Volume One: The Hidden Dragon Beneath the Abyss Chapter 113: Peril Looms

“As autumn arrives on the frontier, the scenery changes...” Chen Ying stood atop the city wall, facing a vast expanse of desolation and barrenness. The harshness of this land deepened his understanding of the situation.

He couldn’t help but think of his homeland and dear friends.

Yet, such feelings should not have taken root in his heart; he had come here with a resolve to die if necessary.

He had come to the northern border, facing the barbarian armies.

The northern frontier bordered several nations and had long suffered from invasions and plundering by northern barbarians—an affliction lasting over a century.

The region was incredibly vast and bleak, making it difficult for people from the Central Plains to venture deeply. Yet, there was no alternative.

Rumors had it that after the unification of the grasslands, the northern barbarians’ attacks had intensified. Reports from herdsmen even suggested intentions of a southern invasion.

Such a threat was intolerable.

At this moment, Chen Ying was in Luo City, a strategic border stronghold of the Xia Kingdom.

Built over generations of military leaders’ efforts, it had become a fortress with formidable defenses. To the north lay open land fortified with over a dozen trenches and arrow towers, along with thirty to forty bunker-like fortifications embedded into the ground. These bunkers were connected underground and stocked with ample grain, drinking water, crossbow bolts, stones, and rolling logs for defense.

The defenses were so robust that any large-scale assault would come at a terrible cost.

From the high, sturdy city walls, Chen Ying had learned that the barbarian armies had reportedly acquired firearms.

These weapons had appeared on battlefields against the Wei and Jin states and were remarkably effective.

It was well known that the Yu Kingdom also possessed firearms and was extremely powerful.

The nations bordering the northern frontier all tacitly guarded their territories, refusing to let barbarians cross their borders.

Otherwise, the consequences would be catastrophic for the people.

Chen Ying’s arrival in Luo City was for this very reason—his final mission.

The northern lands comprised more than ten nomadic tribes, each occupying its own territory and maintaining independence.

These nomads grazed cattle, sheep, and horses on the lush grasslands, wandering widely.

Yet recently, for reasons unknown, the grasslands had been unified.

Whispers spoke of the birth of a demon god among the grassland people.

Numbering in the hundreds of thousands, all men were warriors.

Such a unified force was naturally a cause for concern among several nations.

Chen Ying had dispatched scouts extending their surveillance to over two hundred miles. Any unusual activity was to be reported immediately so the army could prepare for battle.

He guessed correctly that the northern barbarians would soon mobilize.

They timed their raids carefully—coming just after the harvest when grain was yet to be fully stored.

Arriving too early meant little to plunder; too late, and the grain would be well protected, making theft difficult.

During this season, several nations had also deployed heavy troops to prevent the barbarians’ passage.

But lately, Chen Ying felt something was amiss.

Was it the Xia Kingdom?

Other states?

Or the barbarians themselves?

Where exactly lay the anomaly?

From what he had learned since arriving in Luo City, these grassland tribes sometimes skirmished over territory.

However, when it came to dealing with the Han Chinese, they were almost unanimous.

Every harvest season, they would subconsciously cease their conflicts and cross borders to raid grain stores.

Their coordinated efforts left the Central Plains people in disarray.

There was also an unspoken rule: the raiding parties should not be too large. A large force consumed too much grain and attracted the court’s suspicion, potentially triggering a massive military response aimed at decisive battle—once and for all.

The nations’ stance toward the northern barbarians was remarkably unanimous: outsiders were outsiders.

They were foreigners.

Thus, all united in facing the barbarians with one heart and mind.

According to tradition, as long as the Han armies held their border lines and prevented barbarian incursions, battles could be avoided.

If the barbarians could not cross, they would struggle to obtain food, making it difficult to sustain their people through winter.

In recent years, small raiding parties had been regularly sent from various tribes into Han territory, swiftly retreating with their loot.

The barbarians were mostly robust, agile, and fierce in spirit.

Chen Ying had arranged everything, and soon scouts reported a large force of barbarians had gathered fifty miles outside the city, camped together rather than scattered as usual.

Luo City’s forces could crush them at any time.

But once the barbarians retreated to the grasslands, pursuit was nearly impossible.

More worrisome was the possibility of a feint—an attack from one direction to distract while a large army invaded from another.

“Whether we fight or not is not the issue. First and foremost, the grain must be protected. That’s the foundation. Without food, neither the border soldiers nor civilians can hold on. All our efforts would be in vain.”

Chen Ying paced thoughtfully.

But what exactly were the barbarians planning? To raid so brazenly?

Such a posture resembled the internal strife among the Central Plains kingdoms, where cities and lands were fought over.

“An assault on the city!”

Chen Ying’s gaze sharpened.

“Send men to keep a close watch on the barbarians! Also, send a message to the capital—urgent, eight hundred miles!”

The idea seemed unbelievable, almost reckless.

Previously, the barbarians had been vassals to the Han Chinese. After unifying the grasslands and seeing the Central Plains still unsettled and weakened, they began sending small forces to test the waters, which the court largely ignored.

But this time, it seemed they were serious—they intended to besiege the city.

They might not return to the grasslands at all.

The more Chen Ying investigated, the more alarmed he became.

Outside, an army of twenty thousand had already assembled, bristling with aggression.

Tents were set up, showing no fear of an open battle outside the city gates.

They were the vanguard, waiting for more nomadic troops to gather.

One tent after another spread across the grassland like drifting white clouds.

If this force could not be eliminated, the growing army to come would be even harder to stop.

...

On the grasslands, a group of sturdy soldiers clustered around a broad-shouldered, bronze-skinned man.

The man wore a strange headdress atop his loosely flowing hair, his face rugged, covered with a coarse beard, painted with dark markings.

“Haha! Look! The vast rivers and mountains ahead will be the land of our great barbarian tribe! Damn the Han dogs! The mighty demon god has been born—invincible in battle! He will lead us to conquer the world!”

The man shouted, then swung his arm and strode down the hill.

His soldiers cheered thunderously.

At a garrison near the city gate, a squadron of horsemen hurriedly entered, followed by several generals. The garrison’s forces were mainly cavalry, occasionally venturing out to strike raiding parties.

Most of the time, however, they gathered the civilians inside the city for protection.

This was a lesson passed down from a famed general.

When Tian Xingzi arrived, he found Chen Ying among a group just entering the camp.

Looking up, he saw a training ground surrounded by a low, packed-earth wall and palisades with guards posted. Beside the ground were orderly barracks. Discipline was strict, order well maintained.

“Senior...”

Chen Ying stepped forward to greet him.

He had long heard of Tian Xingzi’s reputation and rumors that he regarded Wang Chuan as a worthy ruler and had devoted himself to assisting him.

“Lord Chen, you’re too courteous,” Tian Xingzi replied solemnly.

They proceeded to the central command tent.

Other mid- and low-ranking officers had gathered there—all iron-blooded men unafraid of death.

Inside, the empty space quickly filled as they took their seats.

Tian Xingzi glanced at their faces—all trustworthy men—and nodded slightly.

“The barbarians are moving south to invade. This time, it will be difficult to stop them. The demon god is about to be born; the entire tribe is attacking!” Tian Xingzi sighed and told them. “I just returned from the grasslands. The situation is dire.”

He took a chair and sat, raising his hand to his forehead, rubbing the wrinkles thoughtfully.

“Senior, we have resisted the northern barbarians many times—why can’t we this time?” Chen Ying asked, noting the troubled look on his face.

“I’ll tell you: the barbarians will deploy at least five hundred thousand troops. How do you expect to stop that?” Tian Xingzi asked.

Five hundred thousand!

The most urgent issue now was the Jin ruler’s imminent war; the states would never unite to resist a foreign enemy.

Chen Ying longed to return and assassinate the Jin ruler, letting Wang Chuan take over to maintain the fragile balance.

But times had changed.

Chen Ying slumped back in his chair, waves of turmoil flooding his mind. No matter how much he resented or reasoned, reality pressed upon him relentlessly.

Five hundred thousand barbarians?

The barbarians were already formidable, making the Han forces groan in hardship.

This time, they would be utterly unstoppable.

No state could withstand them.

“In that case, we must call upon the combined armies of the Yu, Wei, Jin, Xia, and Hua kingdoms for a decisive battle—mobilizing the full might of the realm!” Chen Ying said gravely.

Of the six Central Plains kingdoms, only Tang did not border the northern frontier.

But it had troubles in the south, with southern barbarians and sea pirates.

All the kingdoms were uneasy.

If they were to mount a national effort against the barbarians, unity would be difficult.

Chen Ying looked around and understood well the fickleness of the world—everyone looked out for themselves. Even at the brink of death, no one wished to gamble with their family’s lives.

If things continued, the land would be shattered.

“For now, we might still muster some troops and fight to the death!” a general suggested.

Chen Ying shook his head. Even if they gathered forces, their combat effectiveness was uncertain.

The troops were elite and fierce against external enemies, but in such a hopeless situation, facing the barbarians head-on was impossible.

Usually, it took two Han soldiers to kill one barbarian.

The forces were mismatched.

Even cavalry engagements, if heavy cavalry were present, could be fought with some hope by relying on equipment.

“The last resort is to rely on cities and passes to hold the barbarians back—dragging out the battle. This fight will be tough. It all rests on Crown Prince Wang Chuan,” Chen Ying said, looking at him deeply. “I am willing to recognize him as the true emperor.”

“I once thought the same, but now it’s impossible,” Tian Xingzi said regretfully.

“Why?” Chen Ying asked in surprise.

“I’ve long urged the prince to personally strike down the demon god to turn the tide. The army cannot lose its commander. But it’s impossible now. The prince has never lost a battle, but if he confronts the demon god now, he will be defeated. He cannot win.”

“I have seen his fate beginning to decline.”

“The prince will fall?” Chen Ying was shocked.

This news was even more staggering than the threat of five hundred thousand barbarians.

People trusted Wang Chuan so implicitly—but did they know this outcome?

At such a time, would they choose to believe Wang Chuan or question Tian Xingzi?

Impossible.

Everyone knew Tian Xingzi’s divinations never erred, just as Wang Chuan had never lost.

They were like two unbreakable myths.

Yet today, that myth might be shattered.

A sword hung overhead, enemies poised to cross the border, ready to plunder and harm the Central Plains...

Chen Ying suddenly felt suffocated.

“Lord Chen, I once accompanied the prince to Lun City. He spoke highly of you and entrusted this place to your care. No matter what, you must hold the city!” Tian Xingzi stood.

“Senior, rest assured, it is my duty!” Chen Ying bowed deeply.

“Thank you!” Tian Xingzi returned the salute. “I will rally the enlightened across the realm to urge the six kingdoms to unite. I should intervene personally, but more important tasks await.”

He gazed into the distance. “I will gather the realm’s finest to infiltrate the grasslands and assassinate the demon god.”

“The demon god’s birth and the prince’s waning fortune are surely linked to the demon clan. I will not let them succeed!”

His reckless resolve declared a gamble.

Everyone knew Tian Xingzi was an unfailing strategist, but this was a bold wager.

Success or death.

As others said, plans depend on men, but success depends on heaven.

He would no longer believe in superstition.

“Take care, senior.” Chen Ying felt the heavy weight of the moment.

The senior’s task was immense.

Wang Chuan, still Wang Chuan.

Despite everything, their greatest hope remained Wang Chuan.

That myth would not fall.

It must not fall.

“True friends are close even if oceans apart! The prince will not fail—I know it!”

No sooner had Tian Xingzi left than a soldier reported movement among the barbarians.

Chen Ying rushed out to take command.

Only a small cavalry unit—several dozen riders circled the city, clearly scouting.

Barbarians rarely used scouts on the grasslands; if they were now adopting local customs for the southward campaign, it was surprising.

Their scouting was clumsy, almost laughable.

But there was no time for laughter.

“Annihilate them!” Chen Ying ordered.

Several generals united, leading several hundred cavalry to encircle and attack.

“Kill the Han dogs! How dare they!” the barbarian commander muttered, realizing the mistake of venturing so deep alone.

Scouting? What a joke.

If he commanded, he would have sent a full army to crush them.

The two forces drew near—fields and houses surrounded them. While the farmland was passable, it slowed movement, allowing the Han troops to encircle.

The barbarians were few but shouted fiercely.

In a moment’s hesitation, fighting broke out.

The barbarians howled as they charged, weapons flashing. They quickly unhorsed several riders.

The opposing generals were poor horsemen, clearly no formidable warriors.

But the Xia soldiers’ fighting spirit was high. Despite heavy losses, they did not retreat, attacking from both flanks.

Several captains combined their forces and soon ended the skirmish.

As that fight concluded, enemy activity flared again near Luo City—this time, a siege.

The news was terrifying. After Tian Xingzi’s warning of five hundred thousand barbarians, no one dared to be complacent.

“So these are just the vanguard, a probing attack,” the seasoned generals said, regardless of the enemy’s strength.

“Perhaps the barbarians have already begun their campaign,” someone added. “We should watch them closely to learn their route and adapt. But as we know from repeated battles, they fight without order—just focusing on one point and charging together!”

These primitive barbarians seemed stuck in a rudimentary stage of warfare.

Yet they made the border defenders restless.

“The best strategy remains uniting with the other kingdoms, sharing intelligence and resisting together!” someone said. “If only Crown Prince Wang Chuan could lead—they say he’s the best choice.”

Chen Ying was struck by the wisdom.

Uniting the forces under a single commander—the prince was indeed the most suitable.

Talented and virtuous, his abilities beyond doubt.

As heir to the throne, his status was respected.

Yu Kingdom—he had married a princess there and could be trusted.

Wei Kingdom—his mother’s homeland, trustworthy as well.

Jin Kingdom—the crown prince himself, the most reliable.

Xia Kingdom—rumored to have close ties with the emperor, the only one allowed court access, though mainly for discussions of longevity...

Finally, Hua Kingdom—convincing them would require Tian Xingzi’s efforts.

Moreover, with Yang Hao, a generous benefactor beloved by the people, rallying popular support, Wang Chuan was uniquely qualified to lead the coalition.

No wonder Tian Xingzi esteemed him so highly.

Chen Ying agreed to honor him as emperor—for the sake of the realm.

Scholars revered such righteousness.

This was a battle for life and death.

The barbarians had mobilized en masse.

According to the senior, the barbarians revered the demon god, invincible in battle. This campaign was said to be commanded by that deity to invade the Central Plains.

Several large tribes believed that after many years of conflict with the Han, resistance was fierce and plunder meager.

This angered them. They decided to strike directly at the heartland, seizing whatever they desired.

Besides, the lands there were beautiful, full of women—a tempting prospect.

The Han’s power had weakened; the barbarians saw it as their time to rise.

The barbarians had begun besieging cities.

“The barbarian cavalry is elite and unstoppable, but they’re mistaken. Siege warfare is not the same as open-field battles,” a general sneered, eyeing the barbarian ranks below.

They were in chaos and could never breach the walls.

The Xia soldiers were resolute, determined to hold firm.

“Are they learning?” Chen Ying’s expression darkened.

“Learning?” The others were startled but quickly realized.

Indeed, they were studying siege tactics.

Regardless, the ability to learn was a human trait—and some animals possessed it, too.

Though the barbarians seemed coarse, this development was a serious threat.

They would soon master these techniques.

The Xia soldiers could not sally forth to confront them, forced to watch helplessly.

Scaling walls barehanded was impossible.

A general ordered a hundred siege ladders brought out.

Siege ladders—they even had such equipment now.

Were the barbarians evolving?

With their formidable strength, even as a savage people, they were terrifying.

Chen Ying remained fearful.

This was a people fierce in battle—thirty thousand infantry, ten thousand crossbowmen, ten thousand cavalry in support—a fifty-thousand-strong initial assault.

The barbarians were enraged. The open ground outside the city was strewn with three- to four-foot-high sharpened wooden stakes, blocking their advance.

They howled in frustration, longing for the Xia soldiers to come out and fight them head-on, to see who was truly formidable.

On the walls, Xia crossbowmen and archers manned the embrasures. Infantry attempting to raise ladders to the walls were cut down before reaching them.

Despite their fury, the barbarians’ mounted archery units were hampered by the stakes, unable to charge effectively.

Their cavalry advantages were neutralized.

The Xia forces, holding the high ground, were not at a disadvantage and completely stifled them.

Two cavalry units were sent out to exchange volleys with the enemy.

After several hours, the barbarians were defeated, leaving many dead on the field.