Starting with a Wei Wu soldier

The late summer sun was high in the sky, its heat already scorching. Twenty miles northeast of Xinghuo Fortress, the carefully chosen battlefield—a narrow valley running north-south, about two miles wide, flanked by gentle hills—was eerily silent. A wind blew from the north, rustling the sparse, half-withered grass in the valley, carrying with it a distant, low rumble like rolling thunder.

At the southern end of the valley, on a gently sloping hillside backed by a sparse birch forest, the Starfire Fortress army had already formed ranks.

The formation was centered on a gentle slope, unfolding according to the terrain. At the forefront was the main infantry formation, based on the "Iron Wall Formation." Five hundred elite infantrymen and crossbowmen were divided into eight "gate" teams, arranged according to a simplified version of the "Eight Gates Golden Lock Formation." Shield bearers led the way, slamming large, leather-covered shields with iron-bound edges heavily into the ground. Through the gaps between the shields, countless spear tips gleamed coldly in the sunlight. Behind the spearmen were axemen wielding "Armor-Piercing Type I" steel swords, and archers. The crossbowmen were positioned slightly higher in the center of the formation, their firing arc wider due to the slope. The entire infantry formation was solemn and silent, save for the fluttering of flags in the wind and the subtle metallic clanging of armor plates. Sweat streamed down the soldiers' faces, soaking their inner linings, but no one wiped it away; they simply gripped their weapons tightly, their eyes fixed on the direction from which dust rose in the north.

On the left flank of the main infantry formation, supported by a more prominent earthen embankment, was an auxiliary square formation of five hundred garrison soldiers. Their formation was relatively simple, but they were also equipped with shields and spears, guarding the flank of the main infantry formation and protecting some of the supply wagons piled up behind them.

On the right flank, the terrain was relatively open and flat, where Murong Mingyue personally led the main force of two hundred cavalry archers. They did not form a dense formation, but rather split into several small squads of twenty to thirty riders, spreading out in loose arcs like outstretched wings. This served both to cover the infantry's right flank and to maintain their mobility for attack or flanking maneuvers at any time. The cavalrymen controlled their somewhat restless horses, gently stroking their necks; arrows were already nocked, their eyes sharp as eagles.

At a higher point on the gentle slope behind the battlefield, Chen Xing immediately peered out from under a makeshift command flag. Beside him stood Chen Wei and several messengers responsible for signaling flags and drums. From here, they could overlook the entire battlefield and clearly see the approaching, increasingly loud rumble from the north.

On the horizon, a thick, churning band of yellowish-brown dust slowly advanced like a prehistoric beast. Beneath the dust lay a dense, seemingly endless array of figures and banners. The dull thuds of footsteps, hooves, wheels, clashing metal, and faint shouts of cursing mingled together, creating a chilling wave of sound that swept in with the hot wind.

The Black Mountain Army has arrived!

First to come into view was the vanguard cavalry. About three hundred riders, carrying variegated flags and wearing inconsistent clothing and armor, were clearly miscellaneous or vassal cavalry from the Black Mountain Army. They were widely spread out, shouting and brandishing their swords and spears, galloping back and forth several miles ahead of the main force like a cast-out net, both scouting and flexing their muscles. Soon, they spotted the well-prepared Starfire Fortress army. They were visibly startled, then several riders galloped back to report, while the rest gradually regrouped, stopping about a mile from the Starfire Fortress army, observing this "madman" army that dared to array itself in the open with such suspicion.

Immediately afterward, the main force of the Black Mountain Army's infantry began to pour into the northern entrance of the valley. Like a burst dam, a dense, dark mass of people surged forth, various banners waving in the dust. At a glance, there were at least two thousand infantrymen, divided into several square formations of varying sizes. Most of them wore simple leather armor or uniforms, carrying spears, broadswords, maces, and other weapons. Their ranks were scattered as they marched, and there was constant clamor, but the sheer number and overwhelming force they exuded was undeniably imposing.

In the center of these infantry formations stood an exceptionally tall black banner, embroidered with a menacing white character for "mountain." Beneath it, hundreds of infantrymen, their armor relatively gleaming and their formation more orderly, guarded several mounted generals. Among them was an exceptionally burly man, as imposing as an iron tower even on horseback. He wore heavy iron-plated armor, a helmet, and carried a terrifying long-handled broadsword. This was none other than Han Meng, the adopted son of the Black Mountain Commander and commander of the "Trap Camp"—"Han Po Jun"! He was speaking to a scholar's aide beside him, who was wearing a scholar's robe and waving a feather fan, occasionally pointing at the Starfire Fortress's army formation with undisguised mockery and contempt on his face.

Dust billowed again behind the main infantry force, and the thunderous sound of hooves filled the air! Approximately five hundred cavalrymen, in relatively orderly formation, surged into the valley like a torrent of iron-gray armor. These cavalrymen were all fully armored, their horses powerful and strong—the elite "Iron Falcons" of the Black Mountain Army! Unlike the vanguard of mixed cavalry, they did not scatter, but maintained a disciplined formation, silently following behind the main infantry force. Only the occasional snorts of their horses and the clanging of armor and weapons added a touch of chilling dread to the otherwise noisy infantry. Leading the charge was a rider clad in gleaming silver chainmail, covered by a black battle robe, carrying a lance. His face was sinister, his eyes scanning the battlefield like a venomous snake—this was another sworn brother, the commander of the "Iron Falcons"—"Shi Biao"!

Nearly three thousand infantrymen and eight hundred cavalrymen, totaling nearly four thousand troops! They filled the northern end of the valley in a dark mass and continued to pour in. Compared with the less than two thousand troops of Xinghuo Fortress, their strength and momentum were overwhelmingly contrasting.

The Black Mountain Army clearly hadn't expected Starfire Fortress to dare to venture out of its fortress and form ranks, much less that the enemy would choose this location. After a brief period of chaos and adjustment, the massive army slowly came to a halt about a mile and a half away from Starfire Fortress's ranks. The infantry began to reorganize their formation, while the cavalry spread out on both flanks.

Surrounded by his personal guards, Han Meng rode to the front of the formation, shading his eyes with his hand as he surveyed the Xinghuo Fortress's array from afar. After a while, he suddenly threw his head back and laughed loudly, his voice booming like a bell, which could be faintly heard even from a distance.

"Hahahaha! Who are you, daring to stroke my tiger's whiskers and kill my envoy! Turns out you're just a bunch of ignorant bumpkins!" Han Meng's laughter was full of disdain. "Just this many people? Just this shabby formation? You dare to come out and die?! Is Chen Xing scared out of his wits, or is he tired of living?!"

His aide stroked his beard and chuckled, "General, you are absolutely right. Judging from their formation, although it has some structure, their troops are few and far between, and they are a newly formed army. To face our mighty Black Mountain army in open battle is like a mantis trying to stop a chariot. Chen Xing must have known there was no hope of defending the city, so he resorted to this desperate measure, hoping to fight for a sliver of hope with sheer bravado. How laughable!"

Shi Biao rode over at this moment, his cold gaze sweeping over the Xinghuo Fort army formation, lingering for a moment on Murong Mingyue's cavalry ranks. He sneered, "More barbarian cavalry to help? Hmph, a rabble. Brother Han, why waste words? I'll lead my Iron Falcons in a single charge and break their formation! You then command the infantry to pursue and kill them. Within half a day, we can behead Chen Xing and return to our adoptive father!"

Han Meng waved his hand and sneered, "Brother Shi, there's no need to rush. The army has come from afar, and the men need a breather. Besides, why bother your elite Iron Falcons to deal with such ignorant fools? It's like using a sledgehammer to crack a nut!"

He turned to a lieutenant behind him and shouted, "Go! Pass on my orders! Have the infantry advance to five hundred paces in front of the enemy lines and form ranks for a challenge! Archers, prepare! I want to see how long these bumpkins can hold out! Also, send the loudest man to the front lines to shout at that brat Chen Xing to come out and face his death! If he's willing to kneel and surrender, handing over the Murong tribe's women and all his possessions, I might spare his life and only cut off his head!"

The lieutenant acknowledged and rode off. Soon, the Black Mountain Army's vanguard of about a thousand infantrymen, under the shouts and whips of their officers, began to slowly advance. Dozens of large cowhide drums were struck, their dull beats like the heartbeat of a giant, pounding in the hearts of every soldier in Xinghuo Fortress. At the same time, several soldiers with unusually loud voices were pushed to the front of the formation, raising their necks and beginning to hurl insults and challenges, using vulgar and offensive language to the utmost to humiliate them.

In the valley, the massive Black Mountain Army's formation resembled a slowly pressing dark cloud, its drums and clamor deafening. Meanwhile, the Starfire Fortress's army remained as silent as iron, with only the Starfire battle flag fluttering straight in the wind beneath the command banner on the hillside.

Chen Xing watched the Black Mountain Army's advancing front lines expressionlessly, listening to the faint shouts and curses carried on the wind, and said calmly to Chen Wei and the messenger beside him:

"Tell the soldiers to hold their ground. Let them get closer."

"Crossbowmen, check your crossbow bolts and await my command."

"General Murong, keep the cavalry stationary and await further orders."

The order was swiftly relayed. The army, which had been slightly agitated by the overwhelming enemy force, quickly regained its composure. The soldiers gripped their weapons tightly, the crossbowmen performed a final check of their bolts, and aimed their arrows at the approaching enemy figures.

The distance between the two sides was 800 paces... 700 paces... 600 paces...

The Black Mountain army's vanguard had already entered the edge of the effective range of the crossbows, but they seemed certain that Starfire Fortress would not dare to make the first move, or that the enemy's crossbows were scarce and not a threat. They continued to advance swaggeringly, their shouts and curses growing louder and more piercing.

Han Meng watched leisurely from his central command post, a cruel smile playing on his lips, like a cat toying with a mouse. Shi Biao, on the other hand, was somewhat impatient, but he held back, waiting for the infantry to engage before seizing an opportunity to deliver a fatal blow with his cavalry.

Five hundred and fifty steps... five hundred steps!

Just as the Black Mountain army's vanguard stepped into the crucial distance of five hundred paces—

In the center of the Starfire Fortress army formation, under the command flag on the gentle slope, Chen Xing's eyes flashed with a cold light, and he suddenly swung his arm down!

"Crossbowmen—!"

"put!"