Chapter 23: The Limits of Human Endeavor
Tataro was resolute—he would rather sacrifice this hundred-strong cavalry unit as bait than let that Han general live.
Such unparalleled courage had deeply shaken him. Whether for his own honor, the future of the Xiutu tribes, or even the fate of the entire steppe nomads, he absolutely could not allow this Han man to survive.
A single rider wielding the impact of a hundred was terrifying enough; if given an army of ten thousand cavalry, Tataro dared not imagine what this man could accomplish.
Whatever it was, it would surely become their worst nightmare.
“Lose my Qilian Mountains, my livestock will not multiply. Lose my Rouge Mountains, my women lose their color.”
This classic lament suddenly echoed in his ears. Tataro fixed his gaze on Su Yao, who was furiously hacking away on horseback, his eyes blazing with ferocity.
He had to eliminate this youth before his wings fully grew:
“Exterminate! Exterminate! Exterminate!”
“Clang!”
“Swish!”
“Die!”
Amidst the blood mist, Su Yao swung his massive Fangtian Huaji, shouting wildly in the heat of battle, thinking to himself, “This divine weapon is really something else.”
Compared to the cavalry saber, which required precise control to sever heads, the Fangtian Huaji could be swung carelessly. The moment it made contact, both horse and rider were split apart, bursting forth a cloud of blood.
The impact was simply incomparable—heaven and earth apart. Exhilarating!
“Mother—”
“No, please—”
“Die, die! Hahaha—”
Two more blood clouds erupted with thuds. In the crimson haze, Su Yao could barely see anything.
[“Berserk Stance: Activated. Immune to fear and morale debuffs. Unlocks skill: Bloodthirsty Strike. Grows stronger the more you fight...”]
[“Grows Stronger the More You Fight”: Requires Berserk Stance. Each enemy killed increases attack power by 3%, attack speed by 3%, and health regeneration by 3%...]
“…Man…”
“Captain Su…”
No one knew how much time had passed. Only when the enemy was nearly wiped out did Su Yao hear a shout from behind.
Momentarily snapping out of his killing frenzy, he reined in his horse and turned to see Cheng Lian twenty paces away, chasing after him and yelling:
“Captain, the signal horn has sounded! Retreat quickly!”
“Signal horn? Retreat?”
In the past two days, Su Yao’s conversations with Cheng Lian left a deep impression: this NPC never gave missions and would often ramble on about Han military law.
Although Su Yao usually let it go in one ear and out the other, the basics were clear: “Drums mean advance; signal horns mean retreat.”
At that moment, Su Yao carefully listened and amid the noisy background, indeed caught the faint sound of a golden gong. He realized it must be Lu Bu inside Wubao calling for a withdrawal.
It seemed his third round of slaughtering had lasted a bit too long, but that wasn’t his fault—turn-based combat meant if the enemy didn’t act, it was still his turn. No problem there.
Though slightly annoyed, Su Yao ceased his killing. Charging out of the blood mist, he scanned the surroundings and suddenly realized the nomad scouts were everywhere, forming a vast net.
“Why aren’t you retreating?”
Frowning, Su Yao reined in his horse and, seeing all ten riders still present, felt a headache coming on. He had gotten caught up in the killing frenzy and neglected command. If these knights suffered casualties breaking out, he’d be heartbroken.
“Han military law: captains who die outside camp shall have their followers executed.”
This meant that when a superior was in danger, subordinates were obliged to rescue him, or else face death.
Seeing this NPC still teaching during a crisis, Su Yao was speechless.
After a pause, he swung his Fangtian Huaji:
“Follow me back to the city!”
“Yes, sir!”
Across the fields, the galloping Han cavalry carved out a U-shaped arc and turned back to the city.
“Don’t think of running! Charge! Mounted archery! Everyone, kill him!”
Tataro’s eyes were bloodshot as he ordered an all-out assault.
Having suffered over eighty percent casualties in the Xinmiluo tribe, he finally completed the encirclement. One hundred riders had already inserted themselves along the Han cavalry’s retreat path, determined not to let this Han general escape.
However... reality unfolded quite differently. Tataro could only watch helplessly as Su Yao, leading these knights pierced by arrows of various colors, returned to Wubao alive and vigorous.
“Useless! Absolutely useless!”
After the battle, Tataro furiously whipped the captain responsible for the one hundred intercepting riders:
“I said, anyone who retreats shall be executed without mercy! How dare you come back with your face intact!”
“We were so close! Just a little more and the others would have arrived! We could have surrounded him, held him, blocked him!”
Whipped into bloody welts, the captain bit his lip and pleaded:
“We couldn’t stop him, commander. Truly, we couldn’t.”
“Shut up!”
From behind Su Yao, Tataro saw clearly—they really couldn’t stop him...
Did he blame this hundred-rider captain? No. He did his best, which was why Tataro only whipped him instead of cutting him down.
The subordinate had indeed organized an interception, but Su Yao broke through it in one charge, even more skillfully than before, not losing his horse once.
Bitter, so bitter.
Why had it ended like this? After his initial fury, Tataro understood: their morale had collapsed, and the troops’ spirit was broken.
His strategy had been flawed. He should never have allowed that Han general to slaughter their comrades so recklessly. He had only intended to use the fleeing soldiers to lure the enemy deeper, but neglected the human heart’s defiance.
Who wouldn’t be terrified seeing that Han general ruthlessly slaughtering single-handedly?
The intercepting nomad cavalry feared the might of the superior officer’s army and barely held the line. When Su Yao charged, except for the unlucky ones in the first row who couldn’t avoid him, the others instinctively parted to leave a path, fearing the long, heavy halberd that could split horse and rider alike.
Who wasn’t born of flesh and blood, raised for over a decade? Given the slightest chance, who would want to be cannon fodder with a guaranteed death rate of one hundred percent?
A mere eleven riders had caused ten times their number in casualties with just one encounter. Their only gain was killing one Han cavalryman amidst the chaos, but he was soon retaken by Su Yao’s counterattack before they could claim his head...
Damn it, how were they supposed to fight this war?
...
“Medic! Medic, where are you?”
Back at Wubao, Su Yao carried a heavily wounded comrade, running and shouting along the way.
“Brother Su, put him down. Don’t keep running.”
Lu Bu descended from the watchtower, his expression somewhat complex.
“We have no medical officers or orderlies here. Don’t trouble yourself too much.”
The rider on Su Yao’s back was gravely injured.
Though his armor shielded him almost completely from mounted archers’ attacks, the impact from being unhorsed had caused extensive injuries and bleeding on his knees, arms, and legs. His right arm was suspected broken, with three arrow wounds on his left arm and right leg—areas unprotected by armor.
With Lu Bu’s seasoned battlefield insight, he immediately knew this soldier was beyond saving. Even with medical orderlies, applying herbal ash to stop bleeding, the chance of surviving the ensuing fever and convulsions after a few days was barely fifty percent.
“No, is there no doctor or healer?”
Su Yao knew the answer but still turned to the village elder. The old man tugged his beard and shook his head.
“There’s no such rare person in our village.”
“Damn it! This can’t be! Save him! My soldier!”
Su Yao’s heart burned with rage. If only he hadn’t gone berserk, or had sent these men back to camp before the slaughter.
This was elite cavalry, a starting-phase advantage. Not to mention the armor, how long would it take a newly recruited farmer to reach this level?
Losing one was truly heartbreaking.
“Your kindness and love for your soldiers is touching, but you must know that human strength has its limits...”