Chapter 319 Reserved

Chapter 319: Subtlety

"Wooo—woooom—!" A deep and desolate horn sound suddenly came from beyond the city wall, instantly tearing through the night sky.

The sound of horse hooves rolled across the ground like summer thunder, faint at first, then deafening in an instant.

Even the city wall beneath their feet seemed to tremble slightly—the enemy was at the gates!

"Stand ready—!"

"Archers—prepare!"

On the city wall, officers' hoarse shouts rang out one after another, instantly suppressing all other noise.

The sound of soldiers running and taking positions, the creaking of bowstrings being drawn, the dull rolling of boulders and logs being moved...

Zhao Cheng looked up toward the northeast, where in the distant darkness, torches formed a sea of leaping light, pressing toward the city wall at tremendous speed.

Zhao Cheng stood, hand resting on his blade, gazing toward the sea of fire pressing in from the northeast.

Just then, from the front of the Northern Di army, two riders broke from the ranks.

The one in the lead was none other than Wu'erhan—clad in dark iron armor with a wolf-fur cloak over his shoulders.

His braided hair and golden rings gleamed harshly in the torchlight, and the scar at the tail of his brow made his already fierce features even more menacing.

Half a horse's length behind him, Wuliji sat like a silent mountain, his plain leather armor couldn't hide the knotted muscles underneath.

A pair of massive black war hammers hung from his saddle, one on each side, their heads bearing faint dark red stains.

Wu'erhan spurred his horse forward, pointing his battle-axe at the city wall, and launched into the classic pre-battle trash-talk.

"Zhao Cheng! I'll fuck your ancestors eight generations deep! Hiding in the city like a dickless eunuch?

Get the hell out here and let your grandpa chop off your dog head to use as a piss pot! Did you have to lick Cui Ji's boots to get this garrison commander gig?

Are the spineless cowards under you just hiding in women's skirts? Hahaha!"

Such crude and vile abuse had every Cui family soldier on the wall glaring with fury, all eyes turning to their number-one trash-talker, Zhao Cheng.

Rage churned in Zhao Cheng's chest. He took a deep breath, ready to let loose: "Wu'erhan! I'll fuck your..."

But just as the words left his mouth, he caught a glimpse of Cheng Ge standing quietly nearby.

He stopped mid-sentence—all the profanity he'd prepared died in his throat.

He'd almost forgotten the general's wife was right there!

Given the general's rank, his wife had to be a refined lady from a good family—how could she have ever heard such filth?

If he cursed back in front of her, wouldn't that be rude and disrespectful, and damage the general's reputation?

That thought hit him like a bucket of ice water. Zhao Cheng choked the vulgar words back down, his cheek muscles twitching from the effort.

After a long pause, he ground out through clenched teeth: "Wu'erhan! You barbarians really don't know a thing about civilization—you just bark like wild dogs!

I can't be bothered with your petty yapping! If you've got the balls, bring that axe of yours and try it against the walls of our Great Zhou!"

Everyone: "???"

Both on the wall and below the wall fell silent. The Cui family soldiers exchanged confused looks, and even the enemy seemed taken aback.

What the... what's gotten into General Zhao? Did he drink some bad booze? That's all he's got?

Even Cheng Ge couldn't help but shoot Zhao Cheng a sideways glance, thinking the Great Zhou really was a land of civility—even battlefield trash-talk was so... refined and subtle?

If it were him, he wouldn't stop until he'd cursed out all eighteen generations of the enemy's ancestors—anything less would be an insult to the family tree.

Zhao Cheng himself felt suffocated by such a weak response. He gritted his molars.

He told himself to let that barbarian have his moment—he'd pay it back with interest later!

Wu'erhan was caught off guard by Zhao Cheng's dismissive reply. The lines he'd rehearsed all night suddenly had nowhere to go.

A knot of frustration settled in his chest. He opened his mouth to curse again: "Zhao Cheng, you motherf—"

"Loose arrows!" Zhao Cheng gave him no chance to speak again!

That command cracked like thunder, cutting Wu'erhan's abuse off mid-sentence.

The archers on the wall, already poised and ready, sprang into action!

"Swish! Swish! Swish!" A hair-raising burst of bowstring twangs and arrows slicing through air exploded!

Countless black arrows rained down, blanketing the Northern Di army below in a deadly torrent.

"Raise shields!" Wuliji's half-closed eyes snapped wide open, his right black hammer rising slightly.

Almost simultaneously, the massive ox-hide war drum on the wall boomed, its deep notes surging in waves.

"Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom—!"

Arrows from both sides crossed in midair first, shrieking as they blanketed the charging Northern Di infantry in black masses.

The clatter of arrowheads on leather shields and iron armor was unending, mixed with the wet thud of blades hitting flesh and the agonized screams of the wounded.

Northern Di soldiers kept collapsing mid-charge, their torches falling and getting instantly trampled out by the surging tide behind them.

But the Northern Di troops pressed on under their shields, roaring wildly, flooding toward the base of the wall without regard for casualties.

Dozens of scaling ladders were hefted by burly men chanting in unison, slammed onto the battlements in the gaps between arrow volleys.

"Boulders! Logs!" Zhao Cheng's voice cut through the din, calm but tense.

"Crash—!" Massive stones and logs that took two men to wrap their arms around were shoved down by the defenders.

They smashed into the dense enemy ranks below, producing a sickening chorus of cracking bones.

Blood and brains splattered instantly, staining the cold bricks and the ground.

Boiling "golden juice" was ladled out of special cauldrons with long-handled iron spoons.

Trailing pungent yellow-green smoke, it was poured straight down onto the Northern Di soldiers climbing the ladders.

An indescribable stench spread instantly, along with the sizzle of flesh being scalded—like being dropped into hell itself.

Both sides' war drums kept pounding frantically, and the battlements had devolved into the most brutal close-quarters combat.

Fierce Northern Di soldiers kept climbing over the parapet under their shields, only to get run through by multiple spears from the defenders, screaming as they tumbled back down.

Boulders and logs kept raining down without pause, but the Northern Di soldiers surged forward like an endless tide, wave after wave.

The two sides were at a stalemate, and a cruel glint flashed in Urkhan's eyes below the city walls. "Bring me my bow!"

A Northern Di soldier swiftly handed a massive iron bow to Urkhan.

He took the bow, casually nocking a heavy, carved-feather arrow onto the string.

Raising his gaze, he looked past the chaotic battlefield, locking onto the top of the gate tower with a hawk's piercing gaze, a hint of arrogance in his eyes.

Urkhan's muscles tensed in an instant, the muscles in his arm bulging as he gripped the bow and drew the string, slowly drawing the iron bow to full bend.

The bowstring let out a grating creak until it bent into a perfect crescent.

Time seemed to freeze in that moment, the deafening battle cries around him faded away.

The next instant, his three fingers gripping the string suddenly released!

"Twang—!" The bowstring snapped, and the heavy arrow ripped through the stifling night, hurtling toward the gate tower with a piercing whistle.