by Tao Wong
The drums changed.
***
“Do you have any more of those talismans?” Wu Ying shouted at Bai Hu. When the man looked at him, puzzled by the sudden change of topic and his blood loss, Wu Ying clarified. “That’s the sound of the retreat.”
Rather than answering Wu Ying, Bai Hu scrambled for the ladder. He slid down, almost knocking aside one of the ascending soldiers. Wu Ying cursed—for a moment later, the lines of power that had surrounded the enemy cultivator broke, freeing the man to swing his sword at Wu Ying. A hasty block sent Wu Ying crashing into the wall, barely holding onto his dao and allowing it to clip his body. The dao he wielded shrieked, sparks flying as the enemy cultivator threw another series of cuts that Wu Ying blocked.
“Go!” Wu Ying shouted, hoping Li Yao heard.
Wu Ying had no time to look behind him as he fought for his life. His opponent had the Sense of the Sword, a grasp of the weapon in a way few martial artists had. If Wu Ying had not reached that same level of understanding himself, this fight would have been over already.
A part of the issue was the fact that Wu Ying was wielding a dao, the weapon limiting his options, as did the narrow footing of the wall’s battlements. On the other hand, he was also grateful, for the heavy-handed strikes the enemy cultivator used were already chipping away at the heavier, thicker sword. Focused on defense, Wu Ying gave up ground unwillingly, eking out each inch that he was forced back. Too far back, and he would be forced away from the ladder, unable to escape.
A flash of green in his peripheral vision as a familiar sword’s aura came skittering along the edge of his senses, then a flash of green as it struck his opponent’s gauntleted arm. Li Yao perched precariously on the wall, leaning around Wu Ying as she struck at the enemy. Her attack had done no damage, at least not visibly, though the armored cultivator stepped back, allowing Wu Ying to regain the tempo.
“I’m going first!” Li Yao cried out, scrambling down the ladder, trusting her boyfriend to save himself.
Even as she ran, Wu Ying threw himself at the enemy cultivator, unleashing a flurry of blows. Dragon in a Tempest was a series of strikes Wu Ying rarely used, especially not with a jian. Building up the momentum on the lighter weapon was tough. It was well suited to the dao though, especially when used correctly.
For once inside the enemy cultivator’s range, Wu Ying was able to force the larger, stronger enemy to change grips, to fight holding the weapon halfway up the blade. Even as Wu Ying thought that he might have a chance, an arrow bounced off his shoulder pauldron, throwing off his timing a little. In a fight like this, even a small advantage would turn the tide.
That fraction of a pause forced back Wu Ying again, a shoulder strike sending Wu Ying stumbling away. As his opponent shifted grips, ready to swing again, Wu Ying flicked his gaze about and found himself alone on the battlements.
Surrounded by enemies, death imminent, Wu Ying took the better option—throwing his weapon at the enemy cultivator and himself off the battlement. Wind rushed past his face as he reached sideways to grip the edge of the ladder, twisting his trajectory and feeling the strain on his muscles. He reoriented himself, feet tucked close as he hit the wall before he kicked off, throwing himself clear of the attacks above and the ladder below. As he fell, Wu Ying hoped that he was right and his reinforced, sturdier body could take the damage.
If not, his hasty escape would mean a hastier death.
Chapter 16
The retreat from the front lines was a hurried affair. Thankfully, after they reached about fifty yards from the wall, the defenders no longer shot at them. Wu Ying could not tell whether or not it was because they felt no need to or because the enemy general was conserving his ammunition. In either case, Wu Ying was thankful, as he limped back to camp, helped along by Tou Hei, who carried his friend and a shield.
The fall itself had, predictably, done a little damage to him. A twisted ankle, shocked knees and hips, and a throb in his back where he had rolled into the fall. All that time reinforcing his body, increasing his cultivation, had increased Wu Ying’s sturdiness, his ability to take a fall. He wasn’t Lady Pan, who had used her qinggong skills to avoid any damage, but he had managed to roll with the fall, absorbing some of the shock. Even as he scrambled away, keeping an eye out for another arrow attack, Wu Ying knew that all of this would help him progress his body cultivation.
As he limped along, returning in ignominious defeat with the rest of his army, Wu Ying could not help but stare at the corpses littering the ground. Some brave soldiers were hurrying into the no-man’s-land and carrying the injured back to their lines. It was a dangerous task as no moment of parley had been called, no guarantee that they would not be shot while doing so. Still, the soldiers risked their lives for their friends, helping the few who had survived. To live another day. Perhaps.
By some of the screams, the way blood bubbled from pierced chests or around wounded limbs, they might not either. Inflammation, infection, diseases of the lung and blood all held hidden dangers for the wounded.
As Wu Ying limped back, he listened to the cries of pain, smelled the refuse of voided bowels and the stink of iron from spilt blood. He heard sobs and whimpers, soldiers calling for parents who were not present, and saw others staring numbly at the fallen. He saw a soldier who crouched on the ground, wounded not in body but broken in his soul, unable to move. Wu Ying could understand that. Even the chi of the battlefield felt strange, transformed by the mixture of death and loss that surrounded them all. He noticed the energy that had spread around them all, building upon their bodies and sending surges of unwanted ecstasy and energy.
In the end, Wu Ying could only hope that their army had gained something from this debacle. What it could be, what could be worth the loss of so many men, he did not know. Then again, he was no general. He was just a simple peasant cultivator.
***
Tou Hei and Wu Ying made their way to the medical tents. Having found a little energy while they walked back, Wu Ying had insisted they help some of the other wounded soldiers. He did not need to convince Tou Hei much, and soon even the other cultivators joined them, each of them helping one of the wounded.
The medical tents were the most familiar aspect of the army to Wu Ying. After all, during his tenure in the army, he’d spent most of it in those same tents. The smell of spilled and drying blood, the cloying tang of herbs and poultices, and the retching of soldiers brought back less-than-pleasant memories. Even so, that experience allowed him to quickly pick out the location of the appropriate triage spot.
“Do you need help?” one of the medics asked Wu Ying, looking over his bruised and limping form.
“No. Take care of them. I’ll heal myself,” Wu Ying replied.
The medic’s lips curled up but he did not protest, already hurrying to help the wounded. Wu Ying turned to find that Tou Hei was hurrying off, headed to the no-man’s-land. As Wu Ying took a step to join him, a hand landed on his arm.
“Don’t be silly. You’re injured. It will be more of a hindrance than a help for you to go,” Li Yao said to Wu Ying.
“I can still help.”
“Then help me. I need to report in,” said Li Yao.
She inclined her head toward the center of the camp, where the vice-general probably awaited her. For a moment, she looked uncertain, her usual bouncy demeanor disappearing. She had been in charge of the cultivator team after all. Wu Ying nodded at his girlfriend, following her to the tent where the commanders waited.
What followed was not as bad as he had expected, for the commanders had had a view of the entire proceedings and, considering the cultivators had at least made it to the walls, had little to complain about. The commanders had numerous other issues to deal with as well, so they were quickly dismissed.
Along the way, Wu Ying learned that Li Yao and the rest of the team had been released days before him, leaving them free to take on assignments for the army. The assignments had earned them a number of contribution p
oints, which Li Yao had been quite happy to showcase to Wu Ying, leading him to the army commissary. Along the way, she made sure that he received his own army token to register his participation in the attack.
“Four thousand contribution points?” Wu Ying asked the commissary officer. It sounded like a high number, but he had no comparison.
“Regular soldiers get between ten and twenty contribution points for participating in the attack itself. As cultivators, we have a higher base number, but even our other assignments were only worth a few hundred at most.” Li Yao frowned, turning the military token around in her hand before she looked at the army personnel in charge of the assignments. “Why is this so high?”
“Because you survived.” The officer smirked at the pair of cultivators. “Base rate is a thousand points for a first wave, first attack. Then we have your contribution because you’re from the Verdant Green Waters. Then you get a contribution increase due to your cultivation base, then a survival bonus for those who returned, which almost doubles your return.”
“What can I buy with these contribution points?” Wu Ying asked. He vaguely recalled the contribution points mechanism from before, but he hadn’t thought it was so elaborate. Then again, he hadn’t exactly been in the army for long. Or contributed to anything.
“The usual. Better food, better weapons, some martial styles. Training by some of our elite members. There are even cultivation manuals, though I doubt you lot will want that.” The officer flicked his gaze up and down the pair of cultivators. “Nothing we have would suit you people. Of course, you could change it for coin or hang on to the contribution amounts and trade in at headquarters. There’s a lot more there.”
Wu Ying raised an eyebrow, but it made sense. All those wandering cultivators, they joined not just for coin but the opportunity to find martial styles and cultivation manuals. It was an opportunity for them to improve themselves, something that did not come along often for those who did not join a sect. Still, they had a level of freedom that sect members did not.
“And what would four thousand contribution points get me?” Wu Ying asked.
“We have some protective talismans for sale at that price. Some low-grade martial styles. Access to the officers’ mess hall.” When Wu Ying looked less than impressed, the man shrugged. “It’s only four thousand points. Any equipment of value is in the tens of thousands of points, especially when we’re in the field. You might be able to find something more when we’re back, but it’s not as if we carry the armory with us.”
Having been disappointed, Wu Ying and Li Yao left to find their friends. They checked back at the medical center first, only to be thrown out. Since neither of them were physicians, they had little to offer other than a warm body. Even the wounded had stopped being brought in by this point—only corpses being moved off the field to be buried in a different location. No one wanted a high accumulation of yin chi to form. That was how you got jiangshi and ghosts, even maybe formed gates to the demonic plane. The priests would be working all night, purifying the corpses and laying them to rest. While the losses were still few, the army would do their best to honor their dead. Later on, Wu Ying knew, that option might disappear and mass cremation would be chosen.
With nothing much left to do, Wu Ying returned to his tent to rest his wounded body. He would need to cultivate and work the Iron Bones technique, making the best use of the damage to reinforce his body. After all, he was certain that he had more injuries to look forward to.
***
To Wu Ying’s surprise, when he woke the next day, rumors were already spreading that another attack was imminent. All through the night, sappers had been working on extending the pits and other lines of cover, offering the next wave additional safety to attack the defenders from. Siege weapons continued to throw rocks at the walls, damaging the archery towers and slowly breaking apart the reinforced wooden gates and their support structures. In the meantime, workmen were making even more assault covers and sky ladders, the necessary siege weapons to ensure that they could mount the walls.
Of course, Wu Ying wondered why they had not assaulted the gates on the first attack but was quickly dissuaded of that notion. It seemed that the gates were often the most reinforced position in a wall, with many reinforced with multiple formations to stop, harm, and destroy attackers. While the army would continue to batter the gates, it was easier and better to go over the walls. At least for now.
When Li Yao appeared, Wu Ying broke away from his conversation from the wandering cultivators and asked, “Are we joining the attack?”
Li Yao shook her head, a wry smile twisting her lips. “We are joining the fifth wave. Because of our previous involvement, we are unlikely to get called upon unless they do manage a breakthrough.”
Wu Ying raised an eyebrow, but it was Yin Xue who spoke first. “Are they likely to break through? They didn’t even activate their defensive formations last time.”
“Unlikely,” Liu Tsong said, appearing from behind the cultivators. They turned to the older woman, waiting for her to explain. “This is all to soften them up. The real assault will come later.”
“A lot of wasted lives for little gain,” Tou Hei said disapprovingly.
“He has little choice there,” Li Yao said. “The general needs to learn what formations and what cultivators are inside. The only way to do so is to push them. I do not think he has any spies in there. And even if he did, I do not know how much he could rely on them.”
Liu Tsong nodded, smiling approvingly at Li Yao. She let her gaze rake over the group before she spoke again. “I will not be with you all for now. I have my own duties with Chao Kun. Watch yourselves.” As the group all nodded, Liu Tsong added, “And stop taking so many risks.”
She stared at Wu Ying at her last words, as if she knew it was him who needed that warning the most. He snorted but accepted her well wishes and sent her off with thanks. Together, the group headed to their assigned position, where they stood in line, forced to wait.
“I still don’t think we have the full picture,” Yin Xue complained. “There’s no need to throw away so many lives.”
“You think they’re rushing this for another reason?” Bao Cong asked.
“Yes. What worries me is that there might be a second army, one coming for us.” Yin Xue looked away, eyes raking over the looming mountains surrounding them. If they were caught in here…
“There are no armies coming,” Li Yao said. “I’ve checked with the scouts. No signs at all. Anyway, you remember your father’s map. The closest army was the Wei reserve, and that was nearly a month away.”
Yin Xue nodded, but that pensive frown did not leave his face.
Wu Ying glanced at Tou Hei, who offered him a shrug and mouthed, “Amitabha.”
It was true. What would be would be.
***
A rock soared through the air, banking gracefully before it smashed into the wall. Stone crumbled, and the rock itself bounced off, landing a short distance away from where the siege ladders were rolling forward. As if the artillerymen foretold the distances, no additional fire appeared. Instead, soldiers from both sides exchanged fire, crossbow bolts and the occasional arrow winging between both armies.
Like the previous battle, a wave of assault covers had approached first, allowing infantry and crossbowmen to near the city. This time, the second wave of assault covers had approached as well, bringing with them a larger number of fighters while the assault covers were drawn back. In turn, the defenders sent fewer volleys of talisman arrows, leaving a larger number of the assault covers intact to make it back to the lines.
All this, Wu Ying watched from the safety of the fifth wave. The constant creak of ropes twisting, the twang of bows, and the shrieks of falling men resounded through the air. He watched as the brave and foolhardy threw themselves forward, attacking intact walls, firing arrows and killing the occasional defender. Infantrymen, crouched in their holes, dug furiously as they extended and built up their defense
s, propping up shields while the crossbowmen and archers exchanged fire with the defenders.
The sky ladders had moved forward, but this time, they held back just outside the range of the trebuchets, just outside retaliation, as if the general taunted the defenders. Daring them to sally forth and destroy the ladders. Instead, the trebuchets fired, wearing away at the walls.
For long hours, the army stood, baking in the heat of the midday sun. Others ran back and forth, offering liquid refreshment and later on, chewed hardtack for meals. The soldiers in the army began to rotate, each wave moving forward to take the vanguard position.
During the fourth hour after noon, as the sun slowly banked toward the horizon, the battle changed. Already, the soldiers who had been attacking had wearied, many having pulled back under cover of the assault covers as replacements arrived. As the assault covers returned with the latest wave of weary soldiers, the cultivators came.
The Six Jade Gates Sect members dropped from the walls, some kicking off in midair, others using ropes to help break their fall, while a small number—like Wu Ying the day before—just dropped and absorbed the fall. They rushed forward, launching chi-filled attacks at nearby assault covers, flames and earth erupting and tearing apart the siege weapons. A rotating whirlwind of metal and air flashed over to a cover vehicle and wood shrieked as it was torn apart, exposing the soldiers within to the metallic storm.
Their attacks destroyed some of the covers, wrecked roofs and shattered wheels. Other attacks were more obtuse, still green wood warping and growing, twisting as they drew upon the remaining nutrients in their forms and the chi infused in the attacks to trap and tear apart their occupants.