Chapter 8
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: Legitimate Self-Defense
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The road from Jinyang back to Saibang was brutally long.
My mind churned the entire time as my body rocked on horseback. That old fox Ding Yuan.
He probably thinks he's caged me as a 'strategist' and slapped a 'Zhang Yang' leash on me. I could clearly picture him lounging in his study, mocking a wolf kept from the battlefield.
"Brother, are you really okay with this?"
Wei Sok, riding beside me, finally opened his mouth again. It was the twelfth question since leaving Jinyang.
"That Zhang Yang is under Ding Yuan too, isn't he? He's sure to be just as arrogant, treating us like hicks. Strategist? You could wipe out those beast cubs with one swing of your spear!"
"Shut up."
"No, it's not the noise! It's frustrating! Just thinking about you getting snubbed again and sitting there like a scarecrow has my stomach in knots already...!"
Instead of replying, I urged my horse to pick up speed. Wei Sok wasn't wrong. But there was something he didn't know.
'There's no rule saying a strategist has to hang back.'
We rode for days amid Wei Sok's nonsense until the familiar barren northern winds began whipping our cheeks. Far off, we spotted the camp where Zhang Yang's army was stationed.
It was larger than expected, but the banners were tattered, and the tents bore clear patchwork repairs. Exhaustion hung over the entire camp more than any vitality.
Wei Sok clicked his tongue at the sight of Zhang Yang's camp.
"Tch, look at that mess. How are they supposed to fight barbarians properly like that?"
"Keep your mouth shut. We'll see when we get there."
Even at my curt rebuke, Wei Sok pouted, refusing to drop his complaints. As we reached the camp entrance, alert soldiers crossed spears to block us.
"Who goes there? State your affiliation!"
Wei Sok stepped forward and bellowed.
"We are Chief Clerk Lu Bu and his men, here on orders from the Bing Province Governor! Make way!"
At the name 'Lu Bu,' the soldiers' eyes widened. They exchanged glances for a moment before one dashed inside. Soon, a soldier in worn armor came hurrying out, bowing to us.
"My apologies! Are you the Strategist Lu? The general is waiting. This way, please."
We followed the soldier inside. But he wasn't leading us to the central command tent. It was the camp's rearmost corner, clustered with the shabbiest tents.
Wei Sok's face twisted at the sight.
"Hey! Where the hell are you taking us? Is this where your commander is? Who guides guests to a pigsty like this? You're deliberately mocking us!"
Wei Sok's outburst made the guide bristle and snap back.
"What nonsense is that? The general is tending to the wounded right now, that's all!"
"Urgh."
The soldier's finger pointed to a cluster of rundown tents leaking groans. As we approached, a foul stench of blood mixed with herbal medicine assaulted our noses.
And there, I faced a scene that utterly shattered my expectations.
In front of a tent strewn with dozens of wounded men lying on the dirt floor, one man squatted just like the other soldiers.
His armor was dented and battered everywhere, impossible to tell if it belonged to a general or a grunt. He was scooping half his portion of coarse grain rice and salt from his wooden bowl into the bowl of a young soldier with bandages on his arm.
"Eat more. You need strength to heal faster."
"...General. I'm fine."
"Fine, my ass. You're younger than me, so you need more to recover quick."
As he handed over his share and looked up, I instinctively knew he was Zhang Yang.
'...What the hell is this guy? A general eating the same slop as his men, rolling in the dirt with them? Damn... in this shitty world, there's still someone like this left.'
I froze in place, staring at him without realizing it.
Then Zhang Yang spotted me and stood. He brushed the dirt off his clothes casually and approached, speaking plainly.
"Ah, you must be the famous Strategist Lu. Tough road here—sorry we can't offer proper hospitality in our state."
There wasn't a trace of testing or condescension in Zhang Yang's voice. Wei Sok, standing beside me, gaped dumbly.
"....."
I was momentarily at a loss for words. I couldn't snap back or sneer like usual. Without thinking, I straightened my back and replied gravely.
"Not at all. For the general himself to rise and welcome me—what greater honor could there be?"
Zhang Yang's eyes widened slightly at my response. He studied me for a moment, then chuckled and clapped my shoulder.
"Haha, good talker. Come inside first. I've got plenty to tell you."
Zhang Yang led me to a small tent that seemed his temporary quarters, far enough from the wounded's groans.
Zhang Yang's temporary tent was more meager than any I'd seen.
A rickety table bore only a map of the Saibang region—no decorations. Dozens of marks cluttered the map: likely bandit hotspots and raided villages.
Zhang Yang offered me a seat and poured water into a rough bowl.
"Wish I had tea—sorry about that."
"No need. Thank you. I'll drink gratefully."
Silence filled the tent as the water slid down my throat.
Zhang Yang spoke first, jabbing a finger at the map with a deep sigh.
"Strategist Lu, you know this area's woes better than I. Shamefully... I could do nothing."
His voice dripped with profound helplessness.
"Lock the gates, and our losses stop. But holing up lets those map dots multiply. I can only watch the people outside become fodder for those beasts. And pitting my mere three thousand against their numbers and cavalry on these open plains... that's just suicide, sending men to die."
Zhang Yang clenched his fist.
"I can't drive my soldiers to death as their general. But... is ignoring the dying people truly right for a general? I ask myself every night. Shamefully, I've found no answer."
I listened quietly. His anguish was genuine.
This man was truly tormented. No need for the 'scales' my master mentioned. He was the first truly respectable virtuous general I'd met.
I set down the bowl and spoke.
"General, your way isn't wrong. Cherishing soldiers is a general's greatest virtue. Charging head-on against beasts is the worst of bad strategies."
Zhang Yang's eyes turned to me in surprise.
"Then... you have a way?"
"There's a method. But it might be... a bit dirty for you to stomach."
I stood and approached the map, pointing to an open plain cunningly hiding marshes and ravines.
"A way to win without setting foot on the battlefield."
"Without going to battle...?"
"Yes. We don't challenge them to fight—we propose 'peace talks.'"
Zhang Yang's brow furrowed at my words.
"Peace talks? They'd never accept..."
"They will. If we bow our heads first. 'No more pointless war of attrition. Bing Province will provide vast supplies. Cease the raids.' They'll think we've cowered and submitted. Arrogant as they are, they'll come to the talks."
"That's deception...!"
Zhang Yang shot to his feet. I continued calmly, as if expecting it.
"Your duty is protecting the people, General. If you hate getting dirty hands in the process, I'll handle it."
I met Zhang Yang's gaze squarely.
"I'll make them draw first at the talks. They'll break faith and ambush us. Then it's not a 'battlefield' but 'legitimate self-defense against an ambush.' I'll just be defending as your attending strategist. Even the Governor can't nitpick that."
"Hmm..."
Zhang Yang's mouth hung open, stunned by the boldness and cunning of my scheme.
"You just watch it all unfold, General. I'll take every villainous role. You become the hero who saved the people. Those beasts don't understand human speech anyway—shouldn't we hunt beasts with beastly ways?"
Silence returned to the tent.
Zhang Yang stared alternately at the map and my face for a long while, his eyes flickering with turmoil. Finally, after what felt like ages, he spoke.
"...All merits and faults fall on the one who leads."
He approached and gripped my hand firmly. His was rough and callused, yet warmer than any words.
"Strategist Lu. I'll trust you once."
"Thank you, General!"
Days later, our envoy returned from the Wuhuan camp. They'd snapped up our 'humiliating' offer.
The day of the talks.
The sky was cloudless and clear. Perfect weather for butchering beast cubs.
Zhang Yang wore his usual battered armor, but his eyes burned with resolve. Beside him stood Wei Sok and ten handpicked guards, silent.
We all carried only a single longsword at our waists—no spears or bows. Minimal arms fitting a parley.
At the appointed plain, dust clouds rose on the horizon.
Moments later, hundreds of Wuhuan cavalry appeared. Contrary to agreement, they were fully armored. At their fore rode a hulking man in ornate furs—their chief, no doubt.
They arrayed in a menacing semicircle around us, oozing intimidation.
"...Gulp..."
I heard Wei Sok swallow hard.
The Wuhuan chief rode arrogantly right up to our faces. He glanced at Zhang Yang, then fixed on me, sneering.
"Well, well. If it isn't Saibang's wolf pup. Word is you've become an old ink-slinger's dog, wagging your tail. Chose the wrong master. Join our steppe dogs, and we'd at least toss you bones."
"Hahaha! The pup can't even snag bones—quite the sight!"
The surrounding Wuhuan riders cackled. Wei Sok and the guards flushed red.
'Ha, thanks, you beast. Dancing before I even lay out the mat. Makes this easier.'
Instead of rage, I stepped forward with a lazy expression and hurled mockery back.
"Dogs recognize dogs. But as a man, I can't parse beast babble. Beasts surely ignore promises and honor. Did you even grasp 'peace' coming to these talks?"
The mirth vanished from the chief's face. He narrowed his eyes, glaring.
"Seems you think that tongue outlives you."
"Not a tongue—facts. Know how laughable it is for steppe 'warriors' who only prey on the weak?"
"You dare...!"
The chief's face turned beet red. I didn't stop, delivering the finisher.
"Is that sword decorative? Or are you too cowardly to draw? Quit barking—bite. I'll let you see if it's wolf or dog tearing your throat."
"You mangy cur! Die!"
The chief finally lost reason, roaring as he drew his blade. Hundreds of Wuhuan cavalry charged with war cries.
Wei Sok and the guards formed a defensive circle around Zhang Yang in shock, but against hundreds of horse, it was sand against tide.
Now it was my time to move.
The chief's blade flashed toward my neck like lightning. But the world slowed.
'Sloppy.'
I twisted slightly, letting it graze past. As his sword whistled empty air, my blade was already arcing for his nape.
—Squelch.
It sank smooth as slicing meat. The chief's eyes quivered. Before comprehension, hot blood gushed from his throat.
"Gurk... how..."
"Too hasty— that'll do it?"
I withdrew my sword, watching his corpse tumble from the horse. I flicked the blood off like dust.
The Wuhuan riders faltered at the sight. Their chief dead in one exchange.
"Ch-Chief!"
"Impossible... in one clash!"
But their shock didn't last.
"You dare to the chief!!"
"Die!! You cur!!"
Rage-blinded, they swarmed from all sides.
A spearman charged from the left, aiming for my side. I smirked at the tip.
'To use cavalry's edge, keep distance and thrust. This fool's too close.'
I ducked the spear and seized his leg amid the horse's momentum, yanking hard.
"Argh!"
He flew off, crashing down. I leaped atop and plunged my sword into his throat.
"Guhk..."
No time to dawdle. Two more rushed from right and rear.
I snatched the dead man's spear and spun. Sword in right, spear in left.
"Two at once..."
Axe swung from right, sword thrust from behind. I jabbed the spear back, piercing the rear attacker's heart, parried the axe with my sword, then slid the blade up, splitting his jaw.
"Graaak!"
"Guk!"
Both crumpled near-simultaneously. Mere seconds in—four dead already.
Unease flickered in the remaining Wuhuans' eyes.
"Wh-what is that guy?"
"No way... eyes in the back of his head?"
They still trusted their numbers. Ten closed in together.
I tossed the spear, gripping only my sword. I scanned them slowly.
"All come at once. Even one by one, can you scratch me?"
"What!? Insolent bastard!"
Provoked, they rushed. A dozen blades converged.
But my sword danced crimson arcs, birthing screams each pass. When I paused, sweat-hot, a mound of corpses surrounded me.
"Hic...!"
"Th-that's human?!"
Terror, not fight, dawned in their eyes.
As the beasts' momentum broke, earth-shaking cheers erupted from the plain's edges.
"Waaah!!"
"Kill the barbarians!!"
From hills beyond, ravine gaps, our pit traps—three thousand soldiers burst forth.
"Wh-what!? Enemies everywhere...!"
"Y-you bastards!!! This wasn't for talks!?"
I readjusted my bloodied sword, grinning at their despair.
"Ha, who 'broke' the talks first?"
I'd only drawn to defend myself.