Who Was to Blame?

Who Was to Blame?

The Takeda Eight Formations had been developed by the famed Fusang general Takeda Shingen from Great Xia's Marquis Wu's Eight Formations. They had repeatedly shone brilliantly in the struggles among Fusang daimyos.

Fusang had always admired everything about the vast Great Xia Empire—its culture, economy, and military. Every year, many young nobles braved wind and waves to come to Great Xia and study all manner of knowledge. Once they completed their studies and returned to Fusang, every one of them became outstanding among their respective classes.

Harukami Jiro had encountered the Marquis Wu's Eight Formations more than once in war. He knew that the tactical purpose of this Fish-Scale Formation was a central assault, generally used when one's own strength far surpassed the enemy's. As for what formation was needed to counter it, that was beyond the understanding of ordinary warriors. Only nobles had the qualifications and ability to learn such advanced tactical arts.

When Harukami saw His Highness the Heir of Prince Heng and General Wu walking toward them, he immediately stood ramrod straight and respectfully greeted them with his gaze. Qin Mo had repeatedly demanded this: in wartime, no exaggerated salutes were permitted before superior officers, lest the enemy's sharpshooters fix their sights on them.

"Which of you has drilled battle formations?"

"Who can skillfully form up according to orders?"

For every question Wu Shengze asked, an interpreter loudly repeated it in Fusang. The interpreter was Harukami's acquaintance, Matsushita Jiro. He had come to Great Xia with Harukami, except one was a warrior while the other was an interpreter.

Harukami caught the subtle look in Matsushita's eyes. The instant the words fell, he raised his hand and answered, "This subordinate can fill any position in the Takeda Eight Formations."

"This subordinate can as well... This subordinate once served at the point of an Arrowhead Formation..."

Many Fusang people eagerly declared that they could serve as part of a battle formation, greatly surprising Qin Mo. He had always thought Fusang people only knew how to charge forward like boars!

"Who can serve as the commanding general and control the formation?" Wu Shengze asked again.

This time, no one answered for a long while. After all, those who came to Great Xia were poor warriors, or simply ashigaru with some martial skill. No true Fusang noble would come to serve as a mercenary.

Qin Mo waited for quite some time. Just as he was growing dejected, a timid voice rang out. "This subordinate has studied formations and has once commanded military formations at my father's side."

Qin Mo did not even need to look to know who was speaking. This time, he had brought over everyone in the Fusang Mercenaries from squad leader upward. As the commander of the medical unit, Kaihime was the only female officer.

Seeing Kaihime's cheeks and eyes flushed with excitement, Qin Mo said, "Test them. Select fifty qualified warriors to form a formation."

"Yes!" Kaihime nodded heavily, turned around, and rapidly fired off question after question in Fusang. Men around her answered from time to time, and she immediately selected them to stand aside. She questioned them swiftly and chose people decisively, and a small force quickly gathered.

Once she had assembled fifty people, Kaihime began issuing orders in rapid succession. A clearly layered military formation swiftly took shape, greatly surprising Qin Mo and Wu Shengze.

It was a Crane-Wing Formation, renowned among Marquis Wu's Eight Formations for balancing offense and defense. However, it placed extremely high demands on the commanding general's ability. Though this was merely a fifty-man formation, the fact that it had taken shape so quickly proved that Kaihime was no fraud who only talked tactics on paper. But whether she could wield the Crane-Wing Formation skillfully would only be known once they faced an enemy.

"Commander Chen, should both sides remove their armor? That would be fairest," Qin Mo asked Chen Xuanji after returning to the edge of the field.

"This commander is only here to judge. As for everything else, the two sides may discuss it among yourselves." Chen Xuanji neither approved nor objected. He merely sat there as steady as an old god, waiting for the fight to begin.

Qin Mo turned to look at Wang Renbi without saying anything, but everyone knew he was asking whether Wang Renbi wanted to remove their armor.

"When two armies face each other, casualties are unavoidable. No need to remove the armor! Hehehe... Qin Mo, you've only put them in battle robes and given them no armor? Are you really that poor? Will you still be able to pay fifty thousand taels of silver later?... Gagagaga..." Wang Renbi's cackling laughter carried far into the distance.

Qin Mo turned away and ignored him. Wu Shengze brought over a chair. Qin Mo sat down, his eyes watching his nose, his nose watching his heart.

"Boom, boom, boom!" Three rolls of drums sounded, and the contest began. The Wang Family Private Army swiftly moved, with more than a dozen warriors clad in Leaf Armor acting as the spearhead and wings as they charged straight at the Fusang Army. The transition from stillness to motion made their killing intent even heavier. If their opponents had never seen a battlefield, their hearts would surely have been thrown into chaos.

On the Fusang Army's side, however, there was no further movement after they formed up. Their two wings spread forward like wings. If they remained still, the weak center would be forcibly torn open by the Fish-Scale Formation's hard-charging spearhead.

The nobles at the field's edge had already begun whispering among themselves. Was the Fusang Army as unmoving as a mountain, or had the Wang Family Private Army frightened them senseless and made them forget to alter their formation?

"Raise spears!" A crisp command rang out, and the Fusang Army's crane wings transformed into a hedgehog as dense ranks of long infantry spears thrust outward. Then, with one command after another, the Crane-Wing Formation was continually adjusted. The wings on both sides gradually closed toward the center. If the Wang Family Private Army continued charging straight ahead, the Fish-Scale and Crane-Wing Formations would surely make full contact, losing the sharp momentum of striking at a single point.

But the commanding general leading the Wang Family clearly had no intention of playing tactics. He intended to crush ten techniques with sheer strength. The warriors at the blade's edge wore iron armor and wielded long sabers, fierce and valiant beyond measure. So long as they pierced the center of the Crane-Wing Formation, two back-and-forth penetrations would basically shatter the enemy.

As the two armies swiftly closed in, neither could change formation again. A bloodthirsty savagery had already appeared on the Wang Family commander's face. But then he suddenly saw the Fusang people across from him wipe their faces with a hand. Masks appeared on their faces—judging by the material, they seemed to be... made of iron.

Harukami Jiro reached up and lowered the faceguard of his helmet. For some reason, the orders they had received this time contained several strange instructions. For instance, they were to cover their iron armor with oversized battle robes. Was this meant to confuse the enemy? Harukami stopped dwelling on it and merely stared at the charging enemies like a hunter watching his prey.

The two groups finally collided. The snapping of spears, the teeth-grinding scrape of blades hacking against iron armor, and the muffled groans of weapons entering flesh intertwined as the stench of blood spread through the air.

The Fusang Army's spears could no longer be seen on the battlefield. Like cavalry, they had cast aside their spears and reached behind their backs to draw long horse-chopping sabers, swinging them at their enemies. Blood sprayed everywhere, and screams rose without end.

The Wang Family Private Army charged repeatedly into the center of the crane wings, yet the thin formation held back their blades. The Wang Family commander discovered in despair that the Fusang people all wore iron armor beneath their battle robes. This was neither Leaf Armor nor thin chainmail, but thick full-body armor forged from solid plates of iron. The horse-chopping sabers in their hands were even heavier and sharper. Forging such a long all-iron saber was harder than forging armor; with a weapon so long, the rate of failed pieces would be astonishingly high.

With every shout from that Fusang woman, the Fusang warriors shifted formation, scattering the men he had struggled to gather. By the end, he could no longer command the battle properly. Why was that damned woman so familiar with Marquis Wu's Eight Formations?

"Qin Mo... You actually gave every one of them iron armor? That's cheating..." Wang Renbi was stunned by the battle before his eyes. His men were being cut down one after another. A single strike could not kill someone wearing that kind of armor, yet those heavy horse-chopping sabers could chop his subordinates' leather armor into scraps in one blow.

"Is that so?... Hehe... If you think I'm cheating, ask Commander Chen first... And don't think about welching on the debt. Hurry and prepare my fifty thousand taels of silver."

Qin Mo could not be bothered to say more to Wang Renbi. I told you where every pit was, and you still insisted on jumping in yourself. Who was there to blame?