Quick! Faster!

Peace reigned in the Forbidden City, while the battle outside Changping raged on.

Whether Jurchen or Ming soldier, each man identified his enemies by their clothing and hacked away mechanically. Not one dared let up for even a breath. To let up was to die!

Lu Xiangsheng and Yoto had broken apart. Neither could best the other in so short a time, and a commander's foremost duty was to oversee the entire battlefield. This battle still demanded more important things of them.

Lu Xiangsheng wiped the rain from his face and swept his gaze around. "Has Chen Guowei returned?"

Yang Lukai, the officer in charge of the horses, shook his head. "Not yet!"

"It seems Gao Qiqian refuses to release the troops!" Lu Xiangsheng snorted, his voice thick with displeasure.

Gao Qiqian and Yang Sichang both favored peace, but as Lu Xiangsheng saw it, however strongly they favored peace, the Jurchens had already invaded. Surely they could not fawn over the enemy and invite them to ravage the Capital Region. Even if only for appearances, they still had to send troops.

Besides, Chen Guowei had the Golden Token. Was Gao Qiqian so brazen that he would disregard even His Majesty's Golden Token?

"Governor, disaster!" Just then, a scout came running in panic. "Commander Wang has fled!"

"What?" Lu Xiangsheng could scarcely believe his ears. With a powerful enemy before them, how could Wang Pu flee? How dared he flee?

"What happened?" Lu Xiangsheng looked east, hoping the scout had been mistaken, but all was pitch-black there, without any sign of fighting.

Wang Pu had not originally intended to flee. He had merely planned to put up a halfhearted fight. Who could have known he would face Oboi?

Born into a military family, Oboi was skilled in riding and archery. He had followed Huang Taiji on campaigns far and wide in his early years, earning great merit in the attacks on the Chahar Tribe and the invasion of Joseon. His conquest of Pi Island had further earned him the rank of third-class baron and the title Baturu.

The moment Wang Pu encountered this commander, who never turned back once he entered the battlefield, he began beating the drums of retreat. With fear in his heart, how could he defeat the enemy? He found an opening and slipped away without a trace.

With Wang Pu gone, Yang Guozhu was left alone on the perimeter, and the pressure on him multiplied.

"You bastard Wang! Just wait until I butcher you!" Yang Guozhu cursed bitterly. He shook out his aching, numb arm, then tore a strip of cloth from his underclothes and bound his sword hilt to his wrist.

After fighting so fiercely for so long, the web between his thumb and forefinger had split and was bleeding. His body was utterly exhausted, yet he could not stop swinging his sword. He feared that once he stopped, he would never have another chance to raise it.

After securing his sword hilt, Yang Guozhu roared, "Kill them!"

"Kill!"

"Kill!"

"Kill!"

The soldiers under his command followed Yang Guozhu's example, binding their sword hilts tightly to their wrists. Even in death, their blades would not leave their hands!

Ever since the Jurchens had breached the pass, every Ming force they encountered had either fled at the first sign of them or offered a brief fight before crumbling at the first clash. This had made them all the more brazen in the Capital Region, and they boasted that they would storm the Ming State's capital.

They had never expected to encounter Ming soldiers of such courage at Changping. After fighting for so long, these men still showed no intention of retreating; indeed, they seemed to grow fiercer with every clash.

Could they really win this battle?

Like Yang Guozhu, Hu Dawei was so enraged by the news of Wang Pu's flight that his eyes nearly split at the corners. He wished he could drag the man back that instant and hack him into ten thousand pieces.

But the Tartars before him were packed thick, as though no amount of hacking could ever cut them all down. Suddenly, Hu Dawei felt as if he would go on killing like this until he died of exhaustion.

But before he died, he would drag a few more Tartars down with him, no matter what!

Hu Dawei's mouth was full of bloody froth. He turned his head and spat, raised his arm to wipe the corner of his mouth, then roared and charged back into the fray.

The rain had stopped at some point, leaving only the howling wind. The darkness before dawn seemed to have deepened. Mud and blood mingled across the battlefield, horribly slick beneath every step.

Corpses lay in heaps, severed limbs scattered everywhere.

Lu Xiangsheng glanced into the distance, but there was still no sign of Chen Guowei.

I cannot wait any longer, Lu Xiangsheng thought. If we keep waiting, the entire army may be wiped out here, ruining His Majesty's grand plan.

"Pass on my order: break into small groups and withdraw!" Lu Xiangsheng turned and gave the command.

Upon receiving the order, Yang Guozhu and Hu Dawei immediately changed direction. At that same moment, Yoto noticed the Ming army's intentions.

"Trying to leave now? Too late!" Yoto's gaze turned sinister. So what if Lu Xiangsheng commanded them? The Ming army was a heap of loose sand. Once hurt, all they knew was how to run. This time was no different.

"Whoever kills Lu Xiangsheng will receive Boi servants and a noble title when we return!"

The Jurchens had breached the pass to plunder in the first place. If they could also win merit, change their station forever, and become masters who ordered slaves and servants about, the temptation was naturally immense.

For a time, Jurchen morale soared. The Ming soldiers trying to retreat were like men trapped in a mire, unable to advance a single step.

Seeing that retreat was impossible, Lu Xiangsheng stopped thinking of escape. The Tartars' arrogance sent his blood surging. He swept his Wrought-Iron Broadsword horizontally before him and charged straight at Yoto.

To capture the bandits, first capture their king. Since you refuse to let me leave, you can stay here with me!

On the open plains forty li away, a column of troops was advancing at full speed. More than ten thousand men of the Heavenly Hero Army had been assigned to Gao Qiqian, including five thousand cavalry. Chen Guowei was leading those horsemen ahead to the rescue, while Li Zhongzhen led the remaining infantry.

A faint light glimmered on the horizon. Chen Guowei was frantic with anxiety. Over the course of a day and a night, a ring of blisters had risen around his lips, burning painfully.

"Quick, faster!" Chen Guowei prayed inwardly, hoping only that his rescue would still come in time.

Heaven seemed to have heard his plea. Just then, faint cries of battle reached his ears, and the blurred outline of the camp finally came into view.

"Heavenly Hero Army, follow me! Charge-!" Seeing that the battle was still underway, Chen Guowei felt relief wash over him. He drew the broadsword at his waist and urged his horse into an even faster charge.

Lu Xiangsheng had built the Heavenly Hero Army himself. He always led from the front and shared his soldiers' hardships and comforts, winning their loyalty and forging them into a formidable fighting force.

Once, just two thousand men of the Heavenly Hero Army had defeated more than ten thousand of Gao Yingxiang's heavily armored cavalry.

The arrival of the Heavenly Hero Army instantly reversed the situation on the battlefield. Yoto could not believe it. Gao Qiqian would never send reinforcements, no matter what. Where had these men come from?

Then he heard them call themselves the Heavenly Hero Army, and realization dawned on him.

There was no need to linger in battle. Bitterly unwilling though he was, Yoto ordered a retreat.

No one ordered a pursuit. The battle ended there!

In the full light of day, the camp was a bloody wreck. Chen Guowei dismounted and searched the crowd. "Where is the governor? Where is he?"

The surviving soldiers were utterly exhausted. They slumped onto the ground without a care for anything else, turning deaf ears to Chen Guowei's questions. They were simply too tired-too tired to speak or even move another finger.

"Governor Lu! Governor!" Chen Guowei shouted. He did not realize his voice was trembling, afraid as he was of hearing bad news.

"Stop shouting. He's over here!" Just then, Hu Dawei emerged from behind a collapsed wooden frame and waved him over.

Chen Guowei strode forward and found Lu Xiangsheng sitting against the wooden frame, with Yang Guozhu and Hu Dawei seated on either side of him. All three were drenched in blood, and there was no telling whether it was their own or someone else's.

"Governor, are you all right?" Lu Xiangsheng looked haggard and bedraggled. His sodden clothes and boots dripped bloody water. His shoulder armor had vanished, exposing the military tunic beneath, and his breastplate had been split open and hung crookedly across his chest. His face was smeared with blood and grime, and loose strands of hair had slipped from his helmet and clung to his cheeks.

"I arrived too late. I submit myself to your punishment, Governor!" Chen Guowei knelt to beg forgiveness.

Lu Xiangsheng waved his hand. "All that matters is that you came!"

"By the way, where is Commander Wang?" Chen Guowei rose and glanced around as he asked.