"Enemy raid! Enemy raid!"

The Fire Tube rockets sneered as they screeched into the sky, their scattered sparks giving rise to a display of splendid colors. The flames formed nine circles in the sky, eight large and one small, resembling the hook jade insignia of the Shangshan Clan, the shogunate daimyo to which the thousands of Japanese invaders encamped on these hills belonged.

The desolate, lonely hills seemed as if a small corner had been singed by a red-hot branding iron, with unrest and turmoil quickly spreading.

The chaos of horse hooves, shouts, and bowstrings blended into a cacophony.

Li Yan, clad in red round armor pieced together with saltpeter-treated cowhide, rode at the forefront on his black mane warhorse, drawing the gaze of nearly eighty percent of the Upper Garment Army Corps.

This suit of armor was stripped from the body of a Red Reserve slain by Diao the Blind. Perhaps due to the mountainous terrain, among the five Red Reserves accompanying Kobayakawa, only this one was wearing such heavy armor.

Along with six red-sheathed samurai swords and the family hook jade found on Kobayakawa, these were the spoils of the battle at She Mountain. Not to mention the dry rations and cotton clothes, which were a given.

The others were also draped in black armor leaves pilfered from the Upper Garment Army Corps' cavalry. They clamped their thighs around their saddles and hunched low on their horsebacks, like inconspicuous grey geese in the dark of night.

Less than ten men, yet they herded nearly twenty horses, swiftly weaving under the starry sky and moonlight.

The long torches converged into a fiery dragon as the Japanese invaders, with small family crest flags on their backs, dragged their long spears and short bows, lunging towards Li Yan's side, only to be gradually outdistanced by the horses.

Li Yan and his men charged towards a black cavalry defense line, a hundred strong. Among the restless snorting of the horses, squads of braided Japanese pirates held up crossbows, and arrows poured over like water.

The riderless horses had not run twenty meters before arrows pierced them, and they collapsed, their warm blood splattering.

"Pfft—Sneer!"

An arrow struck the facial gate, a gruesome sight.

Thick-browed Soldier Yang Tian, who had been assisting Deng Tianxiong, fell from his horse. The animal, galloping at high speed, stumbled on its forelegs, and with a great inertia, its head was pulled down, flinging Yang Tian far away.

The whistling wind brushed over Li Yan's head. He held up a simple shield, fashioned from wood and vines, and arrows occasionally buried into the soaked wood with a dull thud. Two or three arrow feathers stuck between the seams of Li Yan's armor, and another glanced off his helmet, the metallic wail ringing in his ears.

Wang Sheng and Song Tongyi ran together in the middle of the troop, gritting their teeth as they deflected the incoming arrows with their bow handles. Wang Sheng was bound with ropes, carrying Diao the Blind on his back.

"Do you still have the Fire Thunder that the lord gave you, young Wang Sheng?" Diao the Blind asked with a forceful voice, despite his frail body.

"Yes, Uncle Diao. Why do you ask?"

"Hand it to me, along with two arrows."

Crouching down, Wang Sheng pulled an arrow from his quiver and handed it over to Diao the Blind along with the hand grenade.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

In a manner known only to himself, Diao the Blind quickly wrapped the Fire Thunder between the two arrows with a strip of cloth.

"Hold this, draw your bow!"

Instinctively, Wang Sheng notched the bound arrows and aimed forward.

"Pull with all the strength you suckled as a babe," the old Diao instructed as he reached forward and pulled the ring.

"Fire!"

With an odd trajectory, the bizarre contraption twisted through the air and exploded amidst the ranks, creating a massive blast wave!

The Japanese invaders fell like wheat before the scythe, leaving a gruesome scene of dismembered limbs and unrecognizable flesh smeared across the hills, a sight too horrifying to behold.

There was a slight disturbance in the ranks of the cavalrymen in their upper garments, but they quickly regrouped at the Banner-Holding General's call.

The distance between the horses on either side closed in, and a Cavalry General adorned with a crescent helmet and headband raised his samurai sword high. The Japanese invaders abandoned their crossbows for blades, and both sides charged, the view from above resembling an arrow shot towards a long serpent.

Hooves thundered!

Li Yan led the charge!

Beneath the bright hanging full moon, the manes of the warhorses flew wildly as they collided, the clashing of swords and armaments was brief but intense. Droplets of sweat, glistening like crystals, were flung into the air, shattering against the cold lunar halo.

The brutal combat, where every stroke met flesh, the agonized neighing of horses crashing together, the rich scent of blood and sweat filled the nostrils, and the sight of the Japanese invaders' small tongues as they screamed in pain...

Li Yan's blood surged like a pump, waves of heat battering his skull, his temples throbbing fiercely.

Even a confrontation with the most skilled martial artist paled in comparison to the blood-pumping excitement of the battle before him.

This was a ferocious clash unimaginable to the peaceful folk of later times, a one-way journey into the bygone Age of Cold Weapons!

Li Yan let out a long roar, his Han sword ringing like spring water striking stone. The leaping Ring Dragon cut through the enemy ranks, unstoppable like a tiger among sheep.

The cloth wrapped around the hilt of the Ring Dragon Sword was soaked through with blood flowing in reverse, threatening to seep into the palm of his hand.

Li Yan's grip found only slippery wetness, and he instinctively eased his strength by a third to prevent the Ring Dragon from slipping from his grasp.

"If only I had learned from Old Diao and the others to tie the Ring Dragon to my wrist..."

Li Yan came from a martial background, where the grandeur of the Sword Fighting Mother Frame Manor reigned supreme. Tying a sword to one's hand would render many of the swordsmanship variations impossible, so Li Yan, with over a decade of swordsmanship training, instinctively rejected such a crude practice.

This was where the mindset of military contests diverged from civilian weapon duels. As a modern man who had not experienced these things, Li Yan indeed made a blunder. Moreover, his performance along the way had been too dazzling for anyone to believe that a man under General Li's Banner would be ignorant of such matters, and no one had reminded him.

A naginata whisked past Li Yan's neck, which he narrowly avoided with a backward lean. Stabilizing his horse, he fixed his gaze on a cavalry general with fiery eyes, a crescent moon helmet, and a naginata blade pointed straight at him.

"Activate A Fleeting Glance."

Name: Mouri Tsugunari, a minor Banner-Holding General.

Status: Dominion (Upon death or defeat, the morale of his soldiers is diminished.)

Expertise: Military Technique 71%

Skill: Command (Increases the range of archers under his command.)

Threat Level: Deep Blue

Note: If dismounted, he would not be a match for a soldier of the Red Reserve.

The minor Banner-Holding General was furiously shouting something incomprehensible, and Li Yan, unable to fathom it, charged forward, dodging the naginata and slicing off the general's arm with the Ring Dragon. Then, with an upward flick of the blade, he pierced the throat of this human-form buff.

The invaders from the Japanese incursion were panic-stricken, watching as their general, who a second before had been bellowing like a valiant yaksha, "I will be your opponent," was cut down from his horse by the enemy in the blink of an eye.

Li Yan, drenched in blood, seized a single-edged long spear, tied the Ring Dragon to his horse, and plunged into the crowd with the long spear, slicing through them as a knife through butter. Leading his cavalry, they were unstoppable.

"Break through!" His eyes sharp as a hawk's, his voice full of commanding presence.

The Ming Army seemed to catch his fervor, even Song Tongyi was hoarse with exertion, and though they numbered less than ten, they roared with the might of thousands.

"Break through!"

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