Duel (1)
It's not a dream. The moment he realized that what lay before his eyes—and his own dire situation—was stark reality, Kang Minju's face drained of color.
One soldier froze, glancing warily at Zhang Fei.
"General. Is something wrong?"
"Ah, it's nothing. Get out."
Minju clamped his lips shut and waved the soldier away with a flick of his hand. Alone in the tent at last, his heart began to pound like mad. No, not his heart—it felt like a massive war drum being thrashed. Zhang Fei's body was boiling with blood, eager for the battle ahead once more, but the mind of Kang Minju controlling it was crushed under abject terror, screaming silently.
Me... go out there and fight again? I chopped off heads yesterday, and now they want me to pull that insane stunt today too?
The realization that this wasn't some dream but cold, hard reality made his legs buckle, trembling as if drained of strength. He wanted to run. To escape this mad era right now. But there was a problem.
"How the hell do I even run?"
The words "run away" slipping from Zhang Fei's mouth were shocking in themselves. But Kang Minju had no time to care about that. His life was on the line.
That was when the tent flap was yanked open roughly, and Guan Yu strode in.
"Yide!"
Guan Yu swept his sharp gaze over Minju's face, his Green Dragon Crescent Blade held at his side. His phoenix eyes gleamed dangerously.
"Yellow Turban remnants are gathering. We'll counter at once, so stand at the vanguard with me and break their morale first."
"M-me?"
The idiotic echo slipped out despite himself. God, what must Guan Yu think?
"What nonsense is this, Yide?"
"S-sorry, brother."
Cold sweat trickled down Minju's spine. The pressure was choking him. But if Zhang Fei—the proud vanguard of Liu Bei's army alongside Guan Yu—showed fear on the eve of battle, the entire volunteer force's morale would plummet. Liu Bei would be flustered, and Guan Yu, a warrior to his bones, might suspect him, despise him, or worse—demand to know where the real Zhang Fei had gone while pressing a blade to his throat.
Minju squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them. He exhaled the heavy air filling his lungs slowly, deeply. Huu—. The method he'd used for over twenty years in the modern world: suppressing himself, hiding his fear, donning the "mask" the world demanded as the right answer. If this unavoidable reality was upon him, he'd have to fool them thoroughly to survive.
Minju's eyes flashed. Forcing a hearty laugh in Zhang Fei's bombastic style, he bellowed,
"Kahahaha! What kind of talk is that, brother? Would the mighty Zhang Yide of the realm really turn fool over some petty Yellow Turban scum? I'm fine. I'll go wipe their seed from the earth!"
Guan Yu's face finally eased into a relieved smile at the resounding bravado.
"Good. Hearing you say that puts my mind at ease. But don't overdo it like yesterday. Those bastards might be—"
Guan Yu still seemed to harbor a thread of doubt as he stroked his chin beard, but confirming Zhang Fei's spirit, he nodded.
"Then arm up and come out. Subduing the Yellow Turbans and righting this chaotic world won't end in a day or two. The road ahead is long."
"Yes, brother!"
Kang Minju dragged his reluctant feet forward.
This... this is really happening to me.
Kang Minju swallowed dryly. His throat scraped like sandpaper.
The more he grasped the reality, the harder it was to breathe. Absentmindedly, he looked ahead.
At the forefront rode Guan Yu. His phoenix-red face like a jujube, his magnificent beard over two chi long fluttering pleasantly in the wind, and the Green Dragon Crescent Blade gripped lightly in one hand like a broom. Even just sitting astride his horse, his presence crushed the air around him—an untouchable god of war's aura.
A bit further back, Liu Bei was exchanging brief words with the soldiers, meeting their eyes.
"No need to tense up. Hold formation and trust each other's backs."
A calm, gentle voice. No flashy martial prowess like Guan Yu's, but an uncanny pull on men's hearts, like the leader of a pack of beasts. The soldiers' gazes held not blind obedience to a superior, but a deep, sticky faith.
And then, the hundreds of sticky stares aimed at Minju himself. The mad fierce general who yesterday plunged alone into the enemy ranks and returned. The reliable vanguard of this ragtag volunteer army. Their blind expectations, trust, vague admiration—it stung like hundreds of arrows piercing his back.
These men believed not in Minju, but in the monster called Zhang Fei.
Minju ground his teeth until his jaw ached.
No. Get it together, Kang Minju. If your mentality crumbles here and you screw up, you're dead for real.
That was when a scout from the front kicked up dust, galloping back in haste.
"Report!"
Gasping for breath, the soldier half-tumbled from his horse and knelt before Liu Bei.
"Beyond the hill ahead, hundreds of Yellow Turbans have set camp! Too many to call scattered remnants!"
The air around them froze cold in an instant. Liu Bei's gentle expression hardened calmly, sharpening.
"What's their quality?"
"Discipline's a mess! Flags aren't uniform, formation's sloppy. But they've got carts and broken spears aplenty... and someone acting like a leader is rallying them!"
Guan Yu stroked his beard and snorted coldly.
"Hmph. Seems a rat with some brains mixed in among the rabble remnants."
Liu Bei nodded silently, then slowly turned to look back. His deep gaze passed Guan Yu and settled on Minju.
"Yunchang, Yide. You two take the vanguard as planned. I'll steady the main body from the center and cover your rear."
"Understood, brother."
Guan Yu tilted his crescent blade lightly, his reply short and weighty.
Minju swallowed and opened his mouth a beat late.
"Ah, no... y-yes, yes! Brother!"
His voice nearly cracked.
Moments later, as the army crested the gentle hill and vision cleared, the enemy came into full view, just as reported. On the parched plain shrouded in acrid yellow dust, Yellow Turbans in ragged yellow headscarves—filthy as beggars—swarmed like ants in disarray. Some clutched spears with snapped tips, others rusted sickles, even wooden clubs or farm tools aplenty. No proper armor among the motley crew.
But human wave tactics were never to be underestimated. The malice and killing intent from hundreds poisoned the plain's air. On paper, not a force the volunteers could scoff at.
And at the center of their lines. Taller-headed than the scrawny rabble around him, a vicious-faced brute patched in crude iron armor scraps stood with a massive broadsword slung over his shoulder. Broad shoulders like rice cakes, shaggy beard, eyes blazing with venom. Less a general leading troops, more a bandit chief skinning men alive.
The man spurred forward roughly, then bellowed toward the volunteers like vomiting blood.
"Which of you is that Zhang Fei under Liu Xuande?!"
Thud—!
Minju's heart literally hit rock bottom. Why? Why me of all people!
Hundreds—no, over a thousand eyes from both armies locked onto him at once. Guan Yu watched leisurely from horseback, arms crossed, while Liu Bei stood silent, awaiting Minju's choice.
The Yellow Turban chief hefted his massive sword high, roaring like a beast.
"Are you that mad, black-bearded butcher who slaughtered our brothers yesterday?! If you've got balls, don't hide behind and face me in single combat! I'll sever your throat for the altar and appease our Heavenly Lord General and fallen brothers!"
In that instant, Minju's mind went white.
Single combat?
A sanctioned slaughter where one lives and one must die. No way Kang Minju would accept that. He wanted to refuse. Desperately, truly madly.
"Uh, look. I've got a bit of stomach trouble today, so my condition's off..."
He was about to spit out the absurd excuse when a nearby volunteer soldier, eyes bloodshot, shouted first.
"As expected, General Zhang must step up!"
That sparked it.
"Hahaha! Even those country bumpkin Yellow Turbans know to fear our general!"
"General Zhang! Take that bastard's head in one stroke, and their morale will crater!"
Cheers mixed with excitement, frenzy, madness erupted like a volcano from all around.
"General Zhang!"
"General Yide!"
"Go sweep them away!"
In that moment, Kang Minju knew. He was fucked.