Chapter 43: The Counterattack Begins (Part II)

Luo Ang led his cavalry in a fierce charge, plunging into the midst of the enemy ranks and engaging the barbarian horde. Hundreds of his horsemen, like as many savage tigers, tore through the nearly one thousand barbarian cavalrymen sent to intercept them, scattering them into a state of total disarray.

Watching this, the barbarian commander felt a sense of bewilderment and muttered, "How can the Han army be this strong?"

Just then, a terrifying roar erupted from behind, as if a mythical beast had descended upon the mortal realm. Startled, the barbarian commander turned in panic, only to see Xu Chu hacking through his ranks with a massive blade, carving a path straight toward him. Instinctively, the commander spurred his horse forward to meet the challenge.

Just as the barbarian commander prepared to swing his blade, a flash of cold light emanated from Xu Chu’s weapon, and in an instant, the barbarian was cleaved in two at the waist. Seeing this, the barbarian cavalry were struck with terror; overwhelmed by fear, they turned their horses and fled toward the north. Luo Ang led his troops in pursuit for several miles before calling a halt.

Suddenly, cheers erupted from the riverside—the sound of over one hundred thousand refugees gathered there. They were ecstatic, some even kneeling before Luo Ang and his men, kowtowing in tearful gratitude.

Luo Ang reorganized his ranks, preparing for the next battle. He looked back at the refugees crossing the river and the pontoon bridge under rapid construction on the opposite bank, praying that the main enemy force would not appear until the bridge was complete.

On the north bank of the Yellow River, the tens of thousands of cavalry led by the Xiongnu’s Left Wise King had appeared near Huayin. They had crossed the river unexpectedly, launching a surprise attack on Dong Zhuo’s forces as they moved west. Caught off guard and unaware of the enemy's numbers, the Xiliang army retreated in a panic, shielding Dong Zhuo and the imperial court, while Hua Xiong led his own men in a counterattack.

In the ensuing fierce battle on the riverbank, Hua Xiong decisively routed the Left Wise King’s army. Recognizing the strength of Hua Xiong’s forces, the Left Wise King dared not linger. He hastily gathered his plunder and captives, crossed the Yellow River, and turned east, intent on raiding Luoyang.

That night, the Left Wise King’s army rested in a small town called Xiayang. Under the cover of darkness, the Xiongnu soldiers feasted and drank, clutching the captured Han women, who trembled like lambs beneath the claws of wolves.

Luo Ang’s pontoon bridge across the Yellow River was finally completed, and fortunately, the main barbarian force had not yet appeared. He immediately ordered the organization of the refugees to cross to the south.

Just then, several battered refugees arrived from the north. They informed Luo Ang that thousands of people were trapped at Huqiu Pavilion, some tens of miles away, and that an old Daoist priest and a young general were leading the defense against the barbarian army, though they could likely hold out for only a short time.

After carefully inquiring about the enemy’s strength, Luo Ang summoned his commanders and assigned tasks. He ordered Zhang He to guard the pontoon bridge, while he, along with Cheng Lian and Xu Chu, led two thousand of his own cavalry and ten thousand Xiliang horsemen to relieve Huqiu Pavilion.

Huqiu Pavilion lay dozens of miles from the Yellow River, flanked by rolling mountains to the northeast and hills to the east and west. While the terrain was not particularly treacherous, it was the essential route for anyone moving south from the north.

As Luo Ang approached with his twelve thousand cavalry and his personal guard, he looked into the distance and saw a nomadic army surrounding the small town like a tidal wave. The deafening roars of the enemy could be felt from miles away.

Luo Ang was somewhat surprised, while the Xiliang generals beside him displayed visible fear and confusion. One of them blurted out, "How—how can there be so many enemies? This is not just ten thousand; there must be over one hundred thousand cavalry!"

Another Xiliang commander cupped his hands to Luo Ang and urged, "General, the enemy is too numerous! We should retreat!"

Luo Ang glanced at the fearful Xiliang officers and gave a faint smile. "What? Are the warriors of Xiliang, who have always been fierce and brave and who never looked twice at foreign tribes, afraid now?"

The Xiliang officers hung their heads in shame.

Luo Ang looked toward the distant enemy and said with disdain, "No matter how many sheep there are, they are still just sheep. Although our force is smaller, they are all battle-hardened elites—tigers and wolves! And yet, you are afraid to pit tigers and wolves against sheep?"

Deeply shamed, a surge of resolve rose in the officers. The one who had suggested retreating stepped forward and said, "General, give the order! I am willing to lead the vanguard!" The other officers followed suit, all eager for battle.

Luo Ang patted one of the officers on the shoulder and said, "Pass the order: the entire army is to prepare for a charge!"

The officers relayed the command, and the ten thousand horsemen quickly gathered. Suddenly, horns blared, one after another, accompanied by the persistent shouts of the men. Despite their initial nervousness when facing the massive enemy force, the sound of the horns and the battle cries washed away their anxiety, replaced by an indescribable surge of bloodlust. Faced with the vast sea of over one hundred thousand enemies, every man longed to charge forward and fight to the death. A towering, murderous intent filled the heavens and the earth.

The enemy noticed this sudden appearance of the Han army and immediately detached about fifty thousand Wuhuan riders to charge toward them.

In the town, a handsome youth in white robes and armor climbed to a high vantage point, standing behind an old man in Daoist robes who possessed an ethereal, immortal air. The youth bowed and said, "Master, the Han army has come to our rescue!"

The old Daoist nodded, his gaze fixed on the battle about to unfold.

The youth looked into the distance and said with concern, "The Han army has only ten thousand men, while the Wuhuan barbarian cavalry number fifty thousand. I fear..."

The old Daoist replied, "Judging by the banners, it must be the Marquis of Yan himself. He has recently become famous throughout the world as a man of great talent. Let us see if he lives up to his reputation."

The youth asked, "Master, should we find a way to support them?"

"Now is not the time," the old Daoist said. "If the Marquis of Yan is merely a man of empty fame, our rash intervention would only provide the enemy with an opportunity."

The youth nodded and fell silent, his eyes fixed on the distance.

At that moment, the fifty thousand barbarian cavalry were charging toward the Han army.

Luo Ang raised his spear and roared, "Brothers! This land is our home; we will not allow any outsiders to run rampant! Follow me and wipe them out! We do not return until we have won! The Han army is mighty!"

The last line was a phrase Luo Ang remembered from a television drama he had once seen, and he shouted it out in the fervor of the moment. The ten thousand soldiers were instantly stirred, and they roared in unison, "The Han army is mighty! The Han army is mighty!"

With the war drums beating, the ten thousand soldiers surged forward like tigers descending from a mountain. Luo Ang took the lead, charging directly into the enemy lines, followed closely by his men.

At that moment, no one felt fear. Everyone was filled with a bloodthirsty impulse, wanting only to slaughter the enemy. The ten thousand Han troops carved a sea of blood through the enemy’s rolling tide, instantly throwing the fifty thousand-strong barbarian army into disarray.

Watching from the high ground, the white-clad youth felt his blood boil. His eyes widened, and his hands, gripping his spear, trembled slightly; he could barely suppress his emotions.

The old Daoist nodded slightly and murmured, "Good! To strike with such decisiveness in the face of a superior enemy—he is indeed a famous general of this age, a man who knows no fear! He is like a sword drawn from its scabbard, advancing with no thought of retreat! However, this is only the beginning. It is impossible to defeat such an overwhelmingly larger enemy with this alone. Can you handle the enemy's fierce counterattack? Let us wait and see!"

Luo Ang led his men in a fierce charge, but the enemy was no mere rabble. After being caught off guard and thrown into confusion, they quickly regained their composure, organized squadrons of cavalry, and launched a frantic counter-charge.

Seeing this, Luo Ang realized he could not crush them in one stroke as he had intended. Just then, he noticed the enemy splitting off two units of cavalry to envelop his flanks. "All units, cease the charge! Form a defensive perimeter!" he commanded.

At once, the horns sounded. Hearing the signal, the ten thousand Han soldiers immediately stopped their charge and closed in around Luo Ang.