Chapter Twenty-Eight: A Severed Head Bears Witness; Host and Guest Reverse Positions

Chengde District, Yuan Residence.

General Yang Hu of the Weidong Army had divided his troops into two groups of five hundred men each, positioned to the north and south. He personally led one contingent to block the south side, cutting off any escape for those in the Yuan Residence, while his trusted subordinate, Yu Lian, commanded the other to form a battle line to the north. Together, they created a pincer formation.

Grand General Luo Gan had deployed archers and crossbowmen to occupy the surrounding high walls and buildings, while his armored infantry held the long street. Though outnumbered, their formation remained impeccable, bolstered by the Yuan guards.

The two armies stood in a standoff. Neither side acted rashly, opting instead to stall for time with aggressive verbal exchanges.

Grand General Luo Gan denounced Young Master Jiu as a cold-blooded parricide and a man without virtue; in turn, General Yang Hu accused Luo Gan of rebelling against moral order and harboring treacherous intent for his own selfish gain.

It was all merely a stalling tactic.

Luo Gan was waiting for his comrades to break free from their constraints and come to his aid—if the golden-crowned knight could secure the head of Young Master Jiu, that would be ideal, though the Grand General dared not pin his hopes on it.

General Yang Hu was waiting for Young Master Jiu to arrive with reinforcements.

As for the golden-crowned knight who had ridden alone toward the Heavenly Street to intercept Young Master Jiu, Yang Hu felt no concern. Had it been a phantom-like assassin, he might have been wary. But a warrior who charged head-on with a halberd on horseback? Unless he could single-handedly shatter the formation of the Jinwu Guards, he posed no threat to Young Master Jiu.

Charging an enemy line required technique; not every formation could be broken. Against a demoralized, weak army, a great warrior could charge in, swing his blade, and fell a dozen men, triggering a rout. But against a well-trained, heavily armored, and high-spirited force, an impetuous charge would only lead to a blade being blocked, followed by the warrior being swarmed from all sides. Even if his armor could withstand the strikes, he would be dragged from his horse and beaten to death—no amount of martial skill could save him there.

The Jinwu Guards were, at minimum, ninth-rank powerhouses, with every squad leader at least an eighth-rank martial artist. They were all equipped with superior armor. How could one easily carve a bloody path through such a formation? Furthermore, the Jinwu Guards included several fourth or fifth-rank experts, not to mention Shi Lie, known as the strongest man in the State of Wu. Success for the golden-crowned knight seemed unlikely—and that was without considering the innate-level masters serving the Royal Court.

General Yang Hu was full of confidence, but Grand General Luo Gan felt uneasy. After trading a few more insults with Yang Hu, Luo Gan leaned toward Lin Zhong and whispered, "Nephew Lin, what is your fifth brother's level of cultivation exactly? Can he really break the Jinwu formation?"

He did not expect Lu Wu to kill Young Master Jiu; he only hoped he could create enough chaos to tie up the Jinwu Guards, allowing his comrades to break free and arrive in time. Without outside help, these five hundred men would never escape Songjing City, let alone the Chengde District.

"Er, my fifth brother—" Lin Zhong hesitated, sweat beading on his forehead.

Heaven knew what his brother’s cultivation was. The mere rumors of Lu Wu carving his way into the city from the outskirts had already shattered Lin Zhong’s previous perception of him. If the Grand General asked him, who was he supposed to ask?

Seeing the sweat on Lin Zhong’s brow, Luo Gan knew he held little hope for the young man. He sighed, waved his hand, and ordered his armored infantry to push south. It was time to fight for their lives; if they waited for Young Master Jiu to arrive with his two battalions of Jinwu Guards, they would lose their final chance.

Just as Luo Gan gave the order, the northern line suddenly collapsed into chaos.

A lone rider tore through the ranks like a ship cleaving through waves. Limbs and shattered armor flew, and screams merged into a chorus of agony. In the blink of an eye, the rider breached the formation and arrived before Grand General Luo Gan.

As his personal guards moved to protect him, the rider pulled a head from his saddle and tossed it over. "Here. This is the head of Young Master Jiu."

A great clamor erupted. Luo Gan, stunned, caught the head and stared at it—it was indeed Young Master Jiu!

Luo Gan was overwhelmed with joy.

"It is done. The head is here. Brother-in-law, let us go, lest the third sister worry." Lu Wu, looking exhausted, urged his black steed toward Lin Zhong, reaching out to pull him onto the horse.

Lin Zhong waved him off repeatedly. Having braced themselves for a near-suicidal breakout, they now found the tide turned entirely in their favor. This was the moment to claim the glory of a successful coup. To leave now would be madness.

"Fifth brother, you have fought a bitter battle and must be severely injured. How could you possibly fight your way out of the city tonight? If something were to happen to you, how would I face Uncle Lu or the third sister? Do not force yourself! Go to the residence and rest. Grand General, please, arrange for a physician to examine my brother."

Lin Zhong would not tell his brother that he was being foolish—having done ninety percent of the work to secure the throne, only to hand the credit away at the last moment. Instead, he emphasized Lu Wu's exhaustion and injuries to keep him from leaving, effectively signaling to Grand General Luo Gan that Lu Wu was in no condition to continue fighting.

Indeed, everyone could see Lu Wu's state.

His heavy black iron armor was shattered, nearly half of it gone. His inner garments were torn, revealing skin bruised a dark, sickly blue—the result of massive blunt force trauma. The remaining armor bore seven or eight deep, distorted handprints, as if someone had gripped the metal and left their palm prints embedded in it. His golden crown was reduced to shards, held in place only by half a hairpin.

The bronze shaft of his halberd was twisted as if two titans had grabbed either end and wrenched it in opposite directions. The blade and crescent moon edge, forged from rare dark iron—a material nearly indestructible and far heavier than standard metal—had been beaten flat, rendering the weapon little more than a fire poker. The crescent blade was bent and mangled beyond recognition.

Seeing this, no one doubted that he was severely injured and in need of rest.

"Yes, yes! Someone, take General Lu to rest! Find the best physician and the best medicine in the residence! General Lu, you must take care of yourself," Luo Gan ordered urgently. Although Lu Wu held no official rank, a warrior who could dominate the field was recognized as a general by all in the martial path.

With the northern battalion routed and unable to regroup, a hundred men would be enough to sweep them aside. And as for the southern battalion under Yang Hu—with the head of Young Master Jiu in hand, victory was assured.