Martial King's Retired Life

Volume 11 Chapter 77 What Did You Say About Luo Clan? Learning Fear.

“Impossible!”

Twenty thousand?! Impossible! I would’ve known if Baimu and Wanyu mobilised their forces. Even if I’m borderline deaf, there’s no way I would’ve missed the sound of their forces mobilising.

Gewu hadn’t lost his cool yet, not after almost a century of practice. He lowered his volume but spoke through his teeth. “… What is their gear like?”

“Poorer than ours, but…”

Sky Palace’s gear provided an extra boost to the soldiers in Nieyao, especially when facing off against foot soldiers, so that was a good start.

“But what?”

“Their equipment is also sophisticated. Based on the designs, there is no mistake… it is the Nine Provinces’ imperial army’s gear.”

The Nine Provinces? Why are they getting involved? Ming Feizhen may be in the employment of the Central Plain’s imperial court, but there’s no way he has enough weight to mobilise their military. The closest city of the Central Plain is Xiuyu. How would Ming Feizhen persuade a Prince to march? No, even if he could, how did they come all the way here without me knowing?

“Great Spirit Shaman, our forces are being driven back. Our vanguard has crumbled. The reinforcements have been cut off and cannot meet up with our vanguard. Please give orders!”

As more and more negative reports came in, Gewu hit the table with his hand, only to almost keel over. “… Ridiculous! It hasn’t even been four hours since the battle commenced. We possess the terrain advantage. Who could lead them so proficiently?” A name thereupon came to mind that muted Gewu’s prattling.

The messenger voiced, “The enemy commander is… Martial Paragon, Feng Xue. He is riding alone at the front with without the trinity generals. He made himself appear as bait, but then he cut off our reinforcements’ route.”

Gewu withered in the face. The enemy had accounted for his overwhelming advantage and used it against him. From the very beginning, he was marching to his defeat. Upon breaking free of his petrification, he silently hobbled away.

***

Even if they were two hundred men less, eight hundred Qilin Guards are still nothing to scoff at. After all, they were the strongest group present. Ming Feizhen didn’t need to worry about the vanguard. Therefore, he focused on other parts of the battlefield.

Abels small unit took on the scout role and took out any dangerous people on the way using guerrilla warfare. Moyan Luohou and his fifty disciples also assisted Abels’ unit as scouts and a guerrilla warfare detachment.

Feng Xue’s leadership didn’t just reverse the odds but also raised troop morale. The enemy vanguard of two thousand was disconnected from their reinforcements, forcing them to push forward if they didn’t want to be swamped from the rear, as well. Hence, the main force had become a reserve unit, although the main force consisted of only Ming Feizhen, Hong Jiu, Luo Ming and Luo Siming.

As a result of Feng Xue’s tactic, the enemy vanguard chose to abandon formation in hopes of escaping Nieyao. Fortunately, some of them made it to the doors of Nieyao despite the enemy pursuit from the rear. Unfortunately, in the “safe zone” was the main force.

Luo Ming rode up to the front and saluted Ming Feizhen. “As this is the trap you laid, how about you go first?”

“I would not dare to cut in front of Heavenly Swordsman. I shall let you do the honours, Elder.”

“Making an old man fight first, how sly.”

Among the thousand armoured troops who made it to the other side of Nieyao, some of them still remembered the swordsman who instilled fear in them a decade ago. Had the dragons not been mobilised, they wouldn’t have had the chance to live for another decade. Nonetheless, they didn’t spend the last decade they were granted twiddling their thumbs. They no longer needed to pose as evil spirits of Shaman Monarch Palace to scare people off. They had four dragons behind them and thousands more troops, while Heavenly Swordsman no longer had his brothers and sons he could put his faith in. He no longer looked as frightening as he once did.

“Luo Clan is finished.” The axe-wielding general taunted, “He’s just a decrepit old man. We can squash him with our sheer numbers alone! Luo Ming, Luo Clan is history! You have no one to survive you! Get off your horse so that I can kill you!”

Maybe it was because of the enemy’s fierce gazes that Luo Ming’s horses halted of its own volition. Luo Ming closed his eyes, then stated, “Finally here.”

Two thousand armour-clad soldiers road through the doors of Nieyao from behind Luo Ming. No longer could Gewu’s soldiers claim they had the superior gear because Huzhou’s elites had entered the battle.

True to his name, Feng Jian kicked up more and more dust as his speed climbed, sending him straight to the front of the elites. Subsequent to crashing a soldier away, Feng Jian and his horse leapt up, landing deep in enemy territory. Upon dismounting, he demonstrated speed superior to his horse, flitting through the enemy lines to the general.

The general chopped down. Feng Jian zipped straight past, sword drawn and held up to the sky. The general’s head literally didn’t have time to process it was supposed to roll off until a second later, followed by a red geyser from the empty slot.

Feng Jian raised his head. “Who said Luo Clan is history?!”