Yushugou Hefei Battle - 8
The spears tangled.
Rivals. Or more.
This man with the unusual helmet strap was strong.
“Ooooraaaah!!!”
Kaaang—!!!
His spearmanship was awe-inspiring. His breathing stayed perfectly steady, making his movements impossible to predict. His battle smarts were sharp too—he'd feint a low stab then swing wildly, or swing like he was stabbing, all unpredictable.
It was rare to meet someone at this level, so after a few exchanges, they exchanged polite salutes.
“Changshan's Zhao Zilong!”
“Zhang Liao, Wenyuan.”
They named their courtesy titles and clashed in earnest. Unlike the riffraff, this man had the true warrior's mindset.
Metal met metal, scattering raindrops.
The spears whistled silently through the wind. Soldiers ringed them.
Only their time flowed.
Zhao Yun swung—Zhang Liao blocked. Zhang Liao swung—Zhao Yun blocked.
From those simple thrusts, slashes, and cuts, you could sense their mastery. Perfect rivals.
Zhao Yun felt the man's spearmanship had reached the pinnacle.
If that was all, Zhao Yun wouldn't rate him so highly. It wasn't just battle IQ. It was the depth of experience.
Countless training days were forged into his strikes—not silent dummy drills, but silently cutting down people. Real combat training, spearmanship that survived countless battlefields. Facing that momentum was brutally tough.
Zhao Yun gradually fell back.
Chaeng! Chaeng! Chaeng—!
Zhao Yun went on the defensive.
Suddenly, Zhang Liao spun.
“Haaah!”
Shouting as he whirled, his spear tip grazed Zhao Yun's nape by a hair's breadth.
Zhao Yun couldn't even react. Zhang Liao's spearmanship seemed a cut above.
From the strikes, Zhao Yun read his intent.
Zhang Liao was hasty.
Zhao Yun gripped his spear long, solidifying his guard. Focusing every sense on that spear, he read the intent clear. For whatever reason, Zhang Liao was anxious—and it showed plain as day in his spear.
As Zhao Yun caught the emotional current, Zhang Liao's spearmanship grew clearer.
Feints that bent from stabs, slashes turning to thrusts—all born of impatience. Had to exploit it.
Suddenly, Zhang Liao lunged. Zhao Yun shortened his grip, closing distance in a flash.
“Urk.”
“Krat!”
Both tumbled from their horses, but the duel raged on.
They rolled into stances.
“The north gate's breached!!!!”
Someone bellowed.
Zhang Liao grew more frantic, impatience bleeding into his strikes.
Mud clung to their feet, hobbling legwork. Weight shifted wrong, dulling spear sharpness. Zhang Liao went all-out offense; Zhao Yun figured attackers had the disadvantage here and hunkered into defense.
Dismounted, first clash. Spears locked.
“All troops! Surround the cavalry! Sweep the enemy clean from the four gates!”
Zhuge Liang's voice rang out.
Second clash. Zhao Yun's tip sliced Zhang Liao's helmet strap. Zhang Liao dodged by a whisker, charging to close. Third clash. No proper exchange. Zhang Liao drew his sword.
They fought like demons. Zhang Liao closed in—Zhao Yun dropped his spear, yanked his dagger. Zhao Yun eyed the distance, gauging reach by outstretched hand.
Torrents blinded them. Both sputtered water.
“Bind him!”
Soldiers pressed with shields, slow and steady. Zhang Liao taken.
*
We won the battle, but it felt off.
Hefei's Wu suppressor, Zhang Liao, captured all too pathetically.
Against sheer numbers, superman or not, you're throwing up both hands.
Saw it live.
Shield-and-spear guys swarmed, smacked the sword away, shoved with shields, pressed in near-crushing, roped the neck, tripped him, pinned him—repeat till he was done.
“You guys, great work. For real.” Like they'd been mud-flat camping, every soldier caked in muck.
“Our army regroups for rest. Just heading home now.”
Soldiers' faces lit up.
“Battle rest! Battle rest!”
“Yes!!!”
The centurion bounded off pumped. Loves going home, huh.
My eyes shifted to Zhang Liao.
He's no match-fixer. Cavalry charge in this weather? Reckless gamble. Honestly, like smashing cavalry into a wall.
The Zhang Liao I know is the guerrilla god, popping up east sea, west sea with horse squads. Incompetent? Nah—he's got the chops to think up multiple escapes from this mess.
He picked the duel.
Zhuge Liang's Eight Gates were ironclad; his cavalry couldn't crack 'em.
Weather on our side. That summed up the fight.
Lost their commander, Hefei crumbled fast.
Dad stirred chaos inside Hefei walls, popping east gate then north one after; Gan Ning swiftly burst the north embankment, amping the flood.
Zhang Liao's force was unified; ours was my special 5k to Gan Ning plus 20k main.
Dilemma hit—he bet reverse on main army over the detach.
Su Jingjang cartel boss Meng Geon once told me on reverse bets: 'Born a real man? Gotta go reverse, it's righteous.'
Righteous my ass. This reverse bet's his ruin. I know folks who throw life for the greater good (Liu Bei prime example). That type?
“Just one question.”
Zhang Liao didn't twitch.
Three Kingdoms universe hero plopped right here—can't waste the shot.
Super curious.
“Can we chat?”
“……”
“Hefei's fallen. Got stuff to ask, just your words...”
“Kill me.”
Gasp.
I flailed gestures like not trolling, but he shut his eyes soft.
Seemed legit. Kneeling resolute, zero answers after.
Hates me, huh.
Me too, probably.
Whatever—unleashed question storm. Like that mood-blind naggy girl, full barrage.
“Why the crazy gamble? Mud pit, why cavalry? Hell, is Cao Cao even worth your life?”
Zhang Liao cracked his eyes quiet.
“Cut the word games. Kill me.”
Not games—genuinely curious.
“How you kill folks so casual?”
I get it. His words: capture enemy generals right. Felt his cavalry potential. Spare him, his horses'll mow us someday.
“Just one answer.” Still.
Curiosity for historical hero huge.
Wanna know. Why that choice? Nail the intent.
“One proposal.”
Medieval war had a famous rule: nobles don't kill nobles.
Late Han, rule's toast. But think efficient. Under him, should've had Wu Jin or such deputies, but wiped at Pak Mang, self-quarantine? Hefei was solo. Cao Cao trusts him to hold a city alone.
POW value sky-high. Efficiency nut here, wanna use you optimal.
That vibe:
“Answer straight, you live. Lie, you die.”
Eyes flashed.
“Bullshit. Toying me with wordplay?”
“Nah? Keep you, we'll eat threats later. But right now urgent—wanna use you.”
“Nothing to say. Kill.”
Hurt pride level firm.
Defeated yet chest-out—pisses me off.
30 iron plates on face wouldn't birth that aura.
“That 'kill if jealous' vibe sucks.” “That how you roll?”
My turn for spite.
You pull that, drag you, deal to Cao Cao.
“Our goal's defend Wu, not trash enemy turf. We'll use Hefei and you as pledge for clean exit from this hell. Gotta talk Cao Cao.”
Thought entry Hefei; now exit too.
If Cao Cao's really 500k+? Planned for 200k. Near 3x?
Total wipe city.
Retreat then... someone buys time. That's me.
“Heard all? Say something?”
“…”
Face darkened.
“For my lord, life's cheap. But can't be burden.”
“Then value your life...”
“Spit it out.”
“You say so, fine—no more talk. Anyway, I decided. POW—no vote. Got it?”
Won't talk anyway—sulked hard, head turn.
Under Lü Bu you surrendered... too loyal, swallowed it.