Chapter 66: Clash of Mechanisms

The veteran general returned in defeat, but this came as no surprise to Lord Yan Chun.

“Now, it’s all up to the Grand General!” he declared, and with that, his war chariot retreated from the front lines.

The vice commander withdrew without hesitation, leaving Le Jian with no choice but to sigh in resignation. If they lost, it meant certain death for him; if they won, there’d be little reward.

“Forward chariots, advance!” he roared, his anger overcoming any concern for casualties. The Yan army needed to crush the Liaoxi forces swiftly—if the Northern King’s main force arrived, they would only be forced to retreat once more.

Battle flags waved and the war drums thundered.

The Yan army boasted nearly two thousand war chariots, and over a thousand surged forward in the vanguard. More than three hundred of these were specially modified ramming chariots, each with two iron spears, thicker than a man’s arm, fastened on either side, just beside the warhorses. The points of these spears extended two meters ahead of the horses’ heads—enough to impale even an elephant fatally.

“Kill! Kill!”

Each chariot was drawn by two warhorses and manned by three or four seasoned soldiers: one to drive, one wielding a halberd over three meters long, another bearing both a saber and a short javelin while wielding either a bow or a crossbow, and a shield bearer according to need.

The thundering advance of the chariots shook the earth—a display of might that light cavalry simply could not match, at the very least, raising clouds of dust in their wake.

As the chariots rolled forward, even the two wings of Hu cavalry—twenty thousand strong—grew tense, and the infantry from Liao could feel the very ground tremble beneath their feet.

“Shield battalions, fall back! Make way!”

Xuan Jian’s scalp prickled at the sight. Even a warrior of his caliber dared not meet the chariot’s iron spears head-on.

Well-drilled shield soldiers quickly dissolved their formation, opening twenty broad avenues several meters wide.

Steam hissed from the mechanical beasts, and the surrounding sword-and-shield men scattered further back. The warmth was oppressive—it was not the season for such heat.

As the chariots and mechanical beasts rumbled into motion, the heavy shield soldiers breathed more easily.

Over a thousand chariots charged forward, majestic and awe-inspiring, trailing great clouds of dust. At the same time, several Mohist White Tigers followed in their wake.

“If only we had deployed the chariots at the Battle of Liaodong, perhaps we wouldn’t have lost!” Qing Qin found himself thinking, though he dared not speak it aloud—for it was under his command that Liaodong had fallen.

“Crown Prince Jia, do you not find the old soldiers of Yan impressive?” Lord Yan Chun asked, a sly smile on his face.

Suppressing his distaste, Prince Jia nodded. “Indeed! Yan’s elite are no less than Zhao’s finest.”

The main force at Liaodong had only been Yan’s second-tier troops; these true veterans and royal guards were the real elite. Zhao Jia spoke honestly—had the King of Yan committed his best soldiers to the invasion, Zhao would not have triumphed so easily. Yet, since Yan had nearly destroyed Qi in the past, Yan and Qi had become mortal enemies.

Fortunately, pressure from the Zhao alliance kept Qi in check, allowing the King of Yan to disregard them for now. Both Yan and Zhao were lands of heroes; Yan was not weak, but its main force had been locked in stalemate with Qi, stifling its ambitions for expansion.

“It’s the mechanical beasts!”

“Clear the way! Make way!”

From afar, seeing the Mohist Black Tigers surge forward, the Yan charioteers knew better than to be reckless. Their chariots, though numerous, were largely made of wood—none wished to collide with those massive iron beasts.

The Mohist masters rode atop their White Tigers. The enigmatic Six-Fingered Black Hero, leader of the Mohists, stood atop a Vermilion Bird, commanding the action, unmoved by the winds.

With a piercing whistle, the Black Hero sounded the Mohist command signal.

At the sound, the White Tigers on the ground bounded forward at full speed, while two Vermilion Birds in the sky began to dive.

“It’s the Mohist Vermilion Birds! Qianqian, you take care of them!” Xuan Jian ordered, knowing that the Black Tigers and chariots could not easily target flying machines. He had no choice but to send his young wife.

“Yes, General,” Wei Qianqian, already prepared, moved the control lever.

With each step, her mech trembled, and the shield soldiers quickly scattered. It wasn’t that Wei Qianqian couldn’t control the machine, but she had to advance at speed while aiming skyward at the Vermilion Birds.

The Yan chariots, wisely, slowed to let the Mohists engage first.

“There are ten iron chariots, five Black Tigers, and two giants! How do they have so many mechanical monsters?” Master Ban frowned from the Vermilion Bird’s command pod. Could it be that this single camp’s machines outnumbered even the Mohists’?

The Black Hero’s face grew dark; he had no answer. There had only been a few before!

“This battle will not be so easily won, even for our leader!” another elder shouted.

But retreat was not an option—the roar of engines and grinding of gears grew ever louder. Facing fifteen mechanical monsters, even the Mohist disciples felt the pressure.

“Remember, the leader said their black monsters are clumsy—use our agility to topple them!” The White Tiger drivers quickly recalled their instructions.

It was less than a kilometer across—chariots could cross that in moments. But when they reached a few hundred meters, the steam chariots halted.

“Are they broken?” Qing Qin, commanding the chariots, was overjoyed. Perhaps these northern beasts were more show than substance.

The pneumatic cannon, with a seventy-millimeter bore, had an effective range of 1,500 meters, but was most accurate under 800. With a hiss and thunderous report, an armor-piercing round was fired.

A volley of explosions followed.

Hearing the blasts, Qing Qin ducked for cover in terror.

“At least they’re not shooting at us!” He thought of the devastation on the walls of Liaodong and regretted taking command in person.

“How can this be? Such power!” Master Ban shook his head in disbelief. Before they even closed, two White Tigers had already been disabled, and another, sturdy as it was, was nearly cleaved in two.

“We still have the Vermilion Birds’ fire bombs!” the Six-Fingered Black Hero gritted his teeth. Whatever the outcome, the Mohists would suffer heavy losses today.

The steam tanks had stopped, but the diving Vermilion Birds seemed more interested in the three-meter-tall Black Tigers and the giant mech.

“Good! Come closer if you dare!” Wei Qianqian locked the forehead cannon onto her target and slowed her pace.

“Haha, it’s as if that giant is watching us!” the left pilot of a Vermilion Bird laughed.

The right pilot was about to join in when a blast of white vapor and a flash of light streaked toward them.

The giant mech vented thick steam fore and aft, though the front was more diffuse.

“What—?” The pilot had no time to finish his cry before the front of the Vermilion Bird was engulfed in flame.

Normally, the Vermilion Bird could have withstood the blaze and landed to extinguish it, but several mixed oil bombs hung from its belly.

A spectacular fireball erupted in the sky, and even the mighty Vermilion Bird was torn apart.

The Six-Fingered Black Hero stared in dismay, quickly glancing at the remaining Vermilion Bird. The Black Tigers on the ground tried to dodge, but two were struck by falling fireballs.

The blazing inferno rolled two Black Tigers across the ground. Though not fatally damaged, they were ablaze, their armor wreathed in flame.

“Good! Excellent!” Master Ban shouted in relief.

“Damn!” Wei Qianqian cursed, accelerating toward the Black Tigers.

The three Vermilion Bird pilots were at first elated, but seeing their comrade’s fate, their joy evaporated.

“Climb! Climb higher!” At the sight of the giant closing in, the Vermilion Birds soared.

Boom—boom—

A shell fired every three seconds—bursts of smoke blossomed in the air, but the Vermilion Birds managed to evade.

“Leader, order the disciples to retreat!” an elder urged anxiously, suspecting the Six-Fingered lunatic was lost in thought.

The Six-Fingered Hero shook his head. “No need! They have already—”

Master Ban and the other elders looked down—only one White Tiger was still moving; the rest were in retreat.

The ten tanks fired a few more volleys, missing the nimble White Tiger but blasting over a hundred Yan chariots to splinters.

“What now?” Qing Qin felt a chill at his neck—caught between advance and retreat.

Defeat! So much for the famed Mohist mechanisms—not even a warning before fleeing!

Seeing a White Tiger fleeing in haste, Le Jian understood.

“Beat the drums! Sound the charge! All chariot units, forward! All forces, prepare to encircle and destroy!”

Le Jian roared in fury. There was no longer any choice—only a fight to the death remained. Fortunately, with so many chariots, perhaps they could yet overturn the tide.