Mythical Version of Three Kingdom

Upon returning to camp, Hua Xiong burned down the old campsite and retreated over thirty miles, finally setting up a new camp on the opposite side of a river that was dozens of meters wide.

”General, the Hebei army has returned the bodies of our fallen brothers,” Du Yuan said, bowing his head as he spoke to Hua Xiong, who hadn’t eaten or drunk anything for an entire day.

”Go and receive the bodies,” Hua Xiong replied quietly, glancing at Du Yuan. The returned bodies were those of the Xiliang cavalry; the infantry had already brought back their fallen comrades during the retreat.

”General, you should eat something before continuing your work,” Du Yuan said with a tearful expression. War always brought death, and though Hua Xiong had experienced many victories, this didn’t mean that his luck would never run out—just like now, when his Xiliang cavalry had nearly been wiped out.

”Let me calm down first. You can leave,” Hua Xiong said, his voice cold as he looked at Du Yuan. The icy tone sent a shiver down Du Yuan’s spine, and he quietly left without saying anything more.

Sitting at the table in his tent, Hua Xiong reflected on the years of battles he’d fought alongside his men, some of whom had followed him since their days in Xiliang. Now, the cavalry that had been with him since the formation of the Xiliang cavalry was reduced to just five hundred, and every one of them was wounded.

He reached for his chest, and the pain from his broken bones brought his mind back into focus. He had come so close to death—half of his ribs were broken, and his internal organs had been pierced by his ribs. If not for his extraordinary strength, these injuries would have been fatal.

”Ju Yi, and your Xian Deng,” Hua Xiong muttered, his eyes flashing with anger. He loathed the fact that despite being a top-tier warrior with Inner Qi, he hadn’t mastered a legion’s special ability. If he had, even with Ju Yi’s military soul, Hua Xiong wouldn’t have suffered such a crushing defeat.

”It’s my fault. I’ve failed you!” Hua Xiong said bitterly, his eyes red with unshed tears. ”I was too foolish. If I were stronger, I wouldn’t have needed you to fight to the death.”

His fists clenched tightly, veins bulging as he glared northward. Then, he picked up the notes Li You had given him, detailing the three formations of the Eight Gates Golden Lock. He knew he couldn’t fully master these formations, but Chen Xi had told him about something called a ”conditioned reflex.”Though Hua Xiong didn’t fully understand the concept, he grasped the basics—train something into your body until it becomes instinctual. Chen Xi had once used two examples: the Xiliang cavalry, when ambushed, instinctively formed a wedge formation, and Zhao Yun, who instinctively counterattacked with his spear when attacked.

The reason? According to Chen Xi, it was because they had been trained so thoroughly that their reactions were automatic, regardless of the situation. That was what Hua Xiong intended to do now—he would drill the Eight Gates Golden Lock formation into his soldiers until it became second nature. If he could train his men to instinctively form a wedge formation, then perhaps, through relentless training, the Eight Gates Golden Lock wouldn’t be out of reach either.

Hua Xiong had no idea how difficult it was to imprint such a complex formation into his soldiers, but he was a man of singular focus. He didn’t concern himself with the challenges—he simply knew he had to try.

”I still have time,” Hua Xiong muttered as he memorized every key point of the formation. He lacked the talent for changing formations mid-battle and had no aptitude for developing a legion’s special abilities. So, for Hua Xiong, there was only one path forward: to etch the entire formation into his bones through sheer effort, so that it became instinctive for him and his men.

In the past, he might not have even considered such an approach, but after suffering this bitter defeat, the anger and frustration of failing to protect his comrades pushed him to become stronger.

As Hua Xiong fortified his camp on the other side of the river, both Yan Liang and Ju Yi found themselves troubled. If it were ordinary troops across the river, they would charge without hesitation, but Hua Xiong’s soldiers were as elite as Ju Yi’s own. If they attempted a crossing only to be met with an ambush, even the Xian Deng would be annihilated.

After two days of deadlock, Yu Jin, Zhang Fei, and Liu Ye finally arrived at Hua Xiong’s camp, bringing with them good news: Zhang Yan’s condition had stabilized, and against all odds, he had survived.

Seeing how much Hua Xiong had withered since their last encounter, Zhang Fei didn’t know what to say. He had already learned that the Xiliang cavalry, which had followed Hua Xiong for nearly a decade, was now reduced to just five hundred men.

”Zijian, don’t let this get you down,” Liu Ye said, trying to comfort Hua Xiong in the only way he could.

”There’s nothing to be sad about. Soldiers live and die by the sword,” Hua Xiong replied with a calmness that seemed foreign to him. But inwardly, he vowed, ”Ju Yi, we have a score to settle. Next time we meet, I’ll return all this pain to you!”

Liu Ye glanced at Hua Xiong but said nothing more. They had heard about the casualties on both sides, including Ju Yi’s Xian Deng and Yan Liang’s forces. On the battlefield, fortunes could change in an instant, and no one could predict what would happen next.

”Zijian, focus on recovering. I’ll go deal with Yan Liang,” Zhang Fei said, not knowing how else to console Hua Xiong.

”Be careful. Yan Liang may be as strong as Yun Chang now,” Hua Xiong cautioned with a sigh.

”Don’t worry!” Zhang Fei’s booming voice rattled Hua Xiong’s ears, and before Hua Xiong could warn him further, Zhang Fei had already stormed out, mounting his horse and grabbing his spear, ready to confront Yan Liang and give Hua Xiong a surprise.

But when Zhang Fei shouted across the river, all he saw were birds startled into flight. Zhang Fei paused, realizing he had seen this before. After some thought, he remembered that several military strategies mentioned such a scenario—either a trap or an empty camp.

Quickly returning to camp, Zhang Fei shouted, ”Master Liu, Master Liu, come take a look. The enemy camp might be empty!”

Before Liu Ye could respond, Zhang Fei dragged him outside. After settling Liu Ye by the riverbank, Liu Ye looked across at the enemy camp and sighed, ”I used to think Ju Yi was all brawn and no brains, but it seems he knows a trick or two. They likely left before we even arrived.”

As Liu Ye spoke, the Xian Deng forces had already engaged Wei Xu and Hao Meng’s Bingzhou cavalry in battle, signaling the beginning of a new conflict.