The Northern Borderline camp was brightly lit. No one was in the mood to sleep.
The Acting King was anxiously waiting for news of victory. He was in no mood to care about his beautiful wives and concubines, ignoring their resentful gazes.
"Still no news?"
He paced back and forth in the main tent, as if he wanted to rub two holes in the animal skin rug on the floor.
"Reporting to the Acting King, there is no news at the moment," the guard reported respectfully.
The Acting King was getting more and more anxious. Wu Liba's battle was of great importance. If he could get off to a good start, the pressure on the Northern Borderline would be greatly reduced.
"What time is it now?"
After a while, the Acting King sat back on his throne gloomily. His heart was beating steadily, but he felt a little flustered.
The guard said, "Reporting to the Acting King, it is now the hour of the eleventh hour."
Hour of the eleventh hour?
"It's actually so late …" the Acting King muttered to himself, "It will be dawn in an hour. Why is Wu Liba not back yet?"
The guard looked calm on the surface, but in his heart, he despised the Acting King.
Fighting a war was not like anything else. It was not possible to say when one would return.
There must be a limit to one's willfulness!
If Wu Liba, who was bathed in blood, knew what the Acting King was thinking, he would definitely be furious.
The remnants of the Northern Borderline were forced to the riverbank. There was nowhere to retreat and they were in a hopeless situation.
Wu Liba felt a sense of sorrow, but he did not show any negative emotions. He continued to encourage the soldiers to fight to the death with the enemy.
If it was any other time, a fight to the death might have been able to explode with shocking combat power.
However, the morale of the Northern Borderline had been continuously thwarted and had fallen to rock bottom. The soldiers pushed and shoved each other, fighting to be the first to climb onto the boats to cross the river.
There was no order to them at all. The only thought in their minds was to "escape". How could they listen to Wu Liba's commands?
They did not listen to commands and did not follow orders.
The people squeezed and squeezed together. Not only did not many escape successfully, but they also caused more casualties.
Many people climbed onto the boats, but were careless and pulled down by their comrades behind them, falling into the bone-chilling Yi water.
Seeing that it was difficult to board the boats, they relied on their good swimming skills and jumped into the water, attempting to swim back to the other side.
Wu Liba could only watch helplessly as they collapsed and escaped into the water like dumplings. He could only sigh deeply, his eyes filled with sorrow.
"General, don't hesitate. You should board the ship and retreat first —"
The deputy general had prepared a boat for him. As long as he could cross the Yi River and reach the other side, Wu Liba would be safe.
The battle had just begun. If Wu Liba died here or was captured, the morale of the Northern Borderline would suffer a devastating blow.
Wu Liba knew the seriousness of the matter. He endured the pain from his wound and boarded the ship under the protection of a few deputies.
"Lieutenant Jiang, the archers are ready —"
Jiang Nongqin looked coldly at the enemies on the riverbank and said, "Fire —"
On the battlefield, there was no such thing as stopping at the right time, and there was no such thing as gentlemanly demeanor. It had always been to seize the opportunity to kill the enemy!
Jiang Nongqin commanded thousands of archers to line up in three rows. They took turns to shoot at the river bank and the water surface.
The Yi River was bone-chilling, and most of the soldiers of the Northern Borderline were injured. Even if they swam to the other side, they were basically half-dead.
Jiang Nongqin even sent several waves of arrows to them. In an instant, corpses floated to the surface of the Yi River and blood dyed the river red.
"Report —"
In the Northern Borderline camp, the Acting King finally received the battle report that he had been waiting for.
"Tell me quickly — did General Wu Liba capture the bandit leader of the Liu family alive?"
The Acting King stared at the messenger's mouth with a burning gaze, hoping to hear the good news that he wanted the most from his mouth.
The messenger said with an expression that looked like he was about to cry, "General has lost —"
"Our army has achieved a great victory. Our army has achieved a great victory … What?" The smile on the Acting King's face froze halfway. He could hardly believe what he had heard. What did he mean by "General has lost"? Who lost? Which general …
The Acting King had spent the entire night imagining how Jiang Pengji would suffer a crushing defeat, how Wu Liba would achieve a great victory, and how he would reward her after the victory to satisfy Wu Liba and not shake his rule … He had never expected the messenger to tell him that Wu Liba had lost.
"How could Wu Liba have lost? He has been fighting for so many years, yet he lost to a woman, Liu Xi? "
The Acting King roared angrily. He raised his hand and smashed everything that could be smashed.
Although he did not like Wu Liba and relied more on Haluncha, Wu Liba was the backbone of the Northern Borderline. How could he lose?
"Where is he? Where is Wu Liba? "
After the Acting King Yitong vented his anger by roaring, he finally calmed down and shouted at the messenger.
The messenger said, "General Wu Liba has been rescued. He is now being treated by a doctor."
The Acting King roared angrily, "Get that old man to come see me. He lost to a woman, yet he still has the face to treat his injuries?"
When the words left his mouth, the guards guarding the main tent and the messenger felt a chill in their hearts. They felt a chill that they had never felt before.
No matter what, Wu Liba was the loyal subject of the King of the Northern Borderline. He had helped the King to conquer the tribes.
Even if Wu Liba had not made any contributions to the Northern Borderline, he had worked hard. The Ninth Prince was only the Acting King. How could he humiliate the old subjects of two dynasties?
As time passed, the murderous cries from the shore of the Yi River gradually faded away.
As far as the eye could see, there were countless corpses floating on the surface of the water. Fresh blood dyed the surface of the water scarlet.
Jiang Nongqin commanded the soldiers to clean up the battlefield. She pulled out those who were still breathing from the pile of corpses and sent them to the wounded barracks.
Jiang Pengji raised her hand to wipe away the blood that flowed into the corner of her mouth. She slowly calmed her surging killing intent and breathing.
With a clang, she threw the broadsword in her hand to the side. Sun Wen, who had stepped forward, saw it.
The blade was covered in blood. Pieces of flesh and internal organs hung on the back of the broadsword. Some of them had dried up and turned black, but other parts were still very fresh.
Not only that, but the broadsword was missing a few notches. Many parts of the blade were curled up. It was extremely worn out. It would probably be difficult to use it again.
Although he did not see how his lord killed the enemy with his own eyes, judging from the condition of the broadsword, the battle must have been extremely intense.
"Did I scare you?"
Jiang Pengji loosened the ropes of her armor. She took out two handkerchiefs and wiped her face. Thick blood and pieces of internal organs were all over her face.
If it was not for Jiang Pengji's armor, Sun Wen would not have believed that the person sitting on the ground with a golden broadsword was actually a woman. This woman was his lord. Not only was his lord very magical, but the women's battalion that he saw just now was also very magical.
She could carry a sword and mount a horse to fight. She could clean up the battlefield and be a doctor.
Perhaps, this was the saying, "Like the lord, like the soldiers."
"My lord, your words make you seem weak and frail." Sun Wen laughed bitterly.
No matter what, he was of the same generation as her grandfather. He was much older than Liu She, but now he received such a consolation that sounded like she was coaxing a child.
"I'm not saying that you're weak and frail. Scholars are always more delicate. They're not as crude as warriors."
As they spoke, Li Yun arrived.
"Is your hand injured?"
Jiang Pengji could tell that Li Yun's left arm was injured at a glance. It was probably not shallow.
You've already exceeded your reading limit for today. If you want to read more, please log in.
Login
Select text and click 'Report' to let us know about any bad translation.
