The Demon Lords

Chapter 568 67 Refer to _1

The Black Dragon flag, carrying an air of arrogant dominance, galloped across the snowy plains.

After the great war between Yan, Jin, and Qian ended, a sentiment had emerged among the military families of Qian State's Imperial Capital Guard: it wasn't just that they were incompetent; look at the Yanjing Imperial Guard of the Yan people—weren't they just as useless? This viewpoint reeked of shamelessness, but in a certain sense, it did describe an existing truth.

That is, throughout the great war, Yan State had mobilized nearly 300,000 troops. There were Li Fusheng and Li Bao's 60,000 iron cavalry, who advanced directly to the Qian imperial capital; Lord Jingnan and the Earl of North Border led 200,000 iron cavalry in a ten-day forced march and bloody campaign, annihilating half of Jin State; and Xu Wenzu, with his commanders, fought to the death below Nanwang City, never retreating. In these numerous bloody battles, the only notable absence was that of the Imperial Guard from Yan's capital, Yanjing.

After the war began, the Yanjing Imperial Guard was split in two. One contingent, led by the Eldest Prince Ji Wujiang, was dispatched to assist in the defense of Beifeng Prefecture. Ultimately, the Barbarians never advanced from the east, and not a single arrow was loosed. The other contingent was stationed along the Horse Hoof Mountain line. While they initially seemed to be locked in a fierce stalemate with the Jin people, only the high command knew that the true main force actually consisted of the 50,000 troops from the Jingnan Army's rear camp.

Thus, the military elite and noble families of Qian's imperial capital naturally had their arguments: "Look how much we cost the state treasury each year, yet when war comes, we can barely field a presentable force. But then, look at Yan's Imperial Capital Guard—what battles have *they* fought?" Ultimately, it all came down to the strength of the field armies. The conclusion drawn was that Qian State's disastrous performance in that war was due to the incompetence of its border armies, having nothing to do with "us, the gentlemen of the Imperial Guard."

However, with the Qian Emperor's crackdown and reorganization of the Imperial Guard, numerous nobles were dispossessed and exiled, and such foolish rhetoric quickly vanished.

Regardless, Yan's North Border Army and Jingnan Army, these two field armies, had already become premier fighting forces of the age. Previously, when the Yan people discussed their own military strength, they would include the Imperial Guard to form a "triumvirate." Now, even the Yan people themselves no longer bothered, recognizing only the two renowned field armies.

The Jingnan Army did not charge. Instead, they advanced in an orderly fashion, projecting an immense pressure with their steady pace. Their horse hooves thundered, yet no soldier glanced left or right; they moved as one tightly integrated machine. This grim discipline and order, visible even from afar, were enough to strike terror into the hearts of the nearby herdsmen.

The herdsmen living on the snowy plains were accustomed to facing wild beasts and harsh environments, making them naturally sensitive to threats. When this black torrent appeared before their eyes, the first reaction of many herdsmen was despair. This was no exaggeration, nor could they be called cowards. After all, only the ignorant are blindly fearless; conversely, only a seasoned eye could discern the true danger.

Angda sat on his horse, gazing at the black "cloud" before him. At this moment, he felt no admiration for his King's "unerring foresight" or "advance preparations."

His heart was heavy, incredibly oppressed.

The Yan people... they had truly come. That Black Dragon flag, symbolizing a nightmare, had finally unfurled its terrifying visage upon the snowy plains!

The dark cloud halted before them, seemingly adhering to some ancient war etiquette—both sides forming ranks before engaging in a true charge. But what this displayed was not merely "respect"; it was, even more so, a confident fearlessness.

Que Mu had already donned his armor. His build rivaled Fanli's, though his mount was a wild boar covered in scale-like armor. Those who haven't lived near mountain forests wouldn't understand how terrifying wild boars are. Though they share the name "boar" with domesticated pigs, they are an entirely different concept. And the wild boar beneath Que Mu was clearly a type of demonic beast.

"Que Mu, take your warriors and ride east! Go tell the King—the Yan people, they're truly here!" Angda said.

Hearing this, Que Mu, who had been spoiling for a fight, was stunned. He immediately roared, "Angda, do you want me to be a coward!"

"This isn't cowardice! We must get this news to the King immediately! Besides, the Yan army outnumbers us."

"So what? The Jin people had plenty of soldiers last time, and didn't we defeat them all the same?"

"Foolish!" Angda glared furiously at Que Mu. "You are a warrior of the King! Your everything should be dedicated to the King! Please, swallow your pride and inform the King of what is happening here!"

"Sending a tribal warrior back is enough! I, Que Mu, will never be a deserter! And I will show you that these Yan people you fear are not so terrifying!"

Que Mu waved his hand. Two warriors behind him raised their horns.

The mournful sound of the horns echoed.

The wild people of the snowy plains are, on the whole, somewhat more "civilized" than those in the Skybreak Mountain Range. At least, they are more experienced in warfare. This horn call was basically universal, blown only when the various tribes summoned their warriors.

As the horns sounded, tremors came from the rear flanks. Young warriors from nearby tribes spontaneously began to gather. Some were led by their tribal chieftains personally; others, disregarding their chieftains' objections, mounted their warhorses, grabbed their bows and arrows, and rode out.

This scene surprised Angda. In recent days, the nearby tribes had only delivered food and water as scheduled, without expressing submission or allegiance. Moreover, Angda himself had avoided stirring up trouble, believing their submission was only a matter of time. Once the King arrived, everything here would become the King's domain. But he hadn't expected that this companion, whom he had always considered all brawn and no brains, had quietly established connections with so many warriors from the neighboring tribes during this time.

Que Mu raised the large iron club in his hand and roared, "Warriors of the Holy Tribe! Before you stand the enemies who seek to trample our homes! Under the protection of the stars, let us tear them apart! Let us use their blood and skulls to consecrate our starry sky!"

The surrounding wild people warriors roared in unison.

Angda knew he had lost control of this force, even though he was, nominally, its supreme commander.

Que Mu turned to Angda and said, "Long ago, our ancestors retreated before the remnants of the Xia Dynasty. We abandoned our homeland, retreated into the mountains, and then retreated back to these snowy plains. Yet the Jin people were still not satisfied! They schemed to drive us from these snowy plains once more! The current plight of the Holy Tribe is because we retreated too much! It was the King, the King who taught me that we cannot retreat anymore! We must resist! We must fight!"

"Angda, I know what you fear. But have you considered this: if we retreat, you might preserve these five thousand warriors, but you will be abandoning the numerous nearby tribes—tens of thousands of our Holy Tribe people, along with their communities and flocks—to the Yan people. Look at these Holy Tribe warriors rushing here to aid us! They have gathered here, summoned by the King's might and prestige! They yearn to fight for the future of the Holy Tribe under the King's banner! What they want is a King who dares to lead them in baring their fangs to the outside world, not a great chieftain who only knows how to flee at critical moments!"

"Angda, you once ventured with the King to see the world beyond. So please, tell me—tell this fool who has never left the snowy plains in his entire life—if we lose even our courage, what else will we have left on this desolate expanse?"

Angda remained silent.

"Angda, you are the sage I respect most; your wisdom has always astounded me. But I only understand one principle: when a wolf pack comes to your tribe trying to snatch your sheep, if you show fear and hesitate, the wolves will devour you along with them! Angda, go back. Tell the King that the Black Dragon flag of the Yan people has appeared on the snowy plains. I will delay the Yan advance for you, and for the King."

Angda took a deep breath, raised his hand, and said, "Que Mu, perhaps you are right. But please, select other warriors to carry the message back. I, Angda, am no coward who clings to life. Very well, I accept your choice, but please, respect mine as well."

Que Mu looked at Angda and shook his head. "I will not retreat."

"I am not asking you to retreat. But before the battle truly begins, let me speak with the Yan people opposite us. The King is currently focused on dealing with those Jin people from the Situ Family. The King does not wish to open hostilities with the Yan people at this juncture."

"I will accompany you."

"No, you stay here. You must lead these warriors. I will go alone."

"It's too dangerous."

"Que Mu, have you always thought me, Angda, a coward who fears death?"

With that, Angda spurred his horse forward—one man, one horse—towards the Yan Army formation ahead.

Closer. Ever closer. So close that he could almost hear the RUSTLE of the Black Dragon flag in the wind.

"Draw!"

The front-rank knights of the Jingnan Army began to draw their bows and nock their arrows.

Tian Wujing raised his hand and gestured to his right.

"Hold!"

The archers lowered their bows, allowing the lone wild people rider to approach.

Angda's gaze swept unceasingly over the disciplined formation before him. It was an extremely familiar aura. However, these troops were likely not from Beifeng Prefecture. The armor of the North Border Army wasn't so gleaming; they preferred the weathered, ancient hue that came from being battered by wind and sand. Looking further, he saw the general in the center of their formation, clad in gilded armor and mounted on a Pixiu.

Angda had seen the Earl of North Border's Pixiu. He and the King had marveled at how such exotic beasts were nearly impossible to find, even within the Skybreak Mountain Range, which teemed with demonic beasts. The Pixiu before him, in terms of bloodline, was likely no inferior to the Earl of North Border's mount. Therefore, the exalted status of the man before him was practically self-evident.

Angda rode up to the Yan Army's front line and reined in his horse. For a moment, an absurd sense of kinship welled up in his heart. Although the Yan Army before him was not the North Border Army he knew, they possessed a similar spirit. This spirit resonated within him; for a time, he had even been captivated by it. That year in Beifeng Prefecture, when he had received his monthly stipend and was drinking with the King, the King had asked—seemingly of Angda, yet also of himself—If you stayed, and strove to become a true knight of the North Border Army, would you be willing?

Would you be willing?

Would you be willing?

Would you be willing?

Angda dismounted, dropped to one knee, clenched his right fist, and struck his left breast. He then cried out loudly, "Angda, Squad Leader, First Column, Third Camp, East Auxiliary Troops, formerly under the Earl of North Border, pays his respects to Lord Jingnan!"

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Recently, my condition has improved, and I plan to start writing large chapters as before. However, to prevent everyone from waiting, I will publish this chapter first.

In the previous chapter, the wild people's self-address should be "Holy Tribe," which has been corrected.

Many thanks to Xi Yue Bing's Cat for becoming the 83rd Lord of Molin!