Chapter Eleven: The Iron Cavalry of Hexi, Charge!

Li Xiao and his companions hid on the far side of the hillside, unnoticed by the Gelelu people who were eagerly trying to capture Kunji. When the men from Hexibao appeared atop the slope, overlooking the battlefield and taking advantage of the high ground to shoot from a distance, the Gelelu were instantly stunned.

In just half a minute, Li Xiao, bow in hand, shot down three Gelelu warriors in succession, each arrow striking vital points such as the head and chest. Li Dashan and the others exchanged glances, impressed by such archery skills.

“Not bad, Dàlóng. I didn’t expect your archery to improve so much in just a few months,” Li Dashan remarked in surprise while shooting his own arrows.

Mounted archery was no simple feat. Li Dashan and his comrades had trained from childhood, mastering both riding and shooting. Yet even so, after three rounds of firing, Li Dashan had only managed to kill one Gelelu, with one arrow missing entirely and another hitting only an arm.

Others fared similarly, some failing to hit a single target. This was normal; real combat shooting was influenced by many factors. The enemy would not stand still; after the initial surprise, the Gelelu quickly used their horses and the terrain as cover.

Thus, killing one person with three arrows was already impressive. Perfectly accurate marksmen were exceedingly rare. What astonished Li Dashan, however, was that Li Xiao’s three arrows all struck vital points.

Only now did they realize that the young man they had long regarded as a mere junior had undergone such an impressive transformation.

“I’ve been training mounted archery constantly—it seems the effort hasn’t been wasted,” Li Xiao chuckled.

Drawing his bow and nocking arrows with fluid grace, he released another arrow, which struck a Gelelu warrior squarely in the chest.

The men from Hexibao watched with admiration and envy at his precise shooting—he was a natural marksman.

Li Xiao’s skill was largely the result of his previous life’s military training. Although the bow was not the main weapon of cavalry in later times, every rider was expected to wield it proficiently and strike accurately.

This life had seen only brief training, yet the familiar feeling flooded back, as if his body remembered.

Perfect accuracy wasn’t guaranteed, but hitting nine out of ten was certainly feasible.

“I underestimated you, boy,” Li Dashan laughed, growing increasingly impressed.

The harsh environment of the northern frontier was complex. They faced not only harassment from the Naiman but also conflicts with other nomadic tribes and Han villages.

Every man of the north was forged in battle.

Li Xiao, the young lord of Hexibao and its future leader, would ensure the fortress’s survival if he mastered martial arts and proved fearless in combat. This would secure more resources amid skirmishes with neighboring tribes and villages.

At that moment, the Gelelu below began to shout and suddenly turned their horses around.

“The Gelelu are retreating!” Chen Erqiang shouted.

The sudden appearance of the Hexibao men caught the Gelelu off guard. After three rounds of long-range shooting, over a dozen Gelelu lay dead, with many more wounded. Li Xiao alone had killed four, including the cavalry leader.

The remaining warriors, seeing their disadvantage in numbers, stamina, and terrain, dared not hold their ground. Staying meant becoming easy targets.

They had no choice but to retreat and regroup with the main force by the riverbank.

“Chase them! Don’t let them escape!” Li Dashan shouted.

Whipping their horses, the men surged forward. Li Xiao and his comrades charged from the hillside, with fresh horses and the high ground ensuring they closed the gap quickly.

At two hundred meters, Li Xiao drew his bow again, aiming at the last Gelelu in the rear.

The arrow sliced through the air, striking its mark. A scream pierced the air as the final rider was struck and tumbled from his mount.

“Good shot! To hit at such a distance,” Li Dashan praised.

“And still have the strength to keep shooting?” others marveled.

Nearly two hundred meters away, both sides galloping at full speed, Li Xiao’s precision was astonishing.

The adults, doubting their own abilities, had prepared to get closer before firing to avoid wasting arrows.

More remarkable still was Li Xiao’s arm strength.

The Hexibao bows were no light weapons; even strong men struggled to pull them fully.

Typically, after three to five shots, a rider would need rest.

But Li Xiao had fired many arrows in succession without a hint of fatigue or trembling. His movements remained smooth and effortless.

This baffled Li Dashan and the others.

Li Xiao’s physique was lean and well-proportioned, not especially muscular or bulky.

How could such hidden strength lie beneath?

“Maybe it’s just natural talent!” Li Xiao laughed, spurting his horse forward past the others.

He was eager to shoot again—this feeling was exhilarating!

Perhaps the crossing of worlds had awakened a slight power within him, an explosive energy beneath every muscle.

The typical mounted bow of the era had an eighty-pound draw weight—just like the one Li Xiao wielded—but he felt it was still somewhat light.

Next time, he’d try a heavier bow for longer range.

Yet lighter bows allowed for faster shooting.

Another arrow flew through the air, this time striking a Gelelu rider’s neck, killing him instantly.

The mounting casualties threw the Gelelu into chaos. Someone shouted in their tongue, “God above! There is a hawk-eyed marksman among them!”

Many Gelelu adhered to Nestorian Christianity, a branch of the Church of the East. After the Mongol conquest, forced conversions dwindled their numbers.

“We’re all doomed if this continues!”

“We can’t keep running!”

“Charge back and kill these savages!”

Fearful of the sharpshooter, the Gelelu realized continued flight meant being picked off one by one.

Their own arrows were nearly spent, making counterattacks difficult.

Only close-quarters combat offered a chance at survival.

“Charge!” they roared, turning their horses to sprint directly at Li Xiao and his men.

“The Gelelu want close combat!” Li Dashan bellowed, face fierce.

Li Xiao quickly stopped him. “Uncle Li, wait! Their strength remains; don’t clash head-on yet. Let’s use our bows to fire from a distance—they have few arrows left.”

The men of Hexibao were brave but not reckless.

Despite heavy losses, the Gelelu’s fighting spirit endured, and their numbers were nearly equal.

A close fight would cause heavy casualties on both sides—too costly.

The best tactic was still to wear down the enemy with arrows, a traditional nomadic strategy.

Withdraw when attacked, strike when the enemy tires.

Harass and deplete them until victory is assured, then engage in brutal hand-to-hand combat.

Li Dashan took a deep breath, calming himself. He nodded lightly to Li Xiao, then addressed the men.

“Follow Dàlóng’s lead!”

As the distance closed to about forty meters, Li Xiao suddenly shouted, “Spread out!”

The Hexibao warriors split into two, forming an inverted wedge, flanking the Gelelu at speed.

Simultaneously, arrows rained from both sides in a crossfire.

At this range, Li Dashan and the others’ accuracy greatly improved.

Nearly twenty arrows flew in unison, catching the charging Gelelu unprepared.

Many fell, thrown from their horses.

“Well done!”

“Hahaha! Another slaughter of those damned Gelelu!”

Chen Erqiang and the others cheered, emboldened.

After this volley, fewer than ten Gelelu remained.

Hexibao now held full initiative.

“Dàlóng, you’re amazing!” Chen Erqiang praised, thumbs raised.

Li Xiao’s tactics minimized their own losses while maximizing enemy casualties.

He smiled lightly, without a hint of modesty.

This maneuver was learned from the Mongols, whose cavalry had swept across Eurasia, toppling mighty states with ease.

Later generations studied Mongol warfare extensively, and Li Xiao had mastered their methods thoroughly.

Unlike the fierce Jurchens, the Mongols relied on simple, low-loss strategies to end battles swiftly.

Only the Gelelu clung to outdated tactics, oblivious to the Mongol-led revolution sweeping the eastern steppe.

“The Gelelu are desperate now,” Li Dashan’s tone turned serious.

The last few, realizing escape was impossible, resolved to fight to the death, charging Li Xiao’s group with reckless abandon.

This time, Li Xiao did not stop them.

His numbers doubled theirs, and close combat favored his men.

Besides, the distance was too short for arrows.

“Then let’s kill them!” Chen Erqiang and others shouted fiercely.

Their kin had died at the hands of these Gelelu—they thirsted for revenge.

The distant shooting had not been satisfying; now they wanted to personally cut down the Mongol foes.

“Charge!” Li Xiao, swept by the same fury, drew his cavalry saber, adrenaline surging through his veins as his blood seemed to boil.

Mounted combat was the true romance of warriors, and Li Xiao longed to shout aloud:

“Hexibao Iron Cavalry—forward!”