Chapter 303: Dark Assault

Fortunately, He Lingchuan relied on his resilience, fighting steadily until he finally found his opponent's weakness and secured victory with a single strike.

As He Lingchuan lifted the tent flap, he saw rain falling like a curtain, making it impossible to distinguish people or horses just three zhang away.

The visibility was almost as bad as dense fog.

In just a few seconds, one could scoop up enough rainwater to wash their face.

He splashed some cool water on his face, pondering what kind of combat technique to exchange his military merits for next. Every practical battle provided valuable experience, and now he felt he lacked a high-burst martial skill.

Next time, he decided, he would get the Mirroring Technique.

The Kite Army camp had retreated another hundred zhang, settling on solid rock to avoid any risk of collapse. This new location was also more than two zhang higher than the river.

The trade-off, however, was an increase in snakes, rats, and other small animals, leading to frequent bite injuries.

Neither Zhao Pan nor He Chunhua lowered their guard. Both were wary of Hong Chenglüe's retaliation, so their demands for camp defenses grew stricter by the day.

The Kite soldiers didn't understand the reason and secretly grumbled.

Just stepping outside the tent for a few seconds would soak them completely; the ground was covered in muddy yellow water, dirtying their shoes or trousers. At such a time, the entire camp should have been resting. Why was General Zhao instead ordering strict vigilance?

The enemy was on the opposite bank; could they really cross the river and launch a sneak attack in this terrible weather?

Caught in continuous heavy rain, He Chunhua's forces were also trapped in the camp, unable to return south. The time he had lingered at the front line had already exceeded expectations.

This was also one source of his unease.

Delays breed complications.

Dark clouds covered the sky, and it grew dark quickly, long before sunset.

The last vestige of light quickly vanished, and the entire Kite Army camp was enveloped in a net woven of heavy rain and darkness.

In such terrible weather, the guards still had to patrol.

The torches they carried had been soaked in a special oil, allowing them to burn and provide light even in the rain.

Although they wore rain cloaks, their inner armor and shoes were still soaked, feeling sticky and damp. Their shoes, especially, squelched with every step after filling with water.

"Terrible weather!" the newly assigned sentinel cursed under his breath as he patrolled the riverbank, torch in hand, wiping away the rainwater that ran into his eyes.

The original camp location was now submerged by the river. The riverbanks had also collapsed several times, and the current shoreline had receded nearly a hundred zhang to the south, but they still walked cautiously.

Two days prior, an unlucky comrade had fallen into the river when the ground beneath him collapsed, swept away in an instant.

So this sentinel merely walked a perfunctory circuit along the bank, keeping a distance of three zhang from the water.

In this kind of weather, it was impossible for an enemy to be lying in wait on the bank. If General Zhao hadn't insisted, no one would have willingly gone near the river.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, so he turned back.

It had been like this every night for many days.

An hour later, the sentinel returned on his patrol.

This was his second circuit; after completing three circuits tonight, someone would relieve him.

He still casually glanced around, but before heading back, he felt something was off.

He was originally too lazy to move, but after some mental debate, he reluctantly walked back to the riverbank and raised his torch.

The heavy rain was ceaseless, and the Han River had turned violent. Every time he came here, he heard the crashing sound of waves hitting the bank, almost as loud as thunder.

But why wasn't it there tonight?

He only heard the continuous sound of rain.

The sentinel cautiously moved to the riverbank. He shone his torch downwards—

Strange, where was the water?

A zhang below the riverbank, there was no water. He saw muddy sand beneath.

He extended his torch further, but within the illuminated area, he still saw no river water.

What was going on? The first time he had patrolled here, waves had still been lapping against the bank.

Had the river reversed its flow?

On second thought, did something seem to be moving in the darkness at the edge of the torchlight?

As he peered curiously, four or five arrows suddenly shot up from below. Most missed, but one lodged in his eye.

The sentinel fell backward.

The archers below had no elemental energy, so they couldn't aim precisely. Therefore, they fired multiple arrows at once, aiming for a higher probability of hitting.

This sentinel possessed elemental energy, so even if he had been hit by an arrow, it wouldn't have been too serious. But he was unlucky; an arrow just happened to hit his eye, which was a critical strike.

As he fell, his torch dropped. The flickering light alerted two comrades nearby, who ran closer. Seeing the glinting arrow in him, they blew urgent whistles.

"Enemy attack!"

Almost simultaneously, earth-shattering shouts erupted from below the riverbank, momentarily silencing the heavy rain:

"Charge!"

"General Nian will win!"

In the darkness, something seemed to be stirring, moving towards the high ground.

In a moment, countless flickering small flames lit up below the riverbank, instantly turning into streaks of fire piercing the sky—

And then landing on the tents, wagons, and fences of the Kite Northern Camp!

Although several days of heavy rain had soaked the armaments and tarpaulins, the arrowheads were coated with special oil, allowing them to burn even in the rain. Furthermore, the north wind fanned the flames, causing fires to erupt all over the Kite camp.

Zhao Pan and He Chunhua both sprang awake from their sleep. Rushing out of their tents, they saw flaming arrows flying overhead, seemingly shooting blindly in all directions.

"Be careful, my lord!"

Their personal guards quickly surrounded them.

Zhao Pan grabbed his great bow and casually pulled out a flaming arrow stuck in a tent pole. Ignoring his guards' protests, he rushed a hundred paces forward before drawing his bow and shooting high, aiming for the river surface ahead and below.

With his arm strength, aided by elemental energy, he could shoot an arrow over three hundred paces, even in the northern wind.

The Kite soldiers watched the arrow soar high into the sky and then fall with a fiery glow, illuminating…

A dense mass of troops!

The troops were clad in distinctive armor, almost completely filling the riverbank. Their battle cries shook the heavens as they charged towards the camp.

Xunzou soldiers!

Zhao Pan felt a chill down his spine, and cold sweat beaded on his forehead:

How had Nian Zanli's troops managed to cross the river safely and launch an attack from the south bank?

"Form ranks! Beat the drums and raise the flags!" Regardless of what he was thinking, years of combat experience allowed him to give orders fluently: "Disciplinary squad, forward!"

When armies set up camp, they would bury defensive formations. However, operating these formations consumed a large amount of Xuan Crystals, so they were usually kept deactivated. Zhao Pan had specialized spellcasters under him for this purpose, who immediately went to activate the formation upon hearing the command.

As for beating the drums for advance, that was an impression deeply ingrained in the soldiers' minds. The sound of drums signified that the command was prepared and the army was to counterattack. Soldiers would not panic as much, and could gather their courage to fight back.

After all, they had been caught off guard by the Xunzou forces. Once a unit was routed, no matter how strong individual fighters were, they couldn't prevent a complete collapse.

However, at this moment, a series of cannon blasts echoed from below the riverbank. Seven or eight fire projectiles whizzed in, exploding all over the camp.

The Xunzou army had actually covered their cannons with tarpaulins and transported them across the river—a full twelve of them!

These cannons were delicate; they easily misfired when wet and could injure their own people. Yet, Nian Zanli had meticulously affixed an expensive water-repelling talisman to each cannon.

Furthermore, he had ordered the use of cluster shot: the shells would explode again after landing, scattering dozens of small lead balls.

With added velocity, these became deadly weapons.

With each explosion, dozens of people and horses fell nearby. The horses were terrified, breaking out of their stables and bolting wildly.

At this point, the Kite army also realized that the Xunzou forces had not yet fully landed. At least a few thousand more were still steering their boats ashore, while the vanguard of the main force was already pushing forward.

What was strange was that the river had actually receded, its water level significantly lowered. The riverbank was now over forty zhang away from the current Kite camp, and the river surface was remarkably calm.

It couldn't compare to the tranquility of autumn, but anyone who knew how to swim could easily jump in for a dip.

The mighty river had suddenly lost its powerful current.

What on earth was going on?

The exposed riverbed became the Xunzou forces' landing point.

He Lingchuan was also busy, immediately finding his mount. His Azure Speckled Horse, possessing demon blood, was not easily startled like common horses and was still able to approach him now.

The Medicine Ape immediately shrank into He Lingchuan's arms, while the Rock Wolf got up, shook its fur, and stayed by his side.

Shan Youjun and seven or eight others also followed, calling out, "Boss! What do we do now?"

He Lingchuan had two choices: either rush to He Chunhua's side, ostensibly to protect his father, or stay here and fight the enemy fiercely.

He considered for only a second before telling Shan Youjun: "Archers, get up into the trees. And send someone to find an escape route for me."

"Yes, sir!" Shan Youjun understood that their group was to stay and defend against the enemy; otherwise, they could retreat to the main camp now, so why bother looking for an escape route? But he still felt compelled to remind him, "Boss, your ominous prophecy…"

He had once heard Maotao mention the Boss's previous experience of drawing the worst fortune stick in Immortal Spirit Village.

He Lingchuan felt a jolt.

The enemy had crossed the river silently and arrived prepared, while the Kite forces were ambushed in their sleep, unable to react in time. As things stood, it was a situation where the enemy was strong and they were weak.

In the face of such overwhelming odds, their team of fewer than ten people had limited strength, and he himself needed to be extremely cautious.

The old turtle demon's prophecy had never come true. Would it come true now?

He Lingchuan immediately recalled the character "勇" (courage) that Wen Daolun had interpreted for him in the Coiling Dragon Dream, as well as the amusing phrase he himself had concocted:

"When encountering water, flee."

Directly ahead, the Han River flowed ceaselessly.

Perhaps this was a clear hint. After all, in previous crises, there had been no "water" present, and he had indeed survived safely.

Should he retreat now?

He Lingchuan looked back at the chaotic camp, then at the enemy figures below the riverbank, who were growing closer and closer. With his side facing imminent disaster, was he to shrink from battle and retreat?

He said decisively, "Pay no mind to it. We'll retreat to the hillside and lay obstacles."

The group immediately retreated, heading towards the side of the high ground.

The enemies below surged forward like a tide. If these few people dared to stand directly in front, the ultimate outcome would be to fall straight down.

Small unit combat called for tactics.

What was worse, the original south bank of the Han River had been specially heightened and steepened by the Kite forces, forming what was called a "bank wall," with only a few narrow passages for ascent and descent. This kind of defensive work could resist enemies coming from the opposite bank.

But the river, swollen for days, had long since washed away the bank wall, forcing even the Kite army to retreat. Now they were only stationed on ordinary high ground; where was there any strategic defense left to hold?