horse Cavalry.
The Chong Army did not block one ferry crossing, but blocked three along the river, each with about eight hundred men; once the Hao Army’s crossing position was confirmed, the other two crossings rushed to support, relying on the Dragon Horse Regiment for messaging between.
Of course, besides messaging, these Dragon Horse Regiments also prepared another thing: in the just-finished meal, the only sheep killed was for these Dragon Horse troops.
At this time, this Dragon Horse Cavalry company’s company commander stood beside Wen Siting—he clasped fists to Wen Siting, then awaited orders.
Wen Siting was also very courteous to this Dragon Horse Cavalry captain, because if the mission had mishaps, he’d have to rely on this one’s Dragon Horse troops to patch.
Wen Siting’s this army, after three months of blood and fire tempering, had mostly integrated soldiers and officers.
With the signal gun firing, Dragon Horse Cavalry began prowling around the enemy army corps; the terrified Hao Army deserters, seeing this, huddled together, fearing pursuit, thus gathered toward Fan Bridge, but after hastily running two li, found the Fan Bridge garrison already in position.
…Skilled…
On the riverbank, the Chong Army firearm team’s officer looked at the troops arraying and waiting on the opposite shore, began loading. The paper bullets emitted a rancid ham oily clam smell.
Wen Siting looked at the crossing Dragon Guards infantry and intermixed stone lions, raised the signal gun, ordered his brothers and subordinates: “Fire Thunder Camp brothers, shoot armored soldiers; mind crossfire, ignore that lion.”
With the order given, troops adjusted formation, completed crossfire array deployment on both sides; clusters of bullets crossed from left and right sides shooting at Hao Army soldiers.
Due to side shooting, many bullets penetrated weak armor spots like waists.
However, the stone lion was unaffected and continued advancing; very few projectiles hitting only scratched.
But when the stone lion advanced to fifty paces of the forward position, ballistae were pushed out from the position; these ballista projectiles were not ordinary long piercing arrowheads, but explosive projectiles.
As explosive shells fired out, they opened directly after twenty paces flight, becoming chain shots; the chain shot ends still smoking, drawing circular smoke trails in spirals; of course not cut by iron chains, but warheads naturally wrapping.
And these warheads were coated with pine resin.
The stone lion was caught off guard, warheads wrapping its legs; then after the fuse burned out, with a muffled boom, the warheads wrapped on the jade lion exploded directly.
The Hao Army watched wide-eyed as their last remaining four stone lions after escaping were shattered.
Due to exploding close on these war giant soldiers, the stone lions instantly disintegrated into fragments; two lions didn’t shatter on the spot but were covered in dense cracks, surface sheen like a cracked mobile phone screen, flickering constantly as if glowing liquid leaked. Of course these stone lions also “crashed” like phones, unable to start.
Ultimately, facing rows of tripping hemp ropes on the ground, the Hao Army instantly despaired; under continuous shooting, many retreated; some discarded helmets and armor, kowtowed and surrendered.
Worth mentioning, if the just ballistae couldn’t effectively stick all charge bags on the stone lions, then rely on Dragon Horse troops charging to throw charge bags on the stone lions.
This is why, in the Chong Army, the elite level and requirements for Dragon Horse troops are extremely high. Because at key moments they must act as suicide squads.
Of course, if the ballista operation is brilliant, then in merit allocation, no need to give the bulk to Dragon Horse troops.—Just like WWII anti-tank teams: if able to snipe tanks remotely, no need to close insert blasting tubes.
…Fight over…
Wen Siting looked at the Hao Army retreating east, elegantly adjusted the military rank on his shoulder.
His order was: “No pursuit.”
He held the telescope, watching the west, awaiting the next wave of Hao Army rushing over. His position’s task was to trim every wave of Hao Army coming from the west. Not chase a specific batch relentlessly, too stamina-consuming.
If Zhao Shanhe’s earlier main force broke east, it was still “offensive,” as his army kept armor and weapons; but now after Wen Siting’s sweep, the nature completely became “discarding helmet and armor” rout.
