Phoenix (3)

The Vine Armor Soldiers — a force that could stand proudly as the very elite of the Nanman army.

The army under Pang Tong's command clashed with Oldolgol several more times after that.

"What the—? How is armor made of wood this hard?!"

"Uhyahaha! You'll never bring us down with slashes like that!"

Unless one attacked the gaps in the plating, only a handful of fighters alive could punch through the Vine Armor's defense and land a meaningful blow.

"Then I'll crush you along with that armor!!"

"GYAAAH?!"

It was Wei Yan, whirling her heavy spear with ferocious momentum.

"Hrk—!"

And Huang Zhong, whose superb archery sought out nothing but the vital points.

"Well, well. We meet again, huh?"

"DIE—!!"

And Gan Ning, who grappled Oldolgol and held him in place every single time battle was joined....

At a glance, it was a scene that could easily be mistaken for the General-in-Chief's army faring poorly. In truth, however, the damage his forces suffered was remarkably slight. The officers did their utmost to hold the battle line intact before falling back in good order, keeping losses to a minimum — and besides....

"You barbarians! Did you think you alone were blessed with fine armor?!"

"Uhyahaha! Watching you flail about, unable to cut through a single suit of armor, is quite the entertainment!"

Just as the Nanman soldiers' own blades found no purchase on their foes, the Nanman assault found little purchase on the General-in-Chief's troops either. These were, after all, his own direct troops, long accustomed to taking orders under his command, and they too were thoroughly armed and equipped. So long as their flanks and rear went unstruck and they met the enemy head-on in good formation, no force — not even the Vine Armor Soldiers — could simply bulldoze its way through. If anything, the truly astonishing thing was the raw power of the Vine Armor, able to hold even a slight edge in a direct contest of strength against soldiers said to have no rival under heaven.

Perhaps it was because, before Meng Huo united the Nanman tribes, quarrels among them had been an everyday affair. The Vine Armor army led by Oldolgol showed itself thoroughly practiced in the business of war.

Pang Tong, watching the battlefield unfold, murmured:

"Y-yes, I expected as much, but... if we meet them honestly, head-on, the losses will be heavy..."

It would surely take a great deal of time, and cost the lives of many soldiers. A victory won that way was no victory at all.

The strategist with the striking hair of mingled orange and green, tied into two low bunches at the nape of her neck, gave her order once more.

"We will proceed according to the original plan.... Please order the retreat."

"Yes, ma'am!"

The aide who attended Pang Tong at her side cried out in a ringing voice.

"Sound the gong! They are to withdraw in good order — see to it the enemy cannot pursue at will!"

Gong— gong— gong—

Both armies, having clashed several times already, spat curses the moment the gong's peal rolled across the battlefield.

"Ptui! You got lucky today, barbarians!"

"Running off once a day, every single day — and still they've got plenty to say!"

Just as the Nanman said, Pang Tong's army was indeed falling back little by little. And so the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Nanman chased them down and clashed with them again, and again neither side could ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠finish the other, until both withdrew in exhaustion — the same dance, over and over. This half-hearted war had already dragged on for days.

Oldolgol's camp.

Oldolgol was filling his belly on raw beast meat, blood still dripping from it, when a figure came to pay his respects.

"I, Ahui Nan, humbly greet the King of Wuge!"

"...What... is it?"

When the officer Meng Huo had attached to him came calling, Oldolgol gave him a look of mild curiosity.

Bending low so as not to ruffle his lord's temper, Ahui Nan spoke.

"Before we set out, the King of the Nanman gave us this command! There may be traps lying in wait, so do not pursue the enemy too deep...!"

It was a sensible order, if nothing else. Meng Huo knew Oldolgol's temperament well — he understood nothing in this world but charging straight ahead — and she had been worrying for some time that sooner or later that very nature would invite disaster.

Oldolgol, who had been listening, said:

"...You still... don't see it?"

"...Pardon?"

"We... are already... caught... in the trap."

Ahui Nan could only look bewildered. Already caught in a trap? What was that supposed to mean?

"The moment... we stop... the pursuit here... the enemy... will attack... from all sides."

"......"

To be sure, they currently held a slight advantage in the direct contest of strength — but only because a number of Vine Armor Soldiers had kept rigorous watch over the rear and the flanks. It was something the enemy possessed, and he did not.

"You... have half-grasped... it yourself... haven't you?"

"That is..."

It came down to whether or not he commanded an elite cavalry force capable of stabbing into an opening. Already, several bodies of horsemen were swinging wide around Oldolgol's camp, weaving a subtle net of encirclement. If he tried to pull his army out clumsily in this state, they would be skewered through the gap and broken.

He had heard that Meng Huo, too, was attempting to raise cavalry from the horses recently captured in Yi Province, but that the effort had produced little to show for it. In her own words, it was not something that could be managed in a short span of time. Apparently, building up cavalry as a branch of arms took a very long while indeed.

"I... know no trick... of retreating... without baring... my throat... the way the enemy does."

Swinging an axe on the front line oneself narrowed the field of vision, and he could no more recite the treatises of war by rote than his enemies could swing an axe. Their provisions were ample, true, but there was no telling how long those would last. Oldolgol was a man far removed from schemes and stratagems — yet long experience told him exactly how he had to act now.

"Either... we crush... the enemy... or we... are defeated."

"......"

"Those... are the only... choices... left."

The enemy's movements flowed like water, so smooth and natural that their design went unnoticed until far too late. ...It seemed the enemy counted a very cunning head among their number.

Oldolgol spoke to Ahui Nan.

"Trust me. I... never... lose."

"Yes, sir!"

Before so proud a declaration, Ahui Nan could only bow his head. It was true. These were invincible soldiers who had never once lost a battle. Even if the enemy resorted to strange tricks, they could surely smash them head-on. The confidence and pride these warriors had always carried had, with victory heaped upon victory, somewhere along the way curdled into arrogance.

So the day passed, and the next one came.

"...Fallen... back... again."

Waking from sleep, Oldolgol stepped outside as he had the day before, studied the enemy's movements, and muttered. The enemy camp that had surely sat close by even the night before had withdrawn farther still — it was now planted on the far side of a rather broad gorge.

"They... take me... lightly."

Did they imagine he would fear to charge deep into their lines? From an enemy that had done nothing but retreat, more than seven times now, there was no reason whatsoever to shrink.

"Eat... your fill."

Oldolgol, eyes fixed on the enemy camp, commanded his entire army.

"Today... we end... this."

"Yes!"

Oldolgol, glaring at the enemy as he spoke, looked for all the world like a wild beast.

"I-it's really not long now..."

The strategist with the frail, youthful face turned the terrain map spread before her this way and that as she spoke. The stratagem Pang Tong had devised to bring down Oldolgol — hailed as the finest soldier of the Nanman army — was, in itself, simple. Lure the enemy into a gorge with no escape, then annihilate them with an ambush. Spoken aloud, it was a very simple plan indeed; realizing it, however, had taken enormous effort.

Hoping to make the encirclement that much more airtight, she had clashed with the enemy again and again to buy time, and through every withdrawal she had commanded her soldiers with everything she had so that they would not suffer grievous losses. Should any enemy relief force appear, the General-in-Chief himself had promised to hold it back — there would be no problem there. All that remained was for her to make the plan succeed.

"Ughhh... I really do have to pull this off..."

Shut the gates to catch the thief — surround the enemy and bar every road of escape. A proud army must surely fail — troops flushed with victory and full of boast are certain to lose. Using swift, mobile units, they had thrown a wide net around the Vine Armor force that had chased them in, and the enemy, drunk on a string of victories, had grown arrogant. If she wove these threads together well, then victory was by no means beyond her reach.

"And now, if I fold in the stratagem of the buried ambush on top of that..."

Pang ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Tong murmured, turning something over in her mind, then let out an anxious sigh.

"...C-could ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠this, too, be counted as a kind of Chain Strategy...?"

What if it doesn't work?

Having murmured it without a shred of confidence, Pang Tong gave her head a brisk shake and steeled her heart.

"I-if it won't work, then I'll make it work!"

As far as she was concerned, she had put on a suitably resolute expression; to anyone else watching, it was simply adorable.

Pang Tong thought back to the first time she had stood before the General-in-Chief.

He was the one who had believed in her — her, whom no one but her uncle had ever thought highly of. What on earth had he seen in her, to say such a thing?

"......"

Calling him to mind, Pang Tong pressed her lips tight and put on a gaze steeped in resolve.