Dawn of the Empire

Chapter 11: Night Raid

The 7th day of the 10th month, Year 30 of the Republic What should have been a three-day journey took this “army” of over 300 men nearly five days. Ou Yang estimated that their average daily march didn’t even reach 20 li. Huang Qianzong had always dismissed Ou Yang’s speculations about Western forces, but fortunately, he hadn’t let complacency cloud his judgment. In accordance with military doctrine, the various units regrouped into a single formation about 5 li from the enemy and dispatched scouts. That afternoon, the scouts returned with startling news—the Di people had actually erected a fortified wall around the edge of their settlement! Moreover, viewed from above, there was a row of rather luxurious large log cabins in the center of the settlement! It was well known that the Di Yi tribes on the Empire’s periphery had never dared to place such conspicuous markers near their settlements. Most of them didn’t even bother building thatched huts, choosing instead to live in earthen pits dug during the summer—pits whose entrances could be concealed by a single snowfall, for fear of being discovered by the Empire’s hunting parties. But since they were already there, being intimidated by a wooden wall was not the style of the Imperial Army. Huang Qianzong had been a soldier for many years and was well-versed in commanding small-scale engagements. Several of the officers—even a scholar like Song Wenmu, who had been forced to undergo military training—and Liu Chenyong, who came from a field unit, gathered together. After a brief discussion, they quickly devised a battle plan. Ou Yang returned to his unit and assigned tasks to the combat troops. These veteran hunters listened intently. The plan was actually quite simple: select a few skilled men to scale the wall under cover of night, then eliminate the sentries and open the gate, allowing the main force to storm in. Each unit would provide five archers for long-range support; the Thousand-Man Headquarters would retain twenty of the best-equipped soldiers as a reserve force; and auxiliary troops would surround the village on all sides to prevent anyone from escaping. Ou Yang took command of the left-flank infiltration unit, while Liu Chenyong was in charge of the right flank. After Ou Yang finished speaking, he included Hamuha in the combat unit, as this Di youth had keen senses and was light on his feet—he’d be better suited than others for sneaking over the wall. Late at night, a dozen or so figures crept stealthily through the darkness toward the wooden wall on the left side of the tribe. Their straw sandals, wrapped in multiple layers of hemp cloth, made a faint “creak, creak” as they stepped on the thick snow—a sound that rang particularly jarringly in the silent night. Fortunately, it seemed the enemy was holding a banquet today to celebrate something; the commotion had just died down, and by now they were likely asleep—no one came out to check. Hamuhah led the way at the front of the group. He pressed his face against a crack in the wooden wall and sniffed inside twice. There were no sentries by the fence, but he detected a strong smell of blood—and it was clearly human blood. Furthermore, from a row of thatched huts near the center of the village came the heavy breathing of men and the listless moans of women. It seemed not all their prey was asleep, but since they were engaged in such activities, their vigilance couldn’t be very high. Hamaha gestured to Batu, who was standing guard beside him. The burly Tatar man bent down slightly, and the Quanrong youth stepped onto his shoulders to climb effortlessly onto the wall. The wooden wall consisted of a row of logs simply set upright: one end was buried deep in the ground, while the other was sharpened to a point, serving as wall spikes. This defensive measure was quite effective against agile, ferocious beasts, but against opponents capable of climbing, it served little more than as a simple wall. Hamuha placed his feet on the joints where two logs met, gripped the pointed tip of a wall spike with his left hand, and let a rope dangle from his right hand as he slowly slid down to the ground. After landing, Hamuha covered his mouth and let out a few “gurgling” signals. The dozen or so others who followed also scaled over one by one. These seasoned hunters split into two groups upon landing: one group took up positions with their warbows to keep watch, while the other crept toward the gate not far away. Two Di-Qiang guards were stationed at the gate, but neither was particularly alert; leaning on their iron-tipped spears, they were huddled against the wall, seemingly on the verge of falling asleep. Batu waited a moment; just then, the squad that had sneaked in from the right also crept up. Several men acted simultaneously: one used a hemp rope to gag the sentry, while the others swiftly pinned him to the ground. Faced with the sudden attackers, the Di-Qiang man’s eyes widened with terror, but with his mouth bound, he could not shout and could only utter meaningless “moo, moo” sounds. Several Yi warriors twisted his hands behind his back, tied him up like a rice dumpling, and dragged him aside. The crudely made gate creaked and groaned, but the tribal soldiers paid no heed to how far the sound might carry; together, they forced the gate wide open. From the darkness beyond, hundreds of warriors silently drew their axes and surged inside. “Ah~~~ Wuu~~~!” A high-pitched wolf howl suddenly rang out from within the village. A jackal-man, standing taller than a man, leaped suddenly into the middle of the road to block the invaders’ path. He held a long dagger in each hand—their blades twisted like snakes—and stared at the enemy with eerie, emerald-green eyes. The monster crouched low, its hyena-like head leaning forward as it prepared to charge. Without warning, a feathered arrow flew through the air and struck it squarely in the left eye. The jackal-man let out a agonized “Woo~~,” dropped the daggers from both hands, clutched his eye, and began rolling on the ground. Wukeshan, who had fired the precise shot, drew his axe and cut the wailing on the ground short. In a thatched hut near the wall, a burly Di-Qiang man poked half his body out. Still seemingly confused by the situation, he shook his head and looked around—but failed to notice Hamuha, who stood just a step away, raising his axe and bringing it down with a mighty swing. In a flash, the Di-Qiang man’s upper body was nearly split vertically in two by Hamuha’s blow, sending a dazzling mist of blood flying. At that moment, angry roars from the able-bodied men and the wails of women echoed from all corners of the village; the howl of the jackal-man had finally roused most of the tribe’s people. The Yi soldiers continued to silently guard the entrances to the nearest thatched huts, killing every Di-Qiang who rashly charged out. The stench of blood spread throughout the entire tribe, and more warriors rushed toward the large wooden house in the center. Based on experience, that was the heart of the tribe; the strongest warriors and the chieftain were surely there. Leading the charge were Takurai and his companions. Eager to defeat the enemy and rescue their wives and children, they had grown restless from Huang Qianzong’s stop-and-go march. The group furiously hacked down every Di and Qiang warrior who stood in their path, raging like mad tigers. Just then, a tall Green Di (Goblin) darted out from a thatched hut on the right. With a furious roar, the creature hurled a bloody mass in his hand at the Yi. Takurai dodged to the side and looked closely—it was a Yi woman, her body turned blue and her lower half covered in blood; she was already dead. The sight of the woman’s gruesome state made his eyes blaze with fury, while the Green Di grinned nonchalantly, his mouth stretched wide. From the row of thatched huts behind him, more than a dozen green-skinned creatures emerged, wielding massive maces and broadswords; without forming ranks or letting out a battle cry, they charged straight toward them. Takurai could finally no longer hold back and let out a frenzied howl, leading a dozen or so Yi warriors wielding axes to charge head-on. The two groups collided head-on. Neither side wore armor or carried shields; driven by a surge of bloodlust, they paid no heed to defense, simply swinging their weapons to hack furiously at the enemy. Screams rang out instantly as five or six men from each side were cut down. The heavy bladed weapons inflicted horrific wounds, and all the wounded quickly lost their ability to fight. The arrogant green-skinned man from earlier was also wielding a long axe. Both men raised their weapons high above their heads and swung them straight at each other. The axe blades collided mid-air, and a thunderous “BOOM” erupted in the darkness, sending bright sparks flying. Takurai’s thumb went numb from the impact, but he didn’t flinch. With a roar, he raised his axe once more and brought it crashing down. The green-skinned creature, now in a frenzy, swung his axe upward in a counterattack. This time, the blades did not clash directly; instead, the green-skinned creature’s axe struck the upper part of Takurai’s handle, severing his weapon clean through. The axe head, still carrying its momentum, slammed heavily into the green-skinned creature’s shoulder. Ignoring the pain, the goblin raised his weapon with one hand, ready to strike again. Takurai discarded the broken half of his axe handle, blocked his opponent’s raised arm with his left hand, and slammed a fist into the bridge of his nose with his right. The goblin let out a wail; snot and tears mixed with blood blurred his vision, and in his agony, he could only hold the axe vertically in front of him with one hand. Takurai delivered a fierce kick from below, striking the green-skinned man squarely in the groin. The burly Di man’s body shook like a sieve and finally went limp. Takurai snatched his opponent’s weapon and swung it repeatedly; he didn’t aim for the head, but the axe blade struck the green-skinned man’s injured shoulder, nearly reducing half his body to a pulp. Behind him, more warriors surged forward, using their numerical superiority to slaughter every last one of the Green-skins still putting up a fight. Taking advantage of the opportunity created by these Greenskin soldiers blocking the advance, dozens of Di-Qiang warriors burst out of the wooden huts and thatched huts near the center of the village. Half of them wielded iron-tipped spears and iron axes, while the other half carried flexible bows. The aged tribal chieftain stood behind them, leaning on a walking stick, and commanded them in a hoarse, strained voice to form a defensive line. Fifty paces away, the archers responsible for long-range support fired heavy arrows directly at the front ranks of the Di-Qiang. These skilled archers unleashed a volley of arrows; in an instant, twenty of them fired nearly a hundred arrows. The unarmored Di-Qiang warriors let out a chorus of wails. The archers on the opposite side immediately retaliated; though outnumbered, they returned seventy or eighty arrows. On the Yi side, more than ten men were struck—all of them the fastest-charging melee fighters. Takurai was hit by two arrows in the arm, but fortunately, the softbows and bone arrows lacked sufficient force and did not penetrate deeply. Wukeshan had just fired seven arrows in rapid succession; combined with his previous shots, his quiver of iron arrows was now completely empty. He reached into another quiver to pull out a bone arrow, just as he was about to shoot, when he suddenly sensed a whiff of blood in the air to his left. Without a moment’s hesitation, he spun violently and fired the bone arrow toward the source of the threat. Another jackal-man leaped out of the darkness, and Wukeshan’s hastily fired arrow was deflected by its long dagger. The monster pounced on the archer closest to it; caught off guard, the Yi man had no choice but to hold his warbow horizontally in front of him. The jackal-man pinned the bow with his dagger, pressed down hard, and reached over to bite the man’s neck. Wukeshan heard the sound of teeth grinding against neck bones. The archer’s neck was a bloody mess, and he fell backward. The jackal-man, weapon in hand, stood over the archer’s corpse, growling, “Woo~~~ Woo~~~.” His slightly parted jaws revealed a mouthful of fangs, and a mixture of blood, shredded flesh, and bone fragments, mixed with thick saliva, dripped continuously from the corners of his mouth. Three archers immediately dropped their bows and arrows, drew their axes, and charged forward. The jackal-man dared not use his dagger against the long axes; with a whoosh, he spun around and leaped back into the darkness. The other archers fired rapidly at his back, but he ran too fast, and in the darkness, they could not see clearly—only a single heavy arrow struck the jackal-man in the crook of his leg. Taking advantage of the archers’ shift in focus, the Di archers unleashed an even more frenzied hail of arrows upon the enemy. Suddenly, a loud roar rang out from the opposite side, and white smoke billowed into the air. Huang Qianzong, leading the reserve unit of the Captain’s Headquarters, had rushed up. He and six armored soldiers lined up in a row. Relying on their iron armor to ignore the flying bone arrows, they fired a volley of handgun shots at the enemy, immediately taking down several Di archers. “Kill them!” Huang Qianzong pointed his pistol at the Di warriors ahead and turned to shout at the reserve unit behind him. A row of soldiers charged forward. These men were the personal slaves of Huang Qianzong and Liu Chenyong, serving as their household guards and bodyguards. They never participated in farm work; their sole purpose was to hone their martial arts and battle tactics. Their equipment was noticeably superior to that of the others—not only were they fully armed with swords and shields, but they also wore cotton armor. Forming a tight formation, they thrust their round shields forward, charging like a moving wall. A swath of Di warriors was knocked down, and the soldiers behind them surged forward simultaneously, furiously hacking at the fallen Di and Qiang warriors with their axes. “We’re defeated!!” “Help!!” The defenders had descended into utter chaos. Those whose morale had collapsed abandoned the few warriors still fighting, completely disregarding the old chieftain’s orders and even his pleas, and turned to flee, screaming in terror as they ran. The fastest among them was the wounded jackal-man from earlier; whimpering and tucking its tail between its legs, it scrambled on all fours toward the row of wooden huts. With a “boom,” a massive wooden door flew open and slammed into the jackal-man, slamming it into the dust. A gleaming silver figure darted out from behind the door, watching as a claw as thick as a thigh seized the head of a fleeing young Di-Qiang warrior; with a slight squeeze, it crushed his skull, sending his brains splattering. The claw casually tossed the corpse aside, then picked up an iron-tipped spear lying on the ground and hurled it forward. The spear pierced a shield-bearing soldier’s shield like armor-piercing ammunition, shattering his skull and sending fragments flying in all directions; its momentum carried it several meters further, piercing another Yi warrior’s abdomen. “Roar!” The silvery-white figure’s hair and beard bristled with fury as it bellowed at the fleeing soldiers: “Those who retreat shall die!” Huang Qianzong stared at the monster in shock and muttered, “The Tiger Qiang?” The Hu Qiang were a tribe of Di people found in both Liaodong and the southwest of the Empire. According to Western classification, they are orcs, resembling a tiger that walks upright. This tribe of Di people lacks even a tribal structure, living independently in family units. Their numbers are small, and their equipment is extremely poor—even their stone tools are roughly hewn. Yet, like true tigers, they are strong and powerful, with extraordinary agility; even unarmed, they can easily defeat armored soldiers wielding swords and blades. In recent years, this extremely savage race has suffered heavy losses at the hands of the Empire, so many survivors have sought refuge with the Empire to secure a means of survival. Once equipped with armor and weapons, these Di people are virtually unbeatable in close-quarters combat, and their loyalty is quite good. Several field armies have Tiger Qiang soldiers serving as personal bodyguards to high-ranking commanders; Huang Qianzong and Liu Paijia are acquainted with a few of them. It is said that there is now a squad of Huqiang Imperial Guards stationed in the Imperial Garden. However, upon getting a clear look at this monster, Song Wenmu dismissed Huang Qianzong’s doubt: “That’s no tiger—it looks more like a lion.” It was indeed a lion-man; excluding its tail, it stood 2. 5 meters tall. Its muscles bulged as if they were about to burst. Around its head—which bore distinct feline features—grew a ring of long sideburns, tied into a dozen or so thin braids with golden clasps. Even more astonishing was that it was actually wearing a shiny silver chain mail!