Volume Two: The Battle of Hulao Pass Chapter Fifty-Three: A Bloody Struggle!

Tang soldier Liu Erhei was only in his early twenties this year, yet he was already a seasoned veteran through and through. He had served as Li Shimin’s personal guard, fighting his way through the defeat of Western Qin, the destruction of Liu Wuzhou, and the battle against Wang Shichong—indeed, he was a man who had been through countless campaigns.

Bold and fearless, he charged headlong into battle and always sought the forefront, personally slaying more than ten enemies, yet miraculously escaping without a scratch. His comrades both envied and teased him, nicknaming him “Lucky Dog Liu” for his uncanny fortune.

But today, “Lucky Dog Liu” had run out of luck.

During the charge, his calf was pierced by a sharp arrow—an unlucky strike. Yet mounted on his horse, he pressed forward, ignoring the pain, and when he collided with the Xia cavalry, he managed to stab three of them to death.

The Xia army received reinforcements and, surrounded on all sides, the pace of their charge slowed. Gradually, Liu Erhei became isolated, his horse struggling under him, snorting heavily and foaming at the mouth.

Once on the battlefield, those who feared death died all the sooner, while those who gave their lives little thought often survived to the end. Liu Erhei had learned this lesson through many campaigns. Having chosen the life of a soldier, his fate was no longer his own.

Though he cared for his horse, there was nothing he could do now. Unable to break through, trapped in a deadly encirclement—he would die! Liu Erhei squeezed his horse’s flanks hard and shouted, “Go!”

His horse, Three Black, long since reduced from a gallop to a tottering gait, summoned the last of its strength at its master’s command, let out a wild neigh, and charged forward several dozen yards. Liu Erhei, using the momentum, aimed his spear and thrust it fiercely at a Xia cavalryman.

After repeated charges and kills, the wooden shaft of his spear finally gave way, snapping with a crack. Though he slew his foe, Liu Erhei’s spear was now broken.

Disaster followed disaster. Three Black staggered a few more steps and suddenly collapsed to the ground, blood gushing from its nostrils and mouth. With a mournful cry, it lay still, its breath weakening—it had died of exhaustion!

Caught unawares, Liu Erhei was thrown down, his injured calf pinned beneath the heavy carcass of his horse, unable to break free.

At that moment, two Xia cavalrymen spotted him, seeing he had no strength left to resist. With sinister laughter, they urged their horses closer.

Knowing escape was impossible, Liu Erhei accepted his fate with an open heart. As the two Xia cavalrymen approached, he resolved to drag at least one with him in death.

One Xia cavalryman rode up, raised his spear, and stabbed at Liu Erhei’s side. His calf was pinned under the thousand-pound corpse, impossible to escape. The spear struck his vulnerable side, but his heavy armor saved him, and the wound was shallow. The other Xia soldier, seeing the first had failed to kill him, raised his spear and stabbed at Liu Erhei’s other side.

Liu Erhei wanted to emulate the hero Guan Yu from the old tales, laughing through pain as he scraped poison from his bone—but the agony was too much. He could not help but scream and curse.

“You sons of bitches!” Liu Erhei cursed, his mind racing for a way to drag the two Xia soldiers off their mounts.

Two spears lunged at his abdomen; Liu Erhei seized the spearheads, holding them tight. Summoning all his strength, he twisted his body, pressing the spears beneath him. His calf gave a sickening crack, broken at the knee and bent at an unnatural angle.

The pain made Liu Erhei shudder all over, sweat pouring from his brow in large drops.

The two Xia soldiers cried out in surprise, not expecting him to have strength left to seize their spears, nor that he would break his own leg for the sake of it. This man was truly ruthless.

They leapt from their horses, drew broadswords from their waists, and attacked from either side, plunging their blades into his abdomen with all their might.

The blades scraped against the iron armor, making a strange, piercing sound and sending sparks flying.

With his abdomen gravely wounded, Liu Erhei screamed again, black blood pouring from his throat. His broken leg had nearly made him faint from pain; now, the swords in his belly made him painfully lucid.

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The two Xia soldiers pressed their broadswords deeper, Liu Erhei gripping the blades, his hands sliced and bloody, refusing to let them go any further. Using his body as a battlefield, they wrestled for dominance, locked in a stalemate.

Just then, the sound of battle erupted behind him—a booming voice shouted, “Xia scoundrels, cease your arrogance! Your Grandpa Cheng is here!”

With the roar, a burly Tang general in black armor on a red horse charged in with several hundred men—it was Cheng Yaojin, leading the second wave of the Black Armor Army!

Hearing the Tang army arrive, Liu Erhei let go, allowing the two broadswords to pierce him through.

The two Xia soldiers, locked in struggle, did not expect Liu Erhei to suddenly release his grip. They lost their balance and toppled forward, heads down toward him.

Liu Erhei wrapped his arms around the two soldiers, laughing wildly, “Brats! You’re coming with me!”

Held tight and half-fallen, the Xia soldiers were terrified, struggling desperately. But Liu Erhei, in his final burst of strength, clung to them with all he had.

Cheng Yaojin arrived in a flash, his eyes blazing at the sight. With a shake and thrust of his lance, he slit the throats of both Xia soldiers; one blow struck the neck, another pierced the throat—both died instantly.

Cheng Yaojin looked at Liu Erhei, pierced through by two swords, knowing his life was spent and could not be saved. He praised, “A true hero! A blooded son of Tang! You have not shamed the Black Armor Army’s name!”

Liu Erhei chuckled, vomiting black blood mixed with bits of his innards. Seeing the Tang army scatter the Xia troops, he felt a surge of satisfaction.

His body grew cold, his vision dim. With the last of his strength, he shouted, “Black Armor Cavalry! Invincible with me!” And so he died.

Li Shimin’s elite Black Armor Cavalry numbered a thousand. A hundred had been entrusted to his brother Xuanba, leaving nine hundred. Qin Qiong led three hundred fully armored cavalry as the spearhead, Cheng Yaojin led three hundred as the second wave, and Li Shimin, guarded by Yuchi Gong, personally led the remaining three hundred. They attacked in waves, advancing layer upon layer, maintaining relentless momentum—the very tactics that future generations would call “blitzkrieg.”

Qin Qiong’s three hundred men charged through the archers, three thousand Xia cavalry blocked by reinforcements, their steeds tiring, and they became surrounded by the Xia army.

At this critical moment, Cheng Yaojin’s second wave arrived, seeing their brothers slain in droves, a fire of rage burning in every heart.

Three hundred formed a spearhead formation, Cheng Yaojin at the front, charging directly toward the surrounded Qin Qiong.

Though Qin Qiong was unmatched in valor, even he was nearing exhaustion; his arms ached, his breath ragged, and his hands shook as he gripped his lance.

His double-layered iron scale armor, battered by the Xia soldiers’ relentless attacks, had lost many scales. Yet, being well-made, it still provided protection. Though wounded many times, none were fatal.

Qin Qiong thrust his lance, killing another Xia cavalryman. Pulling the weapon free, he surveyed the battlefield—Xia soldiers still poured in, and by rough estimate, several thousand remained.

Behind him, the Black Armor heavy cavalry dwindled—horses fell from exhaustion, fewer than a hundred men remained.

Qin Qiong sighed, feeling a chill in his heart, ready to die on the field, wrapped in his horse’s hide.

At that moment, a squad of Black Armor Tang soldiers broke through the Xia encirclement—Cheng Yaojin had arrived.

Cheng Yaojin led the charge, his lance slicing through several Xia soldiers in moments.

Wiping blood from his face, Cheng Yaojin asked, “Second Brother Qin, are you well? Do you have strength left to fight?”

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Seeing reinforcements arrive, Qin Qiong’s spirits soared, as if endless strength returned. He replied, “Of course! Slaying another hundred or eighty Xia soldiers is nothing!”

“I’ll clear the way, you follow!” Cheng Yaojin said, wasting no words. Lance in hand, he led his three hundred fresh troops, aiming for Dou Jiande’s royal banner, charging forth. Qin Qiong, with only seventy or eighty Black Armor heavy cavalry remaining, mustered their last strength and followed.

The Black Armor Army was elite, further honed by Li Mingyu and his disciple after months of training—their morale and cohesion greater than ever.

Each fought fiercely, fearless as tigers descending the mountain, as dragons surging from the sea.

By contrast, the Xia army’s morale had been battered by repeated defeats. Though these Xia cavalry were Dou Jiande’s most seasoned, well-trained troops and did not rout on the spot, their lack of spirit greatly weakened their fighting power—a fact undeniable. Facing the fearless Tang soldiers, they lacked the courage to fight to the death, to exchange life for life.

On the battlefield, it is all about momentum! When two paths cross, the brave win! Tang army morale soared, each man fighting as ten!

Two thousand Xia soldiers could not withstand the onslaught, scattered in moments.

Dou Jiande stood beneath his royal banner, witnessing all clearly, shocked at Li Shimin’s Black Armor Army’s prowess.

To be fair, the Black Armor Army deserved the title “the elite under heaven”—a few hundred could break ten times their number, and facing a hundred times their foes, knowing victory impossible, they still had the courage to charge, to die for nothing! Who knew how Li Shimin trained such a band of wolves and tigers?

Admiration aside, Dou Jiande, ever the warlord, would show no mercy to the Tang army. For him, the best enemy was a dead enemy.

Dou Jiande waved his hand, instructing his trusted general, “Wang Cong! I’ll give you five thousand more elite soldiers—destroy this Tang force completely!”

“Yes!” Wang Cong saluted from horseback, straightened his armor, assembled five thousand troops, and charged at the Tang army.

Cheng Yaojin led the Black Armor Army through the Xia cavalry, raising his head to see Dou Jiande sending reinforcements.

Five thousand cavalry thundered forth, raising a dust cloud that darkened the sky.

“Damn it! Endless enemy soldiers! Endless fools rushing to die!” Cheng Yaojin cursed furiously, yet there was nothing he could do.

Dou Jiande’s forces were truly vast. Setting aside the shattered left wing, the archers, the entangled vanguard, and the yet-unarrived right wing, his central force alone had tens of thousands. Even with five thousand more dispatched, Dou Jiande still held over ten thousand elite cavalry in reserve, watching and waiting.

Li Shimin, guarded by Yuchi Gong, now arrived with the last three hundred Black Armor soldiers. The three Tang forces joined, Yuchi Gong at the forefront, Li Shimin in the center, Cheng Yaojin and Qin Qiong on the flanks, charging straight at the incoming five thousand Xia soldiers.

Yuchi Gong rode at the front, swift as thunder, his lance flashing like lightning, slaying several men in an instant. His fierce eyes wide, his roar booming, “Those who block me die!”

Li Shimin, clad in dazzling golden armor, stood out among the ranks. Bow in hand, his arrows flew in rapid succession, each one taking a life. He shouted, “Prince Qin Li Shimin is here! Dou Jiande, do you dare battle me?”

Hundreds of Black Armor soldiers followed, echoing loudly, “Dou Jiande, do you dare battle me?”

At this moment, with their commander on the field, slaying enemies left and right, Tang army morale soared. They slaughtered their way through, plunging deep into the ranks of the five thousand Xia elite cavalry.