Chapter 115: Li Shimin Breaks Through the Encirclement, the Northern Cavalry

Inside the canyon.

The sounds of slaughter echoed across the hills and fields as a swarm of rebel soldiers surged toward a mountain pass nearby. Among the rebels, those wielding shields charged at the forefront, each holding a shield in one hand and a sharp blade in the other, driven by the lure of the general’s generous rewards.

Within the pass, the ground was carpeted with the densely packed bodies of fallen men. Most were rebels, though occasionally one could spot the corpse of a Sui soldier, hacked to death by a flurry of blades.

"Kill!"
"Kill!"

Despite seeing that the enemy held only three or four hundred men, the expressions on the faces of the rebel soldiers were grim, their eyes filled with a gravity rarely seen before. Regardless of their combat prowess, not one of them dared to be careless when facing those few hundred Sui reinforcements.

Soon, the two armies drew close.

"Kill!"

A lead rebel soldier, shouting to embolden himself, exposed a glimpse of his face as he looked ahead. In the next moment, an arrow pierced his skull with lethal precision. He collapsed among the trampling feet of his comrades.

Where there was one, a second and third soon followed. Even the most burly and ferocious rebel soldiers could not help but feel a chill down their spines at the sight of those falling bodies.

A rebel soldier stole a glance at the young man standing at the front of the Sui line, wielding a long bow. He knew that every time that young man released an arrow, it invariably meant the death of one of their own. In these past few days, no fewer than three hundred men had perished by the hands of that young Sui commander, whether by his arrows or his heavy spear.

The rebel had never in his life seen someone so young lead a few hundred men to break through the encirclements of thousands, or even tens of thousands, so many times. His martial arts and courage were, frankly speaking, unprecedented. Even the generals, captains, and lieutenants in the camp had been whispering about him, many terrified to the core, and had even placed a bounty of a hundred pieces of gold and the rank of captain for the young commander's head.

As the rebel soldier gazed at the narrow, ancient path, he was lost in thought for a mere moment when he suddenly saw the young commander aim his arrow directly at him. In that instant, the rebel felt his entire body turn to ice. Before he could retreat, he saw a dark shadow filling his vision. Within the blink of an eye, an arrow pierced the rebel’s skull, and he fell into a pool of blood.

The surging rebel soldiers behind him faltered, their faces betraying an uncontrollable flicker of cowardice as they looked at the corpse. But then, they thought of the general’s bounty! A hot, desperate greed reignited in their hearts—if they died, so be it, but if they survived, they would be rich and powerful. Thinking of this, they pulled their heads and upper bodies behind their shields, refusing to look ahead, and charged forward with gritted teeth.

Above the canyon, two dozen rebels pushed a massive boulder and sent it plummeting down. As it rolled, many of the rebels charging through the pass were seized by terror. Seeing the boulder descending, they scrambled backward, desperate to avoid being crushed.

In the next moment, those who could not escape, or who were trapped by the press of the crowd, were flattened by the boulder. The sheer momentum caused blood to spray, affecting all the soldiers in the immediate vicinity.

"Kill!"

Beside Li Shimin, his armored soldiers saw their chance. While the rebel reinforcements were blocked, they surged forward to engage the shield-bearers who had broken through.

"Arrows!"

Li Shimin reached out, taking an arrow passed to him by a soldier. Having not removed his armor for days, his hair was disheveled, swaying in the wind, and his beard was matted with dried blood. Yet, as he looked at the rebel horde, his eyes remained resolute, devoid of fear. He drew his long bow, nocked an arrow, and plunged into the fray.

A rebel soldier was just about to strike down a Sui soldier in the melee, but before his blade could fall, an arrow from Li Shimin pierced his cheek. Li Shimin immediately drew another arrow and fired it at a second rebel standing a few paces away. That man, having turned to look at Li Shimin, was struck in the neck; he staggered back and collapsed, his weapon clattering to the ground.

The remaining rebel, terrified, raised his shield, fearing he would be next. But while a shield could stop an arrow, it could not stop the Sui soldier who swung his blade from the side, and the rebel was soon cut down.

On the battlefield, the presence of Li Shimin turned the tide. Even without wielding a sword or a spear himself, the entire momentum of the battle shifted in their favor because of him. The Sui soldiers grew bolder with every kill, while the rebels, caught between the fear of being shot and the pressure of the Sui blades, fought timidly. Many began to retreat, ignoring the reinforcements behind them and fleeing the way they had come.

Watching the enemy vanguard fall back, Li Shimin remained expressionless. His men, too, were unfazed; they had survived far more perilous situations under his command, and each time, he had led them to victory. Over the past few days, a near-fanatical devotion had taken root in their hearts. In their eyes, as long as Li Shimin led them, even if they were surrounded by tens of thousands, they would surely break out.

Just then, as the rebel forces fled, the sound of drums echoed from outside the valley.

"The drum signal! That is the retreat signal for the rebels!"

Li Shimin’s eyes narrowed in thought as he heard the drums. He turned to his men. "Prepare the horses! The rebels have failed in their multi-day assault, so they will surely attempt to lay siege and starve us out. We will strike now while they are unprepared!"

Li Shimin commanded. Ever since he left Yanmen, he had shed his identity as a Sui official. The armored soldiers in the canyon had once been wanderers, or even rebels from Jiang County, yet no one questioned his orders. They fetched their horses hidden within the canyon.

Soon, led by Li Shimin, the three hundred soldiers charged out of the canyon in a grand display of force.

"Kill!"
"Kill!"

Outside the canyon, the rebel vanguard that had just retreated to the plains had no time to rest before they heard the thunder of hooves. They turned to see hundreds of cavalrymen charging out of the valley.

Terror gripped the rebels. They wondered where this Sui force had come from—only three or four hundred men, yet they were more ferocious than a thousand Sui cavalry.

"Kill!"

Facing the unprepared rebels, the Sui cavalry drove their horses forward, weapons leveled. As the rebel infantry scrambled to flee, the three hundred Sui cavalrymen cut a path straight toward the outer perimeter.

"You think you can come and go as you please? Do you think my army is empty of men?" Tang Zhenhao, riding amidst his forces, watched the scene with a dark, furious expression. "All cavalry, follow me!"

Tang Zhenhao drew his sword and led his personal retinue in a charge toward the reinforcements. If a force of tens of thousands allowed a mere three hundred men to escape, he believed it would be a lifelong humiliation, whether or not they took Taiyuan or whether the Duke of Wei ascended the throne.

"Kill!"

Under Tang Zhenhao’s command, four thousand rebel cavalrymen surged forward in pursuit of the Sui reinforcements.

"They are not heading toward Queshu Valley!" Chu Bo, riding beside Zhen Jie'er, noted the direction of the fleeing Sui cavalry.

Queshu Valley was a vital pass from Jiexiu to Huoyi, and the route there was already heavily guarded. The Sui cavalry’s best chance would have been to enter the valley and hold it. It seemed the Sui commander knew about the ambush there.

"The north is nothing but a dead end, too," Zhen Jie'er remarked. They had already formed an alliance with the Tujue in the north and gained thousands of horses; there was no escape for the Sui that way. "The son of Li Yuan, Duke of Tang!" Zhen Jie'er looked at the fleeing cavalry with a cold, mocking sneer. He had already stationed thousands of cavalry in the north. *Do you really think I will let you go this time?*

"Report!"

A scout galloped up to Zhen Jie'er, his expression filled with panic. "Great General! Word from the north—a force of about a thousand Sui cavalry is heading south!"

Zhen Jie'er’s expression changed instantly. Not only him, but his advisors Liang Xuansu, Chu Bo, and Cai Ran, along with the nearby captains, realized the origin of that force, and they exchanged shocked glances.

"Fu Zihou!" Zhen Jie'er spat the name, his eyes burning with resentment.

In the north, only Jinyang could field such a force. He knew the officials and generals of Jinyang well; none would dare lead troops out of the city, except for one man... Fu Zihou!

He thought of the elite troops lost in Jinyang, the fleeing remnants, and the defeats of Tu Ye, Xiang Yifeng, and Yang Boyue at the hands of Fu Zihou. The hope of capturing Jinyang was likely gone forever. All because of him!

"Send word! Abandon the heavy baggage! The entire army is to march with all speed to surround Jinyang!" Zhen Jie'er ordered through gritted teeth.

Chu Bo and the others turned pale. Abandoning their baggage? If the Sui army attacked, they would be left defenseless. But looking at Zhen Jie'er, they knew he was determined to take Fu Zihou’s life, no matter the cost, to vent his hatred.