Finest Servant

Chapter 521

Chapter 521 The Blood-Red Sunset

At the distant horizon, a whirlwind of sand filled the sky. Countless Turkic steeds galloped like flying arrows, darting across the desert like shooting stars. The hooves pounded the earth, shaking it to its very core.

The cavalry on horseback wore fur armor and fur hats. Their eyes, deeply set, gleamed with a wild blue hue. Their pointed noses conveyed the indomitable spirit characteristic of the Turkic people. The cavalries' faces were flush with excitement and greed. Gleaming scimitars were held aloft in their robust arms, glinting with a cold light in the sunlight.

The Turks had arrived! The sky was filled with sand as if a sudden cloud had descended from the heavens. They were several times faster than anyone had imagined. The thunderous scene of ten thousand warhorses neighing and galloping across the desert was heart-stoppingly magnificent.

The earth-shattering noise seemed to shake Lin Wanrong's heart out of his chest. He gazed into the distance where clouds, sand, warhorses, and men blurred into one, filling the desolate scene with an unparalleled sense of awe. No matter how great you were, you'd feel utterly insignificant in the face of such overwhelming power.

Lin Wanrong's eyes were wide open, his face flushed red. Blood surged through his veins, gradually heating up.

"Brothers, get ready—" Du Xiuyuan swung his long blade, and tens of thousands of Great Hua soldiers swiftly took their positions. Their faces were solemn, tinged with a hint of nervousness. Those who were entering the battlefield for the first time held their spears with a faint tremble.

Scouts hurriedly reported from all directions, filling the air with a palpable tension. Great Hua's first battle was finally about to begin!

At the forefront, Lin Wanrong found himself lost in the moment. All he could hear were the thunderous hoofbeats; all he could see were the gleaming scimitars of the Turkic warriors. Even the most cowardly person would feel a burning surge of courage in this uncertain moment between life and death.

Forty miles, thirty miles, twenty miles... The Turks' myriad iron horsemen closed the distance at an almost unimaginable speed. Gradually, the sounds grew louder, and the sand turned the air within ten miles into an impenetrable fog. Vaguely, the manes of warhorses and the fur hats atop the Turks became clearly visible.

"The Turks are ten miles away—" A shout from the scout up front tightened everyone's hearts instantly. Soldiers stared into the distance, their grips so tight they seemed ready to crush the hilts of their blades.

"Five miles—" Lin Wanrong held his breath. Time seemed to freeze. He could no longer hear any sounds, only the sight of the Turkic warriors' fangs, so close they seemed within reach.

Dust swept across his face; sand crept into the corners of his mouth, leaving a bitter taste. Lin Wanrong spat out a mouthful of saliva, only to find to his astonishment that the distant cloud of Turks seemed to slow down. The hoofbeats grew more sparse.

After a short moment, the boundless cloud seemed to come to a sudden stop. The neighing of the steeds ceased; only a few sparse hoofbeats reached their ears. Astonishingly, the Turkic horsemen had gradually halted their gallop. Only the sneezes of the horses contributed to a subdued rumble, echoing in the ears of the Great Hua soldiers.

Tens of thousands of cavalries who could stop on command, as could their horses—perfectly coordinated, incredibly efficient, impeccably uniform. They halted a mere two or three miles from Wuyuan City, proving just how formidable the Turkic horsemen truly were.

Lin Wanrong's heart sank as he gained a clearer understanding of the fighting capabilities of the nomads.

"Why have the nomads suddenly stopped?" Du Xiuyuan, standing beside him, furrowed his brows and asked, "Could it be that they've noticed something unusual?"

Lin Wanrong's expression was as still as water, and he slightly shook his head, allowing the wind and sand to pelt his face. The desert, which moments before had been filled with the thunderous sounds of hooves, suddenly grew eerily quiet. The neighs of fine horses and the rustling sounds of fluttering flags seemed inconsequential in the ears of all the soldiers. The battlefield had fallen into a deathly silence, where even the sound of a dropped steel needle could alert both sides.

Lin Wanrong leaped onto the highest mound of earth and took a long bamboo-made megaphone. Facing the distance, he shouted, "Turkic whelps, listen well! I am Lin San, the vanguard marshal of a million lions from the right flank of the Great Huá Empire! Where is Nurzhan?"

He shouted with all the strength he could muster, and his voice traveled far through the megaphone. Amidst the swirling winds and sands, there was an indomitable air of valor.

Opposite him, the Turks remained silent. No one responded to his shouting, but the glint of malicious intent in their eyes shot through the desert winds and sands, aiming straight at Wuyuan City.

"If Nurzhan has already arrived, given the Turk's aggressive nature, he would not cower. It appears he must still be among the rear troops and has not yet reached the front lines," Du Xiuyuan analyzed calmly, standing beside him.

Lin Wanrong nodded and yelled again, "You Turkic scoundrels who dare to commit crimes and invade our Great Huá territory, slaughtering our people! Heaven shall not tolerate this. In the name of the right flank marshal of the Great Huá lions, I command you to retreat immediately! Furthermore, let the Turkic Khan write a letter of surrender and deliver it to our Great Hua Empire, paying tribute year after year, and kowtowing to our Emperor. If you fail to heed this warning, you shall be doomed to never return, your bodies crushed to pieces!"

There was a sudden commotion in the ranks of the Turks across the field. The warhorses started to neigh incessantly. Evidently, someone had translated his words, and the Turks were furious. The sound of hooves from the opposing side started to grow louder, unsettling the stillness.

Suddenly, a heavy thud of hooves broke the silence on both sides. The neat formation of Turks slowly parted, and a row of horsemen came charging from behind their ranks. Leading them was a large flag bearing a clearly visible wolf's head with its mouth wide open. Beneath the flag was an imposing horse, and astride it sat a Turk with deeply set eyes and a high nose bridge. He was much larger than the average Turk, wielding a heavy spiked club in his hand. His curled hair and fierce eyes glinted with a chilling light. Judging by his appearance and aura, this had to be Nurzhan, the vanguard of the Turks.

The Turk was shouting incoherently, not even requiring a megaphone to make himself heard, his voice was terrifyingly loud.

Lin Wanrong could not understand what the man was saying. Du Xiuyuan quietly translated, "General, that is Nurzhan. He says he wants to duel you, capture you alive, and use your heart and lungs as accompaniment to his wine."

Fury surged within Lin Wanrong. He shouted into the megaphone, "Nurzhan, you ignorant brat! You dare speak nonsense in my Great Huá territory? If you've got the guts, duel with the ten thousand men of my Great Huá! Grandpa Lin will definitely show you what I'm made of today!"

On the other side, it was evident that they too had an interpreter. Nurzhan bellowed loudly, his eyes bulging like bronze bells. With a sweeping gesture of his shaggy hand, he shouted something unintelligible in the Turkic language. Instantly, the Turkic brigade exploded into action, like a burst heap of sand. Countless horses neighed in unison and charged forward.

The speed of the Turkic warhorses was astonishing, and the riders had grown up on horseback, mastering every move. In the blink of an eye, a storming dark cloud rolled in again, with countless arrows flying thick as locusts. The thundering hooves made the soil of Wuyuan City tremble, nearly bursting eardrums. Their momentum and aura surpassed what had been witnessed before.

Lin Wanrong's heart pounded wildly. He roared, "Brothers, prepare—"

A scout from the front shouted, "The nomads are three miles away—"

"The nomads are two miles away—"

"Fire the cannons!" Lin Wanrong drew his sword swiftly, its bright gleam piercing the sky. He roared mightily, his voice resonating heroically amidst the sound of galloping hooves.

Boom! Boom! The two cannons that Du Xiuyuan had positioned within the city unleashed their fury, their tongues of flame reaching far into the distance. The cannonballs whistled through the air in a beautiful arc, landing amidst the Turkic cavalry. Several Turkic horses were blown to bits, flames erupted sky-high, and dozens of nomads vanished in a sea of fire.

It was as if the blood and fire had provoked the savagery of the Turkic forces. Their advance didn't falter for a second. They marched over the scattered remains of horses and comrades, shouting incomprehensible slogans. Tens of thousands of horses surged like rolling dark clouds, racing toward Wuyuan City with electrifying speed. The sight was so overwhelming that it seemed to change the color of the world.

The cannons roared continuously, their barrels growing hot. But compared to the barbarians, this firepower was but a drop in the bucket. The Turkic advance was unable to be halted, the nomads left dozens of corpses behind but broke through the artillery's blockade, closing in on Wuyuan City.

Three hundred feet, two hundred feet, one hundred feet—the arrows of the barbarians whistled as they fell near the city walls.

"Fire arrows!" Du Xiuyuan swung his long knife, and eight hundred fire archers drew their longbows, aiming at the approaching riders. A thousand fire arrows were unleashed at once. Those at the forefront of the Turkic forces were knocked off their horses, their clothes instantly ignited. Screams filled the air. Yet those who followed were undeterred, quickly advancing past their injured comrades and arriving at the city gates. Drawing their bows, they aimed for the top of the walls.

"Repeating crossbows!" Lin Wanrong knocked an arrow out of the air and yelled decisively.

Immediately, crossbowmen stepped forward, taking the place of the fire archers. These repeating crossbows had been carefully modified by Xu Zhiqing, their shooting precise and rapid, making them especially suited for city defense. Countless repeating crossbows fired like a swarm of locusts at the approaching nomads.

The Turkic forces were just a few dozen feet from the city walls when they were met by a devastating volley of crossbow bolts that knocked men and horses off their feet. The screams were endless, and the damage from this volley surpassed even that of the cannons and rockets.

Suddenly, a few loud cries emanated from within the Turkic formation, and four to five thousand heavily armored riders broke out like the wind, swooping directly toward the top of the city walls. These Turkic heavy cavalries were clad in thick armor, their bodies hugging the manes of their horses, their faces even more ferocious. They moved at an even faster pace and reached the base of the city walls in the blink of an eye, leaving the crossbowmen no time to aim and fire.

This was the moment for a battle of blades! A Turkic heavy cavalryman vaulted over the earth wall on horseback, swooping right over Lin Wanrong's head, becoming the first Turkic invader to breach Wuyuan City.

With a loud cry, Lin Wanrong swung his blade; amid a spray of blood, the Turkic warhorse was cleaved in two by his single stroke. The Turkic heavy cavalryman crashed heavily onto the ground. Lin Wanrong swiftly approached, mustering all his strength to thrust his blade into the chest of the nomad. A gush of blood soared skyward, spattering on his helmet and face. The hot, fresh blood stimulated him, filling him with a sensation of intense, fiery vitality.

Lin Wanrong let out a prolonged roar, pulling his long blade from the chest of the nomad. The air filled with the scent of blood. "Charge!" he shouted with all his might, inspiring a heroic cry that resonated like a mighty river.

"Charge!" His soldiers, their passions inflamed, burst out from their cover, engaging in brutal combat with the Turkic heavy cavalry.

The Turkic men were indeed as fierce as their reputation suggested—excellent horsemen with superb swordsmanship, tall and strong, straightforward in their approach. Each stroke of their blades carried the weight of a thousand pounds.

These ten thousand elite troops were all handpicked by Lin Wanrong from Shandong, and were unrivaled in their prowess within Great Hua. However, when pitted against the Turkic heavy cavalry, the difference was clear. Throughout the fierce battle, disparities in physical strength and experience gradually became evident.

The Turkic swordsmanship was straightforward and lethal, while the soldiers of Great Hua fought with fervor, fearlessly confronting death. Their unparalleled confidence compensated for their physical disadvantages.

Both sides clashed fiercely, resulting in heavy casualties among the Turkic forces and the fall of countless Great Hua warriors, their blood soaking the desert sand.

Everywhere, blades glittered; everywhere, trails of blood marked the ground. In that moment, the small city of Wuyuan became a point forever remembered in the history of conflicts between Great Hua and the Turkic forces.

A piercing cry rang out as a Great Hua soldier, blind with rage, threw aside a leg that had been severed by the enemy. Like a blood-soaked god of war, he hopped on one leg and pinned a Turkic man beneath him, biting fiercely at the Turkic soldier's face. The nomad let out a savage roar, his curved blade piercing the Great Hua soldier's chest and gutting him.

"You bastards—I'll curse your ancestors!" Lin Wanrong roared, his eyes narrowed like a ferocious lion. Leaping forward, he aimed his blade at the head of the nomad, hacking away furiously. His crazed roar echoed throughout Wuyuan City. "Scum, I'll hack you to death! All you nomad dogs, come at me!"

Seeing his manic behavior, his high-ranking officers were startled and quickly surrounded him for protection. Du Xiuyuan cut off the head of a nearby nomad and rushed to his side, shouting, "General, General!"

Lin Wanrong's fingers trembled as he gently closed the eyes of the fallen soldier. "Brother Du, how many nomads have infiltrated Wuyuan?" he asked in a voice tinged with bloodshot eyes.

Dodging a flying arrow, Du Xiuyuan responded, "At least half of them, General."

Lin Wanrong surveyed the scene, his eyes taking in the sandy expanse of Wuyuan City, now stained red with blood. Countless men lay strewn across the desert—standing, lying, entangled with their enemies. Not a single body was whole; not one man could rest his eyes in peace. The young bodies seemed to merge into the desolate landscape, becoming one with the vast desert.

Lin Wanrong clenched his teeth until they nearly cracked, his eyes red and swollen. Casting a glance at the Turks who were flooding into the city from a distance, he suddenly let out a sky-piercing howl, "You mongrels, your blood will pay for this! Du Xiuyuan, signal the retreat of our entire army—"

"All troops retreat!" Du Xiuyuan's trumpet call resounded, and the remaining soldiers of the Great Hua Empire roared in unison. Gathering all their strength, they repelled the Turks before them with a swing of their blades, leaped onto their horses, and turned to flee the city.

Seeing the retreat of the Great Hua troops, the Turkic cavalry blew their long horns, rallying their entire camp. The sound of hooves intensified from beyond the city walls as a multitude of Turkic horsemen swarmed in, chasing the retreating Great Hua soldiers through Wuyuan City.

Lin Wanrong and his generals Gao Qiu and Hu Bugui stayed behind till the end. Only after Gao Qiu had cut down five Turks did Lin Wanrong grit his teeth and growl, "Brothers, let's go!"

The three of them mounted their horses, arrows whizzing past them, aimed directly at their backs. Clearly, the Turks had recognized the man who had been shouting commands earlier as "Lin San, the Right Marshal of the Great Hua's Lion Army," and their cries of excitement were incessant.

The remnants of the Great Hua forces raced ahead, with countless Turks pursuing them from behind. Across the vast desert, the two armies stretched out in a long, spectacular line.

Turning his head, Lin Wanrong saw an overwhelming mass of Turkic cavalrymen surging after them like a swarm of angry bees. He suddenly wheeled his horse around, "Du Xiuyuan, fire the arrows!"

This was the moment Du Xiuyuan had been waiting for. With a look of steely resolve, he took out his signal arrows.

"Whizz—whizz—" Two sharp whistles tore through the sky. Amidst the swirling desert sands, several flares burst forth like beautiful fireworks.

Lin Wanrong clenched his fists, quietly waiting for that crucial moment. Each second felt painfully slow.

"Boom—boom—" The sounds were music to Lin Wanrong's ears. As the signal arrows landed, Li Sheng's cannons unleashed their fiery roars. Blasts of fire shot towards Wuyuan City.

The retreating Great Hua troops involuntarily halted, excitement lighting up their eyes as they gathered behind Lin Wanrong. All eyes were on Wuyuan, where plumes of thick smoke were rising into the sky. However, there was no expected burst of flame. Just as they were growing anxious, several mournful howls resonated; the cannons from the Divine Machine Unit seemed almost guided, hitting the very center of Wuyuan City.

A ground-shaking "boom" echoed as blinding flames scorched the eyes; Wuyuan City erupted like a string of fireworks. Explosions were continuous, the earth trembling. From a distance, Wuyuan looked like a gigantic mushroom, lifted into the sky by one blast after another. Countless horses, countless Turks, were sent soaring into the heavens, transforming into ethereal specters. Their screams, their shouts—all were drowned out by the overwhelming sound of explosions.

The Turkic warriors who had pursued them out of the city were stunned. They looked back at the rising swirls of dust and blood-mixed clouds in horror, even their warhorses trembling beneath them. For the first time, they felt a sense of dread.

Explosions and flashes of fire, one wave after another, seemed to split the vast desert in two. The earth-shaking sensations caused everyone to glance sideways.

Lin Wanrong's face was calm, his eyes as cold as the ice and snow of the Tianshan Mountains. He took a deep breath and forcefully drew his long blade, his voice hoarse as he roared, "The time for revenge has come! Don't give the Turkic people any chances. For our fallen brothers—kill them all! Charge!"

"Kill them all! Charge!" The soldiers who had just experienced bloody battle erupted in pent-up anger and resentment. The pitiful state of their brothers-in-arms, who were like family, further fueled their killing intent. At this moment of turning defeat into victory, only fresh blood could properly honor their fallen comrades. The remnants of the Great Hua forces turned their horses around, their eyes bloodshot, charging like ferocious wolves straight toward the Turkic cavalry.

Lin Wanrong led the charge, the wind howling past him on either side. The faces of his fallen brothers flashed before his eyes, and he remembered nothing else. All that occupied his mind was a single word—kill! Kill! Kill!

He didn't know where he got the strength, but he plunged into the midst of the Turkic soldiers, slashing wildly. No technique, just a single cleave! A strange yet powerful force seemed to make him an invincible warrior for that moment. The blood before him looked like a red rain in the desert, washing away a century of humiliation for Great Hua.

"Brother Lin has gone mad—" Gao Qiu muttered, his eyes moist. Suddenly, he yelled, "I'm going mad too!" He charged into the enemy ranks with his blade, standing back to back with Lin Wanrong. Blades rose and fell; one after another, Turkic men were cut down beneath their horses.

This group of retreating soldiers suddenly transformed, as if reborn. One by one, they charged fearlessly toward the Turkic cavalry, their spirit and strength even astonishing the highly combat-effective Turkic warriors.

"Charge!" Dust rose from the south. Tens of thousands of dragon flags fluttered high in the wind. A thunderous sound echoed as hundreds of thousands of elite Great Hua troops surged like a rolling wave of desert sand. Leading the charge was Hu Bugui, his horse swift as the wind. The bloodlust in his eyes chilled even his own men.

The moment to wash away a century of humiliation for Great Hua had come.

Though the Turkic warriors were formidable, the troops who had left the city were now stranded. Faced with countless fierce and hungry Great Hua elites yearning to cleanse their shame, even their considerable fighting skills could only lead to their obliteration in the endless sands.

In a daze, his arms already swollen and sore, Lin Wanrong could think of nothing else but swinging his blade. Together with Gao Qiu and Du Xiuyuan, they spearheaded the charge, cutting through all resistance. Their battle robes were already soaked through with blood, rendering their appearance unrecognizable.

Through countless life-or-death struggles and near-death experiences under enemy blades, he didn't know why, but that final, critical strike always seemed to come from him.

The timely arrival of Zuo Qiu's left flank and Xu Zhiqing's central army had cut the chasing nomads who had left the city into several segments, completely encircling them. The grand strategy for this battle was already set. The Turkic vanguard of 60,000 had already lost 15,000 within the walls of Wuyuan City. The majority of the remaining 20,000 outside the city had been annihilated, while a small portion continued to resist in the corners. However, they were no longer a concern. The only slight regret was that more than 20,000 Turkic cavalry, including their vanguard leader Nurzhan, hadn't managed to enter the city in time. Amidst the flames of Wuyuan City, Nurzhan looked at the brutal fighting across from him, not daring to advance any further.

"Exhilarating, exhilarating!" Hu Bugui's face flushed with excitement; his armor was already soaked in blood, and his steel blade was chipped. He gestured exuberantly, "I've fought for so many years, and this is by far the most exhilarating. General Lin, you have no idea! I've never seen the Turks look so desperate. Forty thousand! Forty thousand nomads! Is there anything more exhilarating than this?"

Annihilating over 40,000 of the Turkic elite in the first battle was undoubtedly a significant victory that would resound through the ages. There was no doubt about that.

Lin Wanrong was mentally and physically exhausted. He sighed lightly, "Brother Hu, how many casualties did our army suffer?"

Hu Bugui's expression dimmed, "Although we had a significant advantage in this battle, the nomads were genuinely fierce fighters. We lost over 10,000 men, of which more than 6,000 were our brothers stationed at Wuyuan."

Lin Wanrong clenched his teeth, his eyes reddening in an instant. Both Gao Qiu and Du Xiuyuan were silent, filled with sorrow.

"Brother Hu, how much time before the Turkic reinforcements arrive?" He sighed deeply, his voice hoarse.

Hu Bugui replied, "Roughly four hours. That Nurzhan across from us is waiting for their reinforcements. Advisor Xu instructed us to swiftly clean up the battlefield and withdraw immediately to avoid direct confrontation with the Turkic main force."

Lin Wanrong nodded and looked around. In the aftermath of the battle, the area was in complete disarray, shrouded in the smoke of gunpowder, scattered with flying sparks, and soaked in vivid blood that had dyed the desert red. Far away, long planks were lined up, underneath which dry twigs were arranged. The bodies of the fallen soldiers were neatly laid out, and tens of thousands of troops stood quietly beside them. Staring at the comrades with whom they had shared life and death, their eyes were shimmering with tears.

Lin Wanrong clenched his fists, "Have the remains of our brothers been gathered?"

"All those who died outside the city have been brought together; their remains have also been arranged." Hu Bugui's nose felt sour, "As for those inside Wuyuan City, they are likely lost forever."

The flames of Wuyuan City served as the best tribute to them. Lin Wanrong sighed and slowly walked toward the bodies of the fallen soldiers.

Faces of the young flashed before him, some familiar and some not. Although their appearances had been tidied up, the ghastly sight of their deaths was still shocking. They were husbands to wives and children to parents; how many people were praying day and night, hoping for their safe return? Little did they know that the men they had been yearning for had turned into a pile of bones deep in the desert under the setting sun.

Lin Wanrong felt as if his heart was being twisted, tears silently falling from his eyes. He knelt down quietly, followed closely by Du Xiuyuan, Gao Qiu, and Hu Bugui. Tens of thousands of soldiers followed their commander, tears streaming down their faces as they knelt and did not rise.

After a prolonged silence, Du Xiuyuan spoke softly, "General, it's time. We cannot let the remains of our brothers fall into enemy hands. Please grant them their last journey."

Lin Wanrong took a deep breath and accepted the torch from Du Xiuyuan's hands. With gritted teeth, he hurled it onto the pile of dry branches. A roaring fire spread slowly from near to far, consuming the young faces lying there. From then on, deep in the vast desert, tens of thousands more heroic spirits came to rest.

Hu Bugui asked, "General, we are about to retreat, but we've seized tens of thousands of the enemy's warhorses. Due to the urgency of time, there are still over 5,000 that are hard to tame and cannot be taken with us right away. What should we do with them?"

"What should we do?" Lin Wanrong hummed, a cold light flashing in his eyes. "Not a single needle, not a single blade of grass should be left for the Turks!"

Hu Bugui looked at him, puzzled. Lin Wanrong's fists clenched with a grinding sound, "Those untamable Turkic horses—kill them all on the spot. Let all our soldiers do it. If the Turks are ruthless, we must be even more so!"

"Good, let it be so! Our great nation suffered before because we were too weak!" Hu Bugui shouted, his eyes gleaming.

Indeed, the reputation of the Turkic warhorses was not unearned. Despite the horrors of war they'd been through, their strides remained steady, their hoofbeats high-spirited. Yet, their wild nature made them difficult to tame quickly.

Gazing at the thousands of neighing Turkic warhorses before him, Hu Bugui's face flushed with excitement. To slaughter the enemy's warhorses as if chopping cabbages was something he had long dreamed of, and it would show the Turks the ruthlessness of their great nation.

"Prepare—" Hu Bugui's eyes glinted with ferocity, and with a strong swing of his arm, he shouted, "Cut—"

"Cut—" Tens of thousands of soldiers roared in unison. The 5,000 Turkic horses neighed loudly for the last time, their heads severed from their bodies in an instant. The sky was stained red by the gushing blood, reflecting the setting sun.

Lin Wanrong mounted his horse, looked at the passionate soldiers before him, and felt a heavy sense of responsibility well up within him.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

"Go—" He yelled, turning his horse and leading the way. Tens of thousands of soldiers mounted their horses and followed their commander, vanishing gradually into the deep recesses of the desert.

The severed heads of 5,000 Turkic warhorses lay there, their blood drying up. Under a sunset shrouded by sand haze, 5,000 horse heads were neatly aligned, forming two bloody characters that would send shivers down the spine of any enemy— "Great Hua!"

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