Chapter 1565 – Decimating Nie Liang, Attacking Yang Tao, Sword Pointing to the World (Part One Hundred and Three)
“Pfft, still dreaming at death’s door.”
The jailer guarding Qiu Meng and the others sneered upon overhearing the conversation, turning away to mutter some curses under his breath.
Who in Jiang Pengji’s camp didn’t know that their Lord rarely threw people into prison, let alone capturing an entire family in one go?
If such a thing were to happen, it would mean the captured individuals had undoubtedly committed an inexcusable crime and were destined to enter standing up and leave horizontally.
The older jailer shot him a glare, “Keep your mouth shut! The General and the Military Adviser haven’t interrogated them yet; these folks are still suspects.”
The third jailer, unaware of the details, curiously inquired, “What crime did these people commit to get locked up here?”
“Who knows what they did wrong? The last ones tossed in here were from the Zhao family, traitors who betrayed the Lord, and this bunch is acting just like them.” The first jailer revealed a malicious grin and whispered, “Maybe they’re guilty of the same crime.”
Jailers often dealt with all sorts of criminals, spending their days lurking in dim, damp dungeons watching over prisoners. Over time, even mentally sound individuals would struggle with their sanity. To relieve pressure, many jailers developed a habit of gossiping incessantly.
“If that’s the case, doesn’t that mean they’re all going to…”
He made a hand gesture mimicking a throat-cutting motion, the meaning crystal clear.
“If they really are traitors, we can’t just let them be treated like guests and served food and drink, waiting for the New Year, can we?”
Around them were the sounds of prisoners wailing and pleading for mercy, effectively drowning out the jailers’ conversation. The Qiu father and son didn’t hear anything; they were too busy reassuring themselves that Yang Tao would win. As long as Yang Tao could fend off Fu Wang’s army, they would be the great heroes of the day.
Little did they know, Yang Tao’s army was equally stretched thin, on the verge of collapsing.
First off was Yan Lin’s side. Although Yang Si was a bait recommended by Feng Zhen, that bait wasn’t so easy to bite. All the warships were painted a pitch-black color, extremely stealthy under the cover of night, seeming to have emerged from the depths, enabling them to approach the enemy unexpectedly.
Yan Lin and his men lost the initiative, and by the time they realized what was happening, Yang Tao had already unleashed a flurry of attacks.
The vanguard ships were seized, crashed, and set ablaze; right from the start, the momentum was completely crushed by the troops led by Yang Si.
Even if Yan Lin moved swiftly to stabilize the situation, the surrounding thick fog became their biggest hindrance. Both sides struggled to distinguish friend from foe; even with unified horns or drums directing them, their own ships were all bunched together, colliding into each other.
Yang Si had the upper hand because linked with hemp ropes, the distance between their ships could be gauged by how taut or loose the ropes were. While they lacked the agility of individuals in combat, they wouldn’t have the blunder of friendly fire among their own ranks.
Under the bombardment of fire arrows, several enemy ships went up in flames, the towering fire illuminating the river like dazzling flowers.
The flames cut through the dense fog, casting a warm orange glow, resembling a lighthouse guiding the ships within the mist.
Yang Si grinned, “This battle feels so satisfying, all the pent-up frustration has finally dissipated.”
Not just Yang Si felt this way; Feng Zhen, who bore the blame for the previous battle’s failure, had an even clearer understanding of this exhilarating feeling that was hard to describe.
Did they really think that Yang Tao and the others deduced the food depot in Jingyang was due to the enemy’s cleverness?
Not at all; this was merely Feng Zhen’s meticulously crafted trap—a lure meant to attract the enemy.
With the enemy biting the bait, how could he let them off the hook?
Of course, he would strike while the iron was hot and ensure they were all taken down!
The enemy’s veteran generals clearly understood this as well. Given the lopsided forces between the two sides, breaking through was impossible.
They could only prepare themselves mentally for mutual destruction. Even if they were to die here, they intended to take a few souls with them!
The fire raged furiously, engulfing the entire Jingyang depot, the dusk painted an orange-red hue like an ink wash, vibrant and picturesque.
“Resolute resistance.”
Feng Zhen coldly observed the movements at the Jingyang depot; the enemies were evidently embracing the idea of going down in flames together.
He wasn’t a benevolent person either; if the enemy sought death, he would grant them that, ensuring they had no return!
“Wonder how General Fu is faring?”
While watching the enemy’s futile struggle, Feng Zhen finally had the time to worry about the real battlefield situation. If Fu Wang could win, Yang Tao would undoubtedly lose Zhanzhou and be forced to lead his remaining troops to retreat from Dongqing, which would mean the entire Dongqing would fall right into Jiang Pengji’s pocket. If Fu Wang lost, Yang Tao would also sustain serious damage.
Thinking a little further ahead, if they could capture Yang Tao in one fell swoop, that would be even more delightful.
Feng Zhen was envisioning a grand triumph, but reality seldom aligned with one’s dreams, and there were bound to be discrepancies.
Fu Wang’s troops pressed forward forcefully, and with the archers from the ships backing them up, they quickly established a foothold.
Now free from restraint, Fu Wang ordered an all-out assault.
One side’s soldiers were fierce and charged with fighting spirit, while the other’s morale plummeted, gradually widening the gap.
With the southeast wind to aid them, the fire spread rapidly, flames soaring high. Yang Tao’s water fortifications crumbled like a house of cards under the wrath of Qi Kuang’s navy. The fire surged on, turning the air scorching hot, the world ablaze, reminiscent of daylight.
Yang Tao killed several people in a row, his expression grave as if he could squeeze out water from it, filled with intense regret.
He realized now, whether the intel from the Qiu Clan was true or not, everything unfolded according to the enemy’s scheme, and they had walked straight into a trap.
In an attempt to intercept supplies, Yang Tao had sent Yan Lin and that old general away, leaving too few men to withstand the wolf-like enemy forces.
In the midst of chaos, Qian Su found his lord and urgently said, “Lord, please retreat immediately!”
Yang Tao ground his teeth, his jaws trembling slightly.
“How can we retreat at such a time?”
No sooner had he spoken than several enemies leaped out from who-knows-where, and Yang Tao swiftly severed their heads.
He stubbornly replied, “No need for more persuasion; I know what I should do.”
As the lord, Yang Tao had a team of elite guards for safety, but seeing how the battle ahead became more dire, he had sent them all to assist.
Qian Su insisted, “Your safety is the utmost priority, even if you don’t think of yourself, think of the Lady and the Young Master.”
Yang Tao retorted, “I’ve already sent someone to find the Lady; we’ll send her to Nan Sheng’s territory first. But here, we can’t afford to lose ground just yet.”
He wasn’t dense, but he simply couldn’t abandon so many soldiers to their deaths, becoming a coward in the process.
Even if he had to retreat, he would still lead the surviving soldiers to hold off the enemy’s advances, fighting while pulling back.
“I’m not afraid of death!”
Qian Su replied, “I’m not afraid either, but I’m afraid of you getting into trouble. If something happens to you, what’s the meaning of our fighting on?”
