Holy Infant

"How could there be thunder in this weather?"

Zong Yuan looked up at the sky in bewilderment. The sun hung high in the clear, azure expanse, showing not the slightest sign of an impending storm.

Yet, in the next instant, the sky rapidly shifted from blue to a murky gray. Dark clouds gathered for miles around, pressing down heavily and obscuring the brilliant sunlight.

Zong Yuan stood dumbfounded, his lips trembling. "This... how could the weather change in an instant? Could it be that the Moth Bandits are not destined to perish today?!"

If a heavy downpour were to occur, the massive advantage the Han Army had secured would vanish into thin air.

The reasons were clear.

First, once soaked, the armor worn by the Han Army would become significantly heavier, draining their stamina and making prolonged combat impossible.

Second, their superior bows and crossbows would be compromised; the bowstrings would slacken, and the fletching on the arrows would dampen and warp.

Third, the elite Sanhe Cavalry, the pride of the Han Army, would be unable to charge across the muddy terrain, risking slips and falls that would leave both horse and rider at the mercy of the enemy.

Most importantly, while a light drizzle might be manageable, a torrential downpour would inevitably obscure visibility. Soldiers in the heat of battle would be unable to see the flag signals from the center command or hear the drums and horns, causing the entire army to descend into chaos and disorder, with every man fighting for himself.

This was something Lu Zhi and Zong Yuan could never accept. One of the greatest advantages the Han Army held over the Yellow Turban Army was their discipline; their orderly formations were enough to easily shatter the disorganized Yellow Turbans.

If they lost that order, and their armor and bows were rendered useless, the Han Army would struggle to contend with a Yellow Turban force twice their size.

"Lord Lu!" Zong Yuan looked toward Lu Zhi, his expression anxious.

Lu Zhi was equally stunned. One moment the sky had been perfectly clear, and the next, dark clouds loomed like an invading army. Was the Heavens truly this unreasonable?

"Big Brother, it's going to rain! Looking at these clouds, I fear it won't be a light one!"

On the carriage, Zhang Liang let out a long, relieved breath. With a heavy downpour, the Yellow Turban Army could easily disengage from the Han Army and retreat safely to Guangzong.

Truth be told, he had never wanted to fight to the death; he believed holding the city was the better strategy. What if reinforcements arrived from the Yellow Turbans in other regions?

There were, after all, the Thirty-Six Regions of the Yellow Turban Army across the land!

Surely, one of them would be able to send aid?

Had it not been for the insistent demands of his brother Zhang Jiao, whom he revered above all others, he never would have agreed to march out and engage the Han Army in open battle.

The situation had unfolded exactly as he feared; even though the Yellow Turban soldiers were fearless in the face of death, they were still being pushed back by the overwhelming offensive of the Han Army.

But thank goodness!

The heavens had sent rain!

At this moment, he felt an urge to roar, to vent the stifling pressure that had been building in his chest.

Zhang Jiao also breathed a secret sigh of relief, though the heavy stone in his heart remained unmoved. Even if the army were preserved today by the rain, what good would it do?

Lu Zhi had surrounded Guangzong tightly; they had nowhere to run. A breakout by the main force was nearly impossible, and what difference was there between a small-scale breakout and total defeat?

They were either trapped in a lonely city waiting for reinforcements, or, once the grain stores were exhausted, they would be forced to sally out and fight the Han Army anyway—only by then, their strategic room for maneuver would be even smaller.

Zhang Jiao's gaze was deep as he looked toward the direction of the Han Army, as if he could see Lu Zhi in the center command. Lu Zhi, sensing something, looked toward the high-flying banner of the "General of Heaven" and let out a cold snort. "Sound the retreat."

Zong Yuan relaxed and was about to order the signal for retreat when the dark clouds above grew even denser. A gale rose, howling across the land and filling the air with swirling dust.

BOOM!!

Dense, purple lightning tore through the sky, the rolling thunder drowning out the sound of the drums. An oppressive, solemn weight descended, causing the soldiers fighting desperately on the battlefield to tremble in fear. They ceased their slaughter, retreated cautiously, and slowly broke contact with the enemy.

The commanders and captains within the ranks did not scold them; instead, they looked toward the center command, waiting for the sound of the retreat.

Clearly, they all understood that once the rain began, this battle could no longer continue.

Just then, a massive hole suddenly tore open in the center of the dark clouds. Countless lightning dragons gathered there, staining the void a majestic purple, resembling the Eye of the Thunder God from myth.

In an instant, the lightning dragons surged, firing a pillar of thunder nearly ten feet thick. The massive purple beam pierced from the heavens straight into the earth, visible even from dozens of miles away.

Everyone—Han soldier and Yellow Turban alike, Zhang Jiao and Zhang Liang, Lu Zhi and Zong Yuan—fell into a state of stupor, their jaws dropping in shock.

They had seen lightning before; some had even seen it strike a tree. But those bolts were no thicker than a chopstick, while this thunderbolt was nearly ten feet wide!

They hadn't just never seen it; they hadn't even dared to imagine it!

In their eyes, only immortals could possess such divine power. After a brief moment of shock, many soldiers knelt in terror, praying for the gods to calm their wrath.

Though they did not know why the gods were angry, or if they were truly angry at all.

They knelt nonetheless, expressing their awe of the divine.

As the commander of the Han Army, Lu Zhi did not kneel, but he gripped the wooden railing with both hands, staring in a state of uncharacteristic disarray at the magnificent pillar of light connecting heaven and earth.

"What... is this?!" he muttered to himself.

"What is this?!" Zhang Jiao was also stunned, his grip on the Nine-Section Staff loosening subconsciously.

The next moment, an even more shocking sight appeared before them. Within the massive purple pillar of thunder, a swaddled infant appeared. The baby seemed to be sleeping, slowly descending from the sky along the beam of light.

Under the gaze of countless men, the infant finally landed safely on a small patch of open ground at the very front line where the two armies had been clashing.

Beside the infant, hundreds of Han and Yellow Turban soldiers stared at each other in silence, before bowing deeply.

"An immortal has descended! An immortal has descended!!" someone couldn't help but shout.

As one voice rose, ten thousand followed. The cry of an immortal's descent echoed throughout the ranks of both the Han and Yellow Turban armies, and many more fell to their knees, expressing their piety.

At this moment, the commanders of both armies issued their orders almost simultaneously.

"That is the Yellow Heaven Descends! It is the reincarnation of the Holy Venerable Huang Tian, the Sovereign Yellow Absolute!! All troops, advance and protect the Holy Infant!!"

"That is the Immortal Spirit of the Great Han, sent from the heavens by the protection of Gao Di! All armies, move forward and guard the Immortal Infant of the Great Han!!"

Great banners waved, drums thundered, and the sound of hooves shook the heavens and the earth. After a brief moment of hesitation, the Han Army and the Yellow Turban Army resumed their ferocious slaughter.

Flying arrows, long axes, swinging spears, hacking, and roaring... the entire battlefield centered around the heaven-sent infant, with soldiers locked in brutal, pair-by-pair combat.

Severed limbs flew, blood splattered, and heads rolled like a scene from hell; yet, in this cruel and bloody landscape, not a single person dared to approach within several feet of the infant.

Tens of thousands roared and screamed, yet the infant remained peacefully asleep throughout it all.