Chapter 1: The Mad Catapult
The setting sun blazed like blood, casting its crimson glow over an ancient, majestic city that stood tall beneath the afterglow of the sunset. The walls were lined with countless soldiers, their bright and vivid banners fluttering fiercely in the wind. Beyond the walls, the sprawling camps stretched into the distance, the tents rising and falling like a restless sea. Troops of imposing black armored cavalry patrolled the perimeter of the camps, their might not diminished in the slightest compared to the towering walls of the ancient city.
It was dusk, and the dim light posed a significant disadvantage for the attacking force. Although the atmosphere was tense, no immediate clash ensued.
On the formidable walls, amidst the densely packed soldiers, stood several resplendent generals, huddled around an elderly man at the ramparts, gazing distantly at the enemy camps below.
The old man wore a wide, flowing black robe, his hands clasped behind his back. Despite his slight figure, he exuded an aura akin to a towering pillar, an unscalable mountain that forever remained beyond one's reach. His dark eyes were as placid as an ancient well, yet they emitted a keen sharpness like blades, capable of piercing through everything.
"How could this be... That fat idiot didn't fall for the trap... He couldn't have known it was a trap in advance." Beside the old man, a general in shimmering silver armor, his face covered in thick hair, suddenly slammed his fist against the wall, his expression brimming with不甘心.
"That fat bastard is too despicable. He only took the bait but didn't get hooked..." Added another young, slender general, his eyes reddened with fury, an ocean of rage simmering within.
"..."
One after another, the generals railed against the opponent's duplicity, but the old man remained serene, like a vast mountain amidst turbulent waters, unshaken.
After a long silence, the old man spoke softly, "Are you still generals of the Great Yi Dynasty?"
His voice was as light as a whispering wind, yet it silenced everyone present.
"Xiao Ming, I recall during the attack on the Li Kingdom, you ambushed their 30,000 troops with merely 3,000 of your own along the Jade Dragon River?" The old man spoke gently.
"Yes..." The hairy-faced general bowed in response, but his eyes, like giant bells, revealed not pride but shame.
"Yin Rong, if I'm not mistaken, you're from a noble family and joined the military at 15. Despite your young age, you led a small team to deceive the gates of Longqing, the capital of the Great Ying Dynasty, laying the foundation for our victory." The old man shifted his gaze to the young general.
The young general also bowed, his expression mirroring Xiao Ming's, filled with shame.
"Xi Xiuhao, I raised you from childhood. I remember on the Mahuayu Plains, you employed the desperate measure of burning your boats and defeated the 100,000-strong army of the Dan'an Kingdom with just 10,000 men."
"Hu San..."
The old man recounted the deeds of each general as if narrating bedtime stories to his grandchildren. Yet, each word seemed to chastise the generals, who now bore expressions of humiliation.
"You are all legends. Even the greatest generals of past dynasties couldn't compare." The old man said calmly. "Yet now, you're afraid."
"Marshal..." Hearing the old man's words, the generals' faces flushed with a fierce battle spirit.
"Tell me, what are you afraid of? That fat man? The one who almost lost to each and every one of you?" The old man chuckled softly.
"Prepare for battle. Dawn signals the true beginning. The Panshi Pass, an impregnable fortress for millennia, combined with your prowess, will remain unconquered by that fat man..." The old man spoke calmly, yet his eyes shone with an electric intensity that filled everyone's hearts with resolve.
At the back of the sprawling camp, a humble tent stood out for its worn appearance, its fabric so old it emitted a musty scent. In the Great Ben Dynasty, only captives were held in such conditions. Yet, peering through a crack in the tent, one could see a honest-looking fat man flipping through a stack of battle reports at a crude table.
The fat man wore a dull gray armor that was barely discernible without the flickering candlelight.
"Fortunately, I planned ahead. Otherwise, I'd be a captive by now." The honest-looking fat man suddenly gritted his teeth and said.
Then, as if remembering something, he chuckled foolishly, setting aside the reports and muttering, "But... losing 100,000 troops, they must be regretting it now, huh..."
His tone shifted again, "So what if it's a millennia-old city? I've been planning this for two years. You've lost... Haha."
After a moment of contemplation, the fat man reached into his robe and pulled out a golden tiger talisman, adorned with an engraving of a fierce giant wielding a giant axe.
"Attack at dawn..."
The tiger talisman glowed faintly in the candlelight, the giant on it seeming to come alive, imbuing the scene with an eerie aura.
The battlefield raged, with the ancient city on one side and the endless camps on the other. The soldiers on the walls were divided into two tiers; the front layer hurled rocks, boiling oil, and all manner of projectiles, while the rear loosed a deluge of arrows that plunged down like a black storm, chilling to the bone. The densely packed soldiers in the camps charged relentlessly towards the city, their momentum like a tsunami crashing against the walls.
Ladders, catapults, flying machines... Every conceivable means of assault and defense were employed. Both sides gave their all, intent on destroying the other. On one side stood a fortified city with 50,000 troops, while the other boasted 200,000 soldiers.
In terms of numbers, the fat man had the advantage, but the impregnable fortress negated this, putting him at a disadvantage. For he faced a century-old stronghold, a pass that had never been breached.
The area beneath the walls had turned crimson, the steady flow of blood forming rivulets that coursed through the uneven terrain. Corpses, countless as grains of sand, littered the ground beneath the walls.
The scene was no less grim on the ramparts, where the crimson blood trickled slowly through the cracks in the stones.
"Huo Qing, the legendary military genius..." The fat man gazed afar at the elderly man in black, standing tall on the ramparts, and whispered.
As the fat man observed Huo Qing, Huo Qing too regarded the fat man.
"How are you going to break through this formidable pass?" Huo Qing said calmly. The walls of the Panshi Pass are sturdy and unscalable. Coupled with the defense of 50,000 troops, it would be impossible to break through from the front, even with 500,000 men. Attempting to attack from both the front and the rear would be even more impossible. This formidable pass is firmly wedged between Elephant Trunk Mountain and Spire Mountain. The two mountains tower majestically into the clouds, and the mountain paths are winding and treacherous, where one careless step could lead to a fall from the mountain.
"Ghostly Fright" - that's how the hunters at the foot of the mountains described these two peaks. From this, one can imagine just how treacherous and perilous these mountains truly are.
Of course, it's not impossible to pass through, but that's only under the condition of a small number of people. If an army were to attempt it, it would be virtually impossible.
Unless they were willing to spend months, or even a year, it would be difficult for even 10,000 troops to traverse this terrain. Months, a year... by then, everything would be over... what's the point of breaking through the pass then?
※※※
Staring at Huo Qing, whose silhouette was barely discernible as a dark shadow, the fat man suddenly chuckled softly. "Old fox, I know what you're thinking, but this time you've miscalculated. The last time you forced me to run like a rabbit two years ago, I left 10,000 troops here..."
Holding the tiger-shaped military token, the fat man ordered his deputy general to intensify the attack on the city. While the defenders on the walls were puzzled by the fat man's relentless assault, they fought desperately to hold their ground. The casualty rate on the fat man's side reached an alarming level.
Both sides were frantically fighting on the battlefield, their eyes bloodshot with fury. But the battle remained stalemated.
Finally...
A faint sound of clashing weapons drifted from the rear of the Tiger Fort, growing louder and louder until it was like the roar of a raging river.
The defenders on the walls panicked...
"Here it comes! Zhao Cang, give the order to commit all our troops!" Seeing this, the fat man proudly brandished the tiger-shaped token in his hand.
He was going to win. On the other side was the God of War, the one who had defeated him ten times before. If the fat man weren't so thick-skinned, he would have been broken long ago.
Finally, the fat man was about to defeat that old fox once and for all. How could he not be ecstatic?
At this moment, the fat man could already imagine the expressions of Huo Qing and those generals who had once chased him relentlessly...
But just then, a sudden "whizzing" sound filled the air. The fat man frowned and looked up into the sky. When he did, his eyes widened like two brass bells.
A massive boulder was hurtling towards them.
"Dammit..." Staring at the boulder, the fat man, still holding the tiger-shaped token, was stunned. The range of the catapults of the Great Yi Dynasty was only around 500 zhang, but he was standing 1000 zhang away from the city wall... It was too late to dodge. The fat man swiftly raised his middle finger with his left hand and slowly spat out a few words...