Chapter 124: The Battle (Part II)

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The armor was pure black, fashioned in the style of lamellar armor. Fine steel had been hammered into hundreds upon hundreds of individual plates, then fastened together with rawhide cords.

Every component was present and complete: chest guard, arm guards, thigh guards, iron boots, heart-protecting plate, neck guard, helmet, and iron mask.

This was heavy armor made for mounted charges into the enemy line, shielding its wearer from head to toe.

Compared with the armor currently used by the Great Sui army, this suit of lamellar armor was somewhat old-fashioned. The ornamentation in certain places still bore the distinctive marks of the Northern Wei, that Tuoba Xianbei empire. Its heart-protecting plate was also smaller than those on modern armor, covering less than a third of the chest.

Yet every plate had been maintained with extraordinary care. Not the slightest trace of rust could be found. To preserve it in such condition, the armor had to be oiled and polished every year, after which willow twigs and charcoal were used to absorb the excess grease.

Even after that, it had to be wrapped layer by layer, sealed from the air, and stored with meticulous care. Year after year, an astonishing amount of effort had gone into preserving this suit of armor.

Another feature distinguished it from the armor commonly used in the army today. Each plate bore a raised nub, densely scattered across the armor like countless sharp spines, creating a grim and terrifying appearance.

This meant that every plate had been cold-forged, hammered thinner and thinner by sheer force. Those raised nubs marked the original thickness of the plates.

Cold-forged in this manner, the plates were far sturdier than those of ordinary armor. Though they remained just as heavy, being hammered to half their former thickness made them far easier for the wearer to move in. On the battlefield, that was an advantage beyond compare.

In the days of the Northern Wei, the Rouran had been enslaved as smiths. Beside the capital, armor and weapons workshops had stretched for miles, and from them this technique of cold-forging armor had emerged. It represented the pinnacle of armor-making in its age. Every suit of cold-forged wart armor was worthy of being preserved as an heirloom by a great aristocratic clan.

The cost of such armor was astonishing as well. Hammering out a single plate often took more than ten days, and a complete suit required far more than a thousand plates.

Xu Le sat upright upon a great stone. Han Yue and Han Xiaoliu first dressed him in a silk-lined battle skirt, then carefully fitted each part of the armor onto him. Once every piece had been adjusted into place, they secured it tightly with rawhide cords.

After the armor was donned, they covered it with a sleeveless felt battle robe and cinched it fiercely at the waist with a broad sash.

Fully armed, Xu Le rose to his feet, and a chilling, murderous presence swept over everyone before him.

Several dozen retainers stared blankly at Xu Le in complete armor, unable to utter a word. The young master Le whom they had watched grow up had, in that instant, taken on the full aspect of a great general. Every movement seemed to radiate an inexhaustible aura of bloodshed.

This was a warrior in armor. This was the pinnacle of martial power in the complete form recognized by this age.

Han Yue presented the iron mask with both hands. Xu Le took it, examined it carefully, then gently fitted it over his face.

The inner rim of the helmet was lined with catches. As the iron mask locked into place, it gave a faint clicking sound.

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The mask was pure black. It had no mouth, only openings for the eyes. Across its surface, a furious Vajra deity had been painted in vivid cinnabar lacquer.

The instant the mask closed, the blood-red image of the wrathful Vajra seemed to come alive, unleashing a silent roar within the heart of every man present.

The retainers' hair stood on end, and their blood rushed to their heads. Seeing Xu Le like this, any true man could only long to follow behind him and charge forward. Even if a mountain stood in their path, they would hurl themselves straight into it.

Without a word, Han Yue led Tunlong over. Han Xiaoliu hurriedly spread a felt blanket over the horse to guard against arrows.

Xu Le placed his foot in the stirrup and prepared to mount. Seeing the excitement on Han Xiaoliu's face, he suddenly asked, “Xiaoliu, have you remembered everything I told you?”

Han Xiaoliu thumped his chest vigorously and answered between heavy breaths, “We remember it all! When the time comes, we won't take a single step back! We'll fight those Mayi cavalry to the death!”

Behind the mask, Xu Le smiled faintly. “As long as you do exactly as I say, we will certainly destroy those Mayi cavalrymen.”

Han Xiaoliu widened his eyes. “What Young Master Le taught us—it was all…”

Xu Le nodded. “Yes. It was all passed down to me by my grandfather.”

Han Xiaoliu leaped high into the air. “Then there's no way we can lose!”

Xu Le smiled, then swung himself onto the horse. Han Yue, meanwhile, lifted Xu Gan's corpse and carried it over. Xu Le leaned down to receive his grandfather's body, placed it behind him, and bound it tightly against himself with leather straps.

Let Grandfather see how I tear these Mayi mounted soldiers to pieces!

I will not let a single bone of Grandfather's remains be harmed, because I will do nothing but advance.

Grandfather, oh Grandfather, watch me! This is only the first payment of interest I am collecting from those hidden hands manipulating the fate of our Xu family.

Every retainer watched Xu Le's movements, their faces drawn tight.

At such a moment, there was no need to say anything more. Nor was there anything left to say. Having reached this point, death was the only outcome. What else could they do?

Several dozen horses were led out, and the retainers mounted. One straight saber after another was drawn.

Xu Le suddenly yanked the reins. Tunlong reared onto its hind legs and let out a long, piercing neigh.

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Upon Tunlong's back, Xu Le raised his hand and pointed straight ahead, toward the Mayi mounted troops below the mountain!

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At the foot of Tingbing Mountain, clusters of campfires gradually died out. Only wisps of blue smoke rose into the air, where the mountain wind seized them and tore them into tatters.

The Mayi mounted troops had been stationed along the various roads. Some were preparing to catch up on sleep, while others chewed on dry rations.

Shi Chaozhi had resolved to besiege Tingbing Mountain. These Mayi cavalrymen, seasoned by years of warfare, were fully prepared for a protracted campaign.

At that moment, preserving their strength and energy was of the utmost importance. Tents and provisions still had to be transported from Shenwu County. They might even need to conscript laborers, set up chevaux-de-frise along the roads, dig trenches, and establish a more complete system of encirclement.

Whatever the case, maintaining a long-term siege in the wilderness was bitter work. The duties of patrolling and keeping watch alone were exhausting. Although Shi Chaozhi had promised them the right to plunder the villages scattered throughout the Sanggan River valley after the battle, the Mayi cavalry still seemed unable to summon much enthusiasm.

Meanwhile, Chen Fengpo and several others were at Shi Chaozhi's quarters, recording one by one the military supplies and provisions Shi Chaozhi ordered them to transport. More than a dozen Mayi cavalrymen waited impatiently nearby, ready to accompany them to Shenwu. If Chen Fengpo and the others proved inept, they might well have to demonstrate their authority.

The more Chen Fengpo listened, the more wretched his expression became. Shi Chaozhi was truly demanding the impossible. He wanted laborers, grain, fodder, and tents—nothing was to be omitted—and the quantities were enormous. At least half the military supplies stored by the Mayi Eagle-Raising Command in Shenwu County would have to be sent away. If the Turks marched south, Shi Chaozhi and his men could retreat to Shanyang. What would become of Shenwu County then?

But Shi Chaozhi had just suffered a defeat and lost so many officers and soldiers. He was at the height of his madness. If Chen Fengpo offered even the slightest objection, Shi Chaozhi might truly kill him on the spot.

Those Central Plains bastards—the men of the Taiyuan Wang family—held the people of Mayi in such contempt!

Yet when one stood beneath another man's eaves, who could refuse to bow his head? Apart from Liu Wuzhou's territory, was there anyone in Mayi Commandery who dared stand against the five battalions directly commanded by the Governor Wang, fierce as wolves and tigers?

Chen Fengpo felt he had committed a grave sin. After serving as these governors' hounds and plundering the villages throughout the Sanggan River valley, how could he ever show his face in Shenwu County again?

And yet, who could stop them?

Just then, the distant neigh of a warhorse rang out. The sound was so deep and fierce that it resembled the roar of a tiger.

Many of the Mayi cavalrymen around the campfires had already risen to their feet. They stared toward Tingbing Mountain, their faces filled with terror.

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