Chapter 17: Anger Swallows Fear (2)
On the vast plain spread out below Mount Jeonggun, the Song troops were visibly shaken. The momentum of the Hui army emerging from the horizon was beyond anything they had imagined.
The seemingly endless columns of enemy soldiers were more than enough to crush the spirits of the onlookers. The Song army numbered only thirty-five hundred men, while a massive host of twenty thousand Hui soldiers deployed before them. The distance between the two armies was a mere three hundred yards. Faced with such an overwhelming disparity in numbers, the Song soldiers were gripped by terror and began to murmur anxiously even before the battle began.
Group 16, where So-mu was positioned, stood directly behind the shield-bearing infantry who held the front line. In essence, they were at the very front of the formation. From his position, So-mu could hear the panicked cries of the recruits behind him.
“Are they insane? How are we supposed to fight those numbers?”
“Dammit! I knew it would end like this!”
“Our very first deployment, and we’re going to die here.”
The fear that had started in a few corners quickly rippled through the entire army. Standing in the center of the shield-bearing line, Wi Jin-cheol shouted in a roaring, impassioned voice:
“Do not be afraid! We are stronger than they are! We have practiced the Vajra Sutra, and we have trained in martial arts!”
However, his shouting did not reach the hearts of the recruits. No matter how profound the manuals they had been given were, it was impossible to become a master in just a few months.
The junior officers desperately tried to rally the recruits, but their efforts were in vain. The only squad that maintained absolute silence and held their ground was Group 16. While they possessed a modicum of confidence, it was primarily because Il-gwang was glaring at his squad members, his eyes bulging as he warned them:
“If anyone in my squad shows so much as a single tooth, I’ll knock them all out myself!”
Having witnessed the Mount Hua disciple get disarmed and lose her teeth just a few days ago, none of the recruits dared to cross Il-gwang.
So-mu silently observed the Hui army. The enemy officers, watching the Song lines from horseback, laughed mockingly. Focusing his superhuman hearing, So-mu could hear their conversations clearly.
“Haha! Hahaha!”
“Pfft! Did they really march out with that pathetic force to engage us in a field battle?”
“They said Hanzhong would be an easy target, but this is even more ridiculous than the rumors, isn’t it?”
The Hui commanders were grateful that the Hanzhong garrison had marched out to meet them. A battle-hardened army that had crushed numerous Song legions was now facing a ragtag mob of recruits who hadn’t even finished basic training—and whose numbers were less than a fifth of their own. There was no better prey to secure easy military glory.
After a moment, the enemy commander-in-chief rode forward from the group of officers. Clad in glittering golden armor and holding a composite bow, he radiated an extraordinary, oppressive aura. His warhorse was draped in thick barding, and a long spear hung beneath the saddle. The beast-like eyes gleaming from beneath his helmet left no doubt that he was a formidable warrior.
So-mu looked back toward the rear of the Song ranks. There, he saw General Jang-yang, whose face had turned pale as ash. Beside him, Commander Kwak Cheol spoke in a trembling voice.
“General… that man is Muka.”
“I know,” Jang-yang replied grimly.
General Muka was a renowned warrior of the Mongolian steppes who had surrendered to the Hui Dynasty a few years prior. Famous for his supernatural archery and unrivaled spear play, he had already taken the lives of many Song generals.
“If we are facing Muka, our initial plan is useless.”
“Then what do you suggest we do?”
No matter how carefully a plan was laid, variables were inevitable. No one had anticipated that the Hui column would be led by a warrior of Muka’s caliber.
Muka rode slowly to the exact midpoint between the two armies. His sharp eyes scanned the Song officers one by one. Though the five hundred Song archers positioned behind the sword infantry aimed their bows at him, he did not pay them the slightest attention.
No one could guess his intentions. The only certainty was that the Hui army did not intend to attack immediately. Sometimes, a predator caught its prey and chose to toy with it rather than kill it instantly. That was precisely what Muka was doing. He was savoring the anticipation of the slaughter.
Stopping in the middle of the field, Muka roared toward the Song lines.
“Who among you has the courage to face Muka in single combat?!”
His shout was so thunderous that every soldier on the field heard it clearly. The profound internal energy infused in his voice sent a shiver of fear through the Song ranks.
To demand a duel when holding an overwhelming advantage showed his absolute confidence. It was infuriating how little he respected them.
Yet, for the Song commanders, this was a massive temptation. Muka was not a mere officer; he was the commander-in-chief of the enemy host. If they could somehow defeat him in a duel, they could instantly rally the recruits’ morale and turn the tide of the battle.
The recruits turned their heads, looking toward General Jang-yang. They desperately wanted someone to step forward and defeat Muka.
However, General Jang-yang was filled with anxiety. Commander Kwak Cheol whispered to him urgently:
“General, you must refuse the duel. Even if Adjutant Yang Yeon-jeong were here, Muka is not an opponent we can easily defeat.”
“If we do not accept, the soldiers’ morale will plunge even further. At this rate, the army might collapse before the clash even begins…”
Adjutant Yang Yeon-jeong was the finest martial artist in their army, a master of the Yang Family Spear Technique. Yet, even her victory against Muka could not be guaranteed. Furthermore, she was already in position on Mount Jeonggun and could not be recalled. A decision had to be made.
In the end, Jang-yang made his choice.
“Bring Commander Wi Jin-cheol.”
A moment later, Wi Jin-cheol pushed through the ranks and saluted.
“Is there any chance of victory?” Jang-yang asked.
“I will do my best, General.”
Excluding Yang Yeon-jeong, Wi Jin-cheol was the strongest warrior in the garrison. Yet, even he could not promise victory. But Jang-yang had no other choice.
“The fate of our army rests in your hands.”
Wi Jin-cheol placed his right hand over his heart and bowed, offering no words. His steps were heavy, as though he carried a thousand pounds of stone on his shoulders, but he did not hesitate.
As Wi Jin-cheol marched out of the ranks, the recruits of the sword infantry cheered at the top of their lungs for their commander. To them, Wi Jin-cheol was the strongest warrior they had ever known.
“Wi Jin-cheol!”
“Wi Jin-cheol!”
“Wi Jin-cheol!”
The roaring cheers of the soldiers only added to the weight on his shoulders. Just then, a familiar voice whispered from the ranks:
“Watch out for his arrows.”
It was So-mu, the leader of Group 16. Nodding once, Wi Jin-cheol took a deep breath and began to run.
Snatching a shield from a soldier in the front line, Wi Jin-cheol sprinted toward Muka. The initial distance between them was about a hundred and fifty yards. When the gap closed to under a hundred yards, Muka drew three arrows from his quiver. Nocking them to his composite bow in a single, fluid motion, he aimed at the charging Wi Jin-cheol and released the string.
Swoosh!
The three arrows shot forward, curving like crescent moons as they flew toward Wi Jin-cheol from different angles.
‘Not enough!’
Wi Jin-cheol held the shield before him and continued to sprint. Successfully deflecting the first arrow, he leaped into the air without hesitation.
Thud! Thud!
The other two arrows slammed into the dirt where he had stood a split second before, kicking up a cloud of dust. He had successfully evaded the opening volley.
However, as he hovered ten feet in the air, his expression paled. As if Muka had anticipated his leap, another arrow was already flying directly toward his chest. In midair, he had no way to evade.
Furthermore, the faint glow enveloping the arrowhead showed that the projectile was infused with Muka’s internal energy. Infusing an arrow with internal qi was a feat only a master archer could achieve.
Wi Jin-cheol had no choice. Bringing his shield forward, he braced for the impact.
BOOM!
With a deafening explosion, the arrow shattered the shield and pierced Wi Jin-cheol’s left shoulder.
Thwack!
“Argh!”
The force of the impact knocked the shattered shield from his left hand. Despite the excruciating pain, he did not stop. The fate of the entire army rested on his shoulders.
Tumbling to the ground, he immediately scrambled back to his feet and charged toward Muka. When the distance between them closed to a mere fifteen feet, Wi Jin-cheol let out a desperate cry.
“You bastard!”
A milky-white haze enveloped the blade of Wi Jin-cheol’s sword as he unleashed his sword qi.
Watching him with an indifferent gaze, Muka smirked. Leaping from his warhorse, he drew the long spear from his saddle.
Descending like a bolt of lightning, Muka’s spear thrust toward Wi Jin-cheol’s head. The strike, radiating intense spear qi, carried devastating internal energy. Gritting his teeth, Wi Jin-cheol swung his sword with all his might to deflect the spear point.
Clang!
The moment the sword qi and spear qi collided, a numbing pain shot through Wi Jin-cheol’s wrist. But Muka gave him no time to recover. The spear surged forward in a relentless flurry of strikes. Forced onto the defensive from the start, Wi Jin-cheol retreated, desperately parrying the onslaught.
Muka’s spear play was flawless, keeping Wi Jin-cheol at bay by utilizing the weapon’s reach. He pressed his advantage, preventing Wi Jin-cheol from executing any counterattacks.
Clang! Clang-clang!
Wi Jin-cheol’s movements were severely restricted by his wounded shoulder. With every clash, the disparity in their internal energy sent shockwaves through his body, disrupting his qi and blood.
By the tenth exchange, Wi Jin-cheol’s footwork faltered, exposing a critical opening. Muka did not miss the opportunity. His spear flashed forward.
Thwack!
“Aaargh!”
An agonizing pain threatened to tear his mind apart. Looking down, Wi Jin-cheol saw Muka’s spear shaft protruding from his abdomen. As Muka pulled the spear out, all strength drained from Wi Jin-cheol’s body. A moment later, he collapsed to his knees.
Thud!
A look of bitter regret filled Wi Jin-cheol’s face. He did not care about his own life, but the thought of his army collapsing because of his defeat filled him with despair.
With the last of his strength, he turned his bloodshot eyes toward the Song lines.
‘General… I have failed you…’
He could do no more. Wi Jin-cheol’s body slowly collapsed forward onto the dirt.
Thud!
Wi Jin-cheol lay still, his life rapidly slipping away. However, for some reason, Muka had avoided hitting his vital organs, as if deliberately leaving him alive for a bit longer.
Watching this from their lines, the Hanzhong soldiers were struck by terror. The commander of the sword infantry, the strongest man they knew, had been defeated helplessly.
The recruits gripped their weapons with trembling hands, their legs buckling beneath them. General Jang-yang stood frozen, completely speechless.
It was then that Muka roared toward the Song lines once more.
“Who else dares to face Muka?!”
No one moved. The army was completely paralyzed by the shock of their commander’s defeat.
Receiving no response, Muka stepped forward and stomped his boot onto the back of the fallen Wi Jin-cheol, grinding him into the dirt. Wi Jin-cheol let out a weak groan beneath his foot.
“Commander…” some of the recruits whimpered.
“Ugh…”
Many of the soldiers began to weep, consumed by a mixture of anger, sorrow, and absolute terror.
Muka’s mockery did not stop.
“Who will step forward to save this pathetic dog?!”
Since Wi Jin-cheol had been defeated so easily, none of the officers dared to step forward. Only a single common soldier standing in the front rank narrowed his eyes.
Seeing that no one dared to answer, Muka seemed to lose interest. Raising his spear high into the air, he aimed the tip at Wi Jin-cheol’s neck, preparing to decapitate him.
“This is the price for the ragtag mob who dared to block my path!” Muka declared.
It was then.
Just as Muka was about to plunge his spear, he stopped. A sudden commotion had erupted from the Song lines.
Turning his head, Muka saw an unbelievable sight.
A single soldier had stepped out of the ranks, pushing past the shield infantry, and was now running toward him. Behind the runner, the recruits of Group 16 were shouting in panic.
“Hey, you crazy bastard!”
“Come back right now!”
Muka stared in utter bewilderment. A common soldier had actually stepped forward to challenge him to a duel. Not even an officer, but a mere foot soldier.