“At times, loyalty means putting your life on the line, even when it might be for nothing more than a worthless gesture in the eyes of others. I can somewhat sympathize with such people, as often they were in situations nobody else would understand until they themselves were in the same position.” - Commander-General Ilomie Alvar Regula of Levain, circa 692 FP.
“Sire, reports from the left wing. They are on the verge of breaking and asked for reinforcements,” reported a messenger to Zhong Jiangjun Liu Zhong-Feng who was warily watching the battle’s situation from atop his steed in the center of the Imperial Army’s formation.
“Sire, the right wing reports that they require reinforcements as well. The enemy’s assault is overwhelming and threatens to overrun them,” stated another messenger who arrived just as the first one finished delivering his message. Neither were the first messages of the sort that he had received from the other generals at the flank, and Zhong-Feng had already diverted some of his troops to reinforce the wings earlier.
Apparently to no avail.
Zhong-Feng took a quick tally of the situation at hand before he made a quick decision to divert another five thousand of his men to each wing to reinforce them. Their plan to hold on until the old general sniped off the opposition’s commanders had yet to bear fruit, and without any further commands from Leung Hua-Jeong, Zhong-Feng would see the plan they had enacted to the fullest instead.
“Had there been no updates from the Long Jiangjun?” he asked one of his own lieutenants nearby who was in charge of the reserve troops on the rear of the formation. He could see that the fighting ahead was going on and that the plan he decided on with Liat was progressing, but they had yet to cut off the enemy’s forward elements completely from what he saw.
It was not proceeding as he expected. Zhong-Feng had expected that the enemy would have faltered somewhat as the old general picked off their leadership one by one, but from the occasional sharp noise of arrows shattering against each other, he likely met a worthy match today. Something the old general would probably rejoice about, even if it was detrimental to their plan as a whole.
As the subordinate trusted to run the battle in his stead, it was all Zhong-Feng could do to arrange for the troops to fight off the enemy as best they could. They were on the backfoot and were forced to retreat bit by bit, something he allowed for the time being given their lack of advantage over the opposition. Even the plans he hatched out with Liat had yet to bear fruit, so all he could do for the time being was to persevere until there was a change in the situation.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Even after time passed, the situation failed to rectify itself. Both wings of the Imperial army failed to hold back their respective assailants, while the cavalry failed to harass the enemy enough to make an impact on the battle. Even the part he had high hopes for, where his troops cooperated with that of Liat’s to cut down the enemy’s strike force, showed signs of failing.
Sure enough, before long he received another messenger, this one from Xingl Liat herself, noting that her troops had failed to cut off and surround the enemy strike force and were in the process of withdrawal as a result.
Liu Zhong-Feng could only sigh at all the failure that surrounded him. He was in charge of the army and thus had to make the decisions with the lack of command coming down from the Dragon General himself. It had not taken him long to realize how untenable his position – and the Imperial army’s as a whole – was in that battle.
“Anwar, take your men and escort the Long Jiangjun and his guards back safely. Do this as quietly as you can,” he said to the lieutenant who was in charge of his troops’ reserves. “Is that clear?”
“Understood, Jiangjun. It will be done,” replied the man immediately. A good soldier, to not even question his task.
“As for the lot of you,” he added with a sigh, this time addressing the messengers that had just arrived once more from the other generals. “Go back to your respective commanders and relay the order for a fighting withdrawal to them. The whole army is withdrawing. Tell them to prioritize their men’s safety. Me and mine will hold the rear.”
A chorus of “Yes, Sir!”s answered him as the messengers in question left and went back to their respective units. Zhong-Feng also ordered for the flag signals for a fighting withdrawal to be displayed, since Zahira Al-Nairi and the cavalry were too far away to have sent a messenger. He hoped that she had someone keeping an eye on the signal flags and would be able to react in time to join them.
As for himself, he gave orders to his remaining men to spread out, as they were the rear guard to the retreating army. Already the enemy forces were pushing hard against them, especially that one strike force with plenty of non-humans that he and Liat had tried to decapitate earlier, but he had confidence in his battle-hardened elites. They will hold, at least long enough to secure an escape for the rest of the army.
So long as the rest of the army and more importantly. The Dragon General, made it out fine, they will be able to fight again after some rearrangements, such was the belief in the middle-aged general’s heart. As for himself, he considered his being as but a cogwheel in the machine, one that could be replaced as needed should it break down. If he had to die to save the rest, then so be it.
It was while he rearranged his troops to better guard against the pursuing foes that Zhong-Feng realized that he had not heard the Dragon General’s arrows for a while. While it was difficult to pick out the sound of a single arrow in a chaotic battlefield, the Dragon General imbued his arrows with wind magic which made them emit a rather shrill noise as they cut through the air, one that Zhong-Feng was well acquainted with.
Probably the General had retreated already then, or so he hoped…