Four Captures, Four Releases (1)
While Meng Huo and King Mulu flailed helplessly against the Shu army’s fire attack, a flying column of five thousand under Lady Zhurong swung wide, intent on a sudden strike at the Shu main camp.
They meant to move with silent cunning and seize Zhuge Liang himself—but the detouring force ran straight into Shu’s right wing. The generals commanding that wing were the traitors Dong Dona and Ah Huinan, posted there by Zhuge Liang’s order precisely to guard against any Man force that might circle for the rear.
The moment she laid eyes on the turncoats, Lady Zhurong’s gaze went sharp as a blade and she roared.
“So here you are, you vile, disgusting traitors!”
There was no chance she would simply ride past the men who had sold out her husband. Murderous killing intent rolled off her as she charged without a heartbeat’s hesitation.
“L-Lady Zhurong!!”
The two men who had once served Meng Huo knew all too well how terrifying her martial skill truly was.
“Stop that woman!”
Ah Huinan shouted in desperation, and soldiers rushed to bar her path.
“You think the likes of you can stop me?”
Lady Zhurong laughed them off as if they were a joke. She lacked Meng Huo’s raw, crushing strength, but her technique was superb. Every sweep of her spear dropped soldiers as if they were straw.
“Die!”
Dong Dona, white with terror, swung his spear—and she slipped past it as lightly as wind.
“Take this from Ah Huinan as well!”
“For you, this will be enough!”
Moving with feline quickness, Lady Zhurong plucked a throwing dagger from her sash and cast it. The blade cut the air and buried itself cleanly in Ah Huinan’s throat.
“Gah!”
He never even had time to react. Ah Huinan toppled from his horse’s neck and was gone.
“Ah Huinan!”
Dong Dona cried out in horror at the sight of his comrade’s death.
“Who’s worrying about whom?!”
Lady Zhurong did not miss the opening. Her spear punched straight through Dong Dona’s chest.
“…We don’t need to take them prisoner?”
Meng Huaman cantered up from behind and asked the question. Lady Zhurong shook her head.
“Do traitors have any value as captives?”
Shu officers might be worth the trouble—but these two? None. No nation willingly suffered losses just to coddle turncoats.
“Our target is Zhuge Liang! Advance!!”
Crushing the traitors had exposed their position, yet they could not turn back now. The main Shu host should still be tangled with the beast corps, she judged. Seizing the golden chance, the flying column drove boldly for the Shu main camp, certain the enemy commander would be directing the battle from there.
But the Shu army, having already weathered one assault, answered with lightning speed. They had planted abatis of deer-horn stakes to break any charge, and used that barrier as cover while they loosed the Yuanrong Crossbows. Man soldiers went down helpless under the storm of bolts.
“Hold them!”
Po Sanniang, commanding the crossbow companies, shouted orders over the din.
“Huaman—smash the abatis and cut down the officer directing those crossbows!”
Lady Zhurong ordered her daughter to take Po Sanniang, then spurred away herself to strike at Yao Hua.
“Yes, Mother!”
Meng Huaman cracked the reins, and the Curly-haired Red Hare shot forward like an arrow. Rain-like shafts hissed all around them, yet the legendary mount’s speed made a mockery of the barrage.
It’s as if I’m looking at the Red Hare itself.
The lines of the beast were a little different, but the warhorse under the enemy rider still made Po Sanniang think of Guan Yu’s Red Hare. Meng Huaman came on with a short spear in each hand, charging straight for her.
“Enemy general—I’ve come for your head!”
Po Sanniang drew her blade and met the attack head-on.
Clang!
“My head is not so lightly taken!”
She turned the short spears aside, then flowed into a beautiful reverse stroke aimed at Meng Huaman’s throat. Huaman jerked her head back; the edge still kissed her cheek and left a thin line of blood.
“Not bad!”
Huaman lunged again.
Clang!! Clash!
A duel between female warriors turned less on overwhelming strength than on quickness and footwork. Blow after furious blow, their skills were nearly matched—Huaman held the edge in raw power, Po Sanniang in pure technique. Facing an opponent so close to her own level lit a fire of competitive pride in Meng Huaman’s chest.
But at this rate we’ll never decide it.
She would gladly have fought on, yet if they dragged their feet the main Shu host would return and the whole situation would collapse. Decision made, Huaman wheeled and fled.
Suddenly?
Po Sanniang frowned at the unexpected retreat, yet she could not let the woman escape. Wary, she gave chase.
…Now!
The moment Po Sanniang closed in, Huaman produced a throwing dagger from her robes and cast it. Po Sanniang, already on guard, swung to bat the blade aside—but Huaman had never aimed at her.
Thud!
The dagger sank between the eyes of Po Sanniang’s mount. The horse crashed to the earth and flung its rider hard to the ground.
“…Ugh!”
She managed a desperate breakfall that saved her head, but the shock of impact left her body trembling and unresponsive. Surrounding Man soldiers closed in and looked to Huaman.
“Princess, shall we kill her?”
“No. Take her prisoner. She’s a fine officer—she has value as a captive.”
Zhuge Liang, she had heard, had spared her own father twice. If she killed a Shu general now, people would say the King of the Man, for all the mercy shown him, had slaughtered an enemy officer out of spite—and brand him a small-minded man forever after.
“Seize that officer and fall back. We’ve already delayed too long.”
At Huaman’s command the soldiers moved in to grab Po Sanniang—
BOOM!
A thunderous impact exploded behind them and Man soldiers went flying. Huaman felt the danger at once and crossed her short spears to block.
CLANG!
The massive blow drove her reeling backward. A fraction slower and her head would have left her shoulders.
…That man—
Call it a wild animal’s instinct: Meng Huaman knew at once that the one who had struck at her was no ordinary foe. The general with the crescent blade cut down the soldiers about to seize Po Sanniang with single strokes and pulled her free.
“Nanggun!”
Color flooded back into Po Sanniang’s face at the sight of Guan Suo, the man who had just saved her life.
“Sanniang—are you all right?”
“Yes. I was only startled.”
Using her sword as a staff, she forced herself upright. Guan Suo’s cold eyes turned toward the enemy behind them. He had just watched Zhao Yun’s stratagem succeed and ridden back, never expecting the enemy to circle and strike so hard.
At least they never meant to kill her. That’s a mercy.
He and Po Sanniang had grown close; if they had slain her, he might well have lost his reason.
But is that horse… Red Hare?
No—he had heard the Red Hare died following its master, Guan Yu. Besides, this animal’s mane and coat were thicker than the legendary steed Guan Yu had ridden.
The Curly-haired Red Hare, then?
He recalled a famous mount once ridden by Lady Zhurong, said to resemble Red Hare closely. Whatever its bloodline, it was clearly a superb warhorse.
…A famous mount. I want it.
His own army horse tired too quickly under the weight of the crescent blade; he had long envied anyone who sat a better one.
“……”
Huaman was staring at Guan Suo without blinking.
“…What’s your name?”
“Guan Suo, Colonel of Shu Han. And you?”
She looked far too young to be Meng Huo’s wife, so he asked.
“I am Meng Huaman! Princess of Nanzhong!!”
Meng Huaman? That one?
In the Hua Guansuo Zhuan she was Meng Huo’s daughter—and Guan Suo’s wife.
I never thought we’d meet like this…
The unexpected encounter made Guan Suo’s brow tighten. He adjusted his grip on the weapon and fixed her with a hard stare.
“…That blow you just threw at me. Heavy. Not bad at all.”
“What?”
Something about the way she spoke felt off. The sudden praise drained a little of the killing edge from Guan Suo’s aura.
“And that handsome face and solid frame of yours—finest I’ve seen among any of the men.”
Meng Huaman was praising not only his martial skill but his looks as well.
“I like you. I’m going to capture you and make you my stud!!”
She shouted it and charged.
“S-stud? Has she gone mad?!”
Po Sanniang’s face twisted so fiercely she almost forgot her pain. Guan Suo, equally dumbfounded, still met Huaman’s short spears and turned them aside. As the barrage of points rained down, his eyes grew serious.
…So this is what you get from being Meng Huo and Lady Zhurong’s daughter?
Huaman felt stronger than E Huan or Mang Yachang. Of course, after all the grinding under Zhao Yun, she was still no true match for him.
Shhhk!
The crescent blade whispered past and clipped the very tips of Meng Huaman’s hair. A chill ran through her; she fell back into pure defense. What let her last even this long against Guan Suo was largely the Curly-haired Red Hare. The famous mount gave her the edge in mobility and stamina, yet Guan Suo’s own horsemanship was so superb the gap never became decisive.
Cold sweat beaded on Huaman’s brow; exhaustion began to show.
—Clang!
One short spear went spinning away off the crescent blade. Huaman hissed and flung two throwing daggers at Guan Suo’s horse. He caught the shaft of his blade in one hand and spun it like a waterwheel; the daggers bounced harmlessly aside. Having already seen what those daggers had done to Po Sanniang’s mount, he was fully prepared for her throwing skill.
“Hahah!”
Even with her counter blocked, Huaman only seemed to like him more; a smile broke across her face.
She’s the princess of the Nanman—I can’t kill her. Have to subdue her.
Zhuge Liang’s goal was the submission of Nanzhong. Kill Meng Huaman and they could forget the seven captures and seven releases; the Man would come howling for vengeance with blood in their eyes. So judging, Guan Suo closed in, meaning to knock her senseless with the shaft of the blade.
Then a sudden cold dread swept over him. He twisted the weapon’s path and smashed something out of the air behind him. The thing that clattered to the ground after striking the crescent blade was one of Lady Zhurong’s throwing daggers. She had sensed her daughter’s danger and come to help.
“Tch!”
What is this, the Tang Clan of Sichuan? Why is everyone throwing daggers?
With Lady Zhurong’s failed ambush and sudden entry, the fight naturally became two against one.
“Cowards!!”
Shu soldiers howled in outrage at the sight of two women ganging up on Guan Suo. He himself felt no urge to complain. It’s not as if I’m facing some living saint. In the Romance, even the greatest heroes often got piled on by half the battlefield when the enemy wanted them taken. If anything, it was proof they recognized him as a fierce general.
Guan Suo fought a savage three-cornered duel against Lady Zhurong and Meng Huaman. He knocked aside another of Lady Zhurong’s daggers with the blunt end of his blade, then shifted his grip to meet Huaman’s short spears—
“Hold!!”
From far off Yao Hua came galloping, shouting toward the Nanman flying column.
“King Mulu is dead, and the King of the Nanman, Meng Huo, has been taken! Cast down your weapons and surrender!”
“…What? Father?”
“And we’re supposed to believe that?”
Lady Zhurong and Meng Huaman thought Yao Hua was lying and meant to keep fighting—until he held up the very helmet Meng Huo always wore.
“Can you still think that after seeing this?”
The report that Meng Huo had been captured yet again left both women ashen and stunned.
“……”
I spoke toward the two who stood staring at Meng Huo’s helmet.
“If you don’t want to watch your hostage die, surrender.”
I had no intention of actually killing Meng Huo, of course—but it was a line I had always wanted to try once. At those words Lady Zhurong and Meng Huaman, faces tight with fury and humiliation, cast down their weapons and yielded.