Deep Nightmare - 6
The talisman array that slammed incoming arrows into the ground couldn't stop the charging martial artists either. It seemed like the lighter the object, the stronger the array's effect—but with my humble liberal arts knowledge from my past life, it was nothing but confusing. Don't heavier objects feel gravity more strongly? That's what I remembered learning back then.
But my inner turmoil settled quickly. In the first place, assuming the array worked through gravity was just my guess. The martial artists were using lightness skills to charge forward, so they might be less affected by it. Hadn't Jeong Gi-ryeong, who explained the array, said something like, "Even nimble martial artists trip over their own feet"?
That's why we didn't see the Mongols crawling on the ground—but it didn't matter.
"They're closing in!"
"Prepare the oil! Pour it if they stick to the walls!"
"Ready the fire arrows! Launch them even if the walls catch fire!"
Instead of suffering one-sided arrow barrages, it was better to engage them in close combat. Of course, in terms of raw destructive power, a sword swung by hand outdid arrows loosed by martial artists. Nomads who ate more meat than peasants often had tougher physiques too.
Still, one-sided beatings and mutual brawls were worlds apart. At least now we had a way to fight back and a chance to kill them.
They've definitely slowed down.
The Mongols, who had dismounted and charged at high speed, visibly slowed the moment they entered the array's range. Even accounting for that, they were faster than most martial artists, which was impressive—but their ferocious mobility had dropped to something manageable. That was encouraging. There was a big difference between an unkillable monster and just a strong one.
"Climb the walls! Tank a few arrows with your bodies!"
"Don't clump up! Scatter if you don't want to get roasted together!"
"Arrows fly normal at close range! Cover the rear while the front climbs!"
Soon, the Mongols' shouts reached the soldiers atop the walls. I couldn't understand their language, but it was clear they were howling as they charged. A proper talisman was essential for smooth combat, after all.
"We're lucky to have the Taoists. We'd still be pinned by arrows without them."
"Agreed. If we're picking the MVPs of this battle, Gongdongpa takes it."
I drew my sword and spoke to the Jiayu Commandant, who nodded in agreement. If we hadn't invited the Gongdongpa Taoists, if they hadn't drawn the array, how much worse would it have been? Worst case, we'd be taking flaming or poisoned arrows head-on.
"That said, Left Vice Inspector—if you've changed your mind even now—"
"The soldiers who can't even cultivate are ready to die. How could I, a martial artist, hang back?"
I answered the Commandant's subtle urging firmly. He said an external guest like me didn't need to fight. A central bureaucrat getting hurt at Jiayu Pass would be trouble, and as lord of the pass, he couldn't allow a guest to come to harm anyway.
But as I just said, I couldn't pull back. I might self-deprecate as a third-rate hack usually, but in a melee, even one first-rate made a difference. First-rates were veteran-level by default.
If I bail now, I'll never live it down.
Plus, treated like a high central official, only to vanish first at the first sign of danger? Even if it was the Commandant's urging, what would the border generals and soldiers think? The shields meant to guard the frontiers might start distrusting and scorning the center. That would be disastrous. With murim factions across the nation to manage already, shaky local control would be a catastrophe.
"...Understood. But please don't stray from my side."
"Of course. I'd prefer not to get hurt too badly myself."
The Commandant seemed to get it and stopped pushing retreat. Instead, he suggested one last safeguard, his eyes warmer with approval. As a military man, he respected the no-retreat spirit.
An oversized ego... I nearly burst out laughing. No wonder history's version of him had that ego—it fit this hot-blooded, rough type.
"Charge!"
"Hold them!"
Soon, some Mongols crested the walls, and waiting martial artists swarmed them. Damn bastards. Scaling despite arrows, oil, and rocks already? Were they all amateur climbers?
And this is with the array suppressing them. Gotta hand it to their toughness. If only they'd turn that on their own civil wars.
I'd said I couldn't retreat while soldiers fought, but I hadn't swung my drawn sword yet. Not all wall positions were equal. Martial artists held the front line in the melee, regular soldiers backed them up in the second, and commanders like me oversaw from the third.
Frankly, it was embarrassing. If top commanders swung swords personally, the battle was already lost. Yet here I was, grandly declaring central trust and local control.
"We're all comrades fighting the same battle on these walls, positions aside. You're our comrade too, Left Vice Inspector—so watch the field with us."
Reading my feelings, the Commandant offered comfort that wasn't quite comfort. But was it my imagination? His words carried deeper emotion than usual, like sharing his own story.
He must've been like this once too. It made sense. Even if he wanted promotion by merit over connections, as a duke's kin, he hadn't started as a lowly officer. He'd probably charged in as a newbie, sword in hand, only to learn commanders rarely fought directly.
Suddenly, I felt closer to him...
Their martial forces were tougher than expected. Not many above master level as anticipated, but the first-rates' coordination was fierce.
Numbers are still king, past or present. A wry smile escaped me. They outnumbered us vastly and controlled it well. Weaklings individually became a solid mass in dozens, hundreds, thousands. That was the serfs' strength—hard for us to match.
If only the steppes truly united.
Great Taizu the Martial Emperor had unified the vast steppes, rallying warriors to conquer the world. Under his son, Taizong the Civil Emperor, they spread everywhere. But we, once the continent's terror united, fractured. Even within one nation, factions clashed. Lacking numbers, we fought among ourselves instead of uniting. That drove us back to our homeland—not by choice, but pushed by serf blades and spears.
We must unite now. I steeled myself, cleaving a charging serf. Late, but all the more reason to hurry. Though driven from the Central Plains, our true home was the steppes. United, we'd fear no serfs. They'd fear us. This battle was a step—showing our strength to deter steppe invasions. But the true goal: a united steppe.
She's riding well, I bet. I glanced north. By now, troops from Jiayu should be torching the southwest steppes. Everything per his plan.
Time to pull back.
Just two days in. We'd shaken them for a mere two. No need to overextend when capture wasn't the goal. Retreat today, poke tomorrow.
"Retreat! We're done for today!"
"Fall back! Fall back!"
"We fight again tomorrow! Conserve strength—withdraw!"
My aides echoed across the field. Yes, we'd fight tomorrow. We chose the when, not them.
The ferocious Mongols suddenly leaped from the walls and withdrew. Too abrupt for pursuit. Even if we tried, catching them was doubtful.
This array bites us too. I clicked my tongue at the retreating foes. Meant to block their attacks, it hampered our arrows too. We couldn't even harass the withdrawing enemy in range. Wanted to fire cannons, but they don't reload instantly. Maybe preload during melees next time...
"Strange."
The Commandant, watching beside me, muttered uneasily.
"They pulled back too easily."
"Preserving strength for tomorrow, probably."
"That's what's odd. Things that can breach the array and scale the walls... why drag this out in fits and starts?"
I glanced at the sky. The sun hadn't moved much since the fight began. Their assault lasted maybe two or three hours before abandoning their climbers.
What the hell? Couldn't make sense of it. Why attack just to leave? Coming back tomorrow made it weirder.
"...They're blatantly stalling."
The Commandant nodded at my take.
"Even without reason to."
I nodded back. Yangyang Wang's raiders should be burning their southwest now. Instead of stopping it, they stall at Jiayu? We weren't tying them down for our raiders—they were volunteering?
Why? Confusing. We defend when attacked, sure—but with their home burning, why prolong? It should be reversed.