The round, orange-red afterglow of the setting sun spread across the Loess Plateau of Northern Shaanxi.
The sky was orange-red, the earth was ochre-yellow, and heaven and earth were steeped in warm colors—something that should have brought joy. Yet between them, the silhouettes of men and the droning thunder of war drums shattered nature's warmth. All that remained between heaven and earth was killing intent...
Though it was only a clash between two hundred-man units of the Song Dynasty and Western Xia, it still carried a rather overwhelming momentum across this plain.
When two armies fought, it was not a matter of gathering a hundred men into a square formation and smashing them together. Only fools did that. The troops had to be spread out and stretched thin, with proper spacing to the left and right, front and rear, ensuring communication between individuals and units. This was no place for a mere capable general to show off personal valor. It was coordinated, large-scale team warfare.
In Zhang Da's unit, the cavalry stood on the flanks, shieldmen in front, crossbowmen behind, and spearmen at the rear. They were spread dozens of meters apart laterally, with gaps of ten meters lengthwise as well. From afar, the entire formation appeared extremely loose, yet everyone remained within three steps of someone who could come to their aid.
The Western Xia force opposite them was roughly the same. By this time, there was nothing particularly novel left in the various military doctrines and formations.
The land of Zhonghua had seen wars from ancient legends, wars recorded in the histories of the Shang and Zhou eras, more than five hundred years of conflict among the states of the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods. Then came Qin Dynasty unification, the Chu-Han Contention, the chaos of