Chapter Fifteen: Two Armies Confront Each Other, Soldiers Await the Signal

The soldiers who had been cleaning the battlefield, upon hearing the blast of the horn, quickly withdrew from their positions and rushed back into formation. During this process, the faint sound of hoofbeats from before had already swelled into a thunderous roar, making the very ground of the valley tremble. The scale of this force was far greater than the few hundred cavalry that had come before.

Even before the Xiongnu cavalry appeared at the bend in the mountain pass, Li Guang had already issued his orders. With a wave of the signal flags, messengers raced along both flanks of the formation. The assembled Han troops immediately began to move in orderly haste, their line breaking and spreading into a semicircle. The chariot troops formed the front, war chariots leading the way; light infantry occupied the center, heavy infantry followed close behind, and the cavalry split into two wings, moving to the rear flanks of the semicircle. By the time the Xiongnu cavalry arrived, a standard defensive formation had barely managed to take shape.

As the earth shook and the deafening thunder of hooves drew nearer, the Xiongnu cavalry finally came into view, emerging from the bend in the pass. Their wild howls echoed—long and fierce—again and again. The Xiongnu never forgot to let out their wolf-like cries during a charge. Undeniably, this bolstered their own morale and struck fear into their enemies, all the more so when their numbers had swelled to over four thousand. From the bend in the road, wave after wave of Xiongnu riders spilled forth at breakneck speed. Raised in the harsh northern lands, these men were living proof of the old saying: “Out of barren mountains and wild waters come hardened men.” Every Xiongnu cavalryman exuded a fierce and untamable air, and the seemingly endless line of riders pouring from the pass was a sight of true visual shock.

Three hundred paces from the pass, the Han soldiers stood in formation, their hearts pounding in time with the approaching hoofbeats. It wasn’t that they didn’t want to block the pass; they simply hadn’t had time to do so. Even now, some soldiers were still running to their positions within the great Han battle array.

At the very front, the chariot soldiers struggled to steady their breath and heartbeat, for it was impossible not to feel anxious when facing the oncoming flood of Xiongnu cavalry. Their hands, gripping reins and weapons, were slick with sweat. Most of them had only ever trained on drill fields before; Han policy in the previous dynasty had meant few had truly faced death in battle.

Now, the opportunity had come.

But heaven knew, it was not a good one. The enemy cavalry numbered more than four thousand, charging with vengeance for their fallen comrades. Everything about this confrontation had been calculated.

The Han soldiers stared deathly at the Xiongnu cavalry, feeling as if those hooves were not pounding the earth, but trampling their very hearts.

Behind the chariot troops, a thousand light infantry—archers—knelt with arrows planted in the ground, ready to draw. Many of them trembled slightly, but rigorous training had drilled into them exactly what to do.

At last, driven forward by clouds of dust, the Xiongnu cavalry advanced to within one hundred and fifty paces of the chariot line.

With a sharp ring, the captains of the light infantry and chariot troops drew their swords in unison, raising them skyward.

A thousand archers drew their bows, iron-tipped arrows aimed skyward over the Xiongnu horsemen. Sunlight glistened on the sweat upon their faces.

The Xiongnu cavalry pressed closer, now only a hundred paces away.

“Loose!” shouted the captain, slashing his sword forward.

With a thunderous sound, a thousand arrows soared, tearing the air apart as if death itself had rushed into the Xiongnu ranks.

“Charge!” Almost simultaneously, the chariot captain gave the order, his blade sweeping forward.

“Hyah! Hyah!” The charioteers lashed their reins against the horses’ backs, sending the war chariots surging forward, horses screaming.

Before the charioteers, the leading ranks of Xiongnu cavalry were thrown into chaos—men and horses tumbling. This was the effect of the first volley.

“Kill!” The chariot soldiers, emboldened by the sight, roared as they charged into the Xiongnu ranks. On the chariots, the soldiers gripped their long halberds, poised in familiar killing stances.

With a chorus of shouts, the heavy infantry emerged from the gaps between the light infantry, rushing to the front. They raised their shields and leveled their halberds—sharp blades protruding like the quills of a hedgehog, all aimed at the Xiongnu cavalry.

Qin Cheng, standing among the heavy infantry, gripped his halberd with a grave expression. His view was blocked by the tall shields, so he couldn’t see the battle ahead; like every heavy infantryman, he slowed his breathing and listened intently.

The sounds of battle—hoofbeats, shouts, screams, the clash of weapons—all filtered into Qin Cheng’s ears.

“Loose!” came the command from behind. Another volley, and without doubt, a heartbeat later there would be more chaos in the Xiongnu ranks.

The noise ahead grew wild and chaotic; even without seeing, Qin Cheng knew that the chariot troops had engaged the enemy.

At this point, the light infantry could no longer fire volleys, lest they hit their own men. Their task, however, was far from over.

“Daliang, what do we do now?” Qin Cheng shouted to Wu Daliang beside him. He could see nothing and didn’t want to be caught unprepared, so he asked for advice—a last-minute effort to learn.

“Wait!” Wu Daliang replied, having to shout to be heard over the din.

“And then?” Qin Cheng pressed.

“Kill the enemy!” came the curt reply.

“Damn it!” Qin Cheng wanted to kick him. Frustrated, he cursed instinctively. “Can’t you be more specific?”

“With your halberd and sword—kill them!” Wu Daliang bellowed.

“Damn you!” Now truly enraged, Qin Cheng cursed again. This was a real ancient battlefield, far more dangerous than street brawls—against cavalry, no less, while he was just an infantryman. And here was this old soldier, full of tricks, treating it like a guessing game. “Wu Daliang, when this is over, I’ll skin you alive!”

“What? I can’t hear you!” Wu Daliang shouted, then added suddenly, “They’re coming—get ready!”

As Wu Daliang finished, Qin Cheng felt an iron arrow whiz past his ear. He turned to see a fellow soldier behind him struck in the head, eyes bulging in death, collapsing to the ground.

Qin Cheng sucked in a cold breath and crouched even lower.

He knew at once—these were Xiongnu cavalry who had bypassed the chariot line and were now loosing arrows into the heavy infantry formation.

On a real battlefield, no cavalry would charge headlong into a wall of shields bristling with halberds; that would be suicide. When no other options remained, the Xiongnu cavalry would ride around the shield wall, firing arrows inward until arrows or men were spent—whichever came first.

At this point, the Han archers behind the heavy infantry could no longer fire in volleys, as their own chariot troops were in the way. But that did not mean the Han must simply await death.

“Heavy infantry, advance!” ordered the captain, drawing his sword and giving the command.

Qin Cheng breathed a little easier. Anything was better than crouching in place, waiting to die.

At the same time, the kneeling archers rose at their captain’s order, aiming at the Xiongnu cavalry outside the shield wall and returning fire.

Arrows flew back and forth; Xiongnu cavalrymen fell, and so did Han soldiers. Blood blossomed, life faded.

There were not many Xiongnu cavalry outside the shield wall now, for the chariots’ main purpose was to hinder and slow their advance. The first wave that broke through was soon shot down by the archers within the formation.

But as the first wave was annihilated, a second and third wave of Xiongnu broke through the chariot line and charged.

“Keep advancing!” shouted the heavy infantry captain. The entire Han formation became like a machine, moving forward at a steady pace behind the shield wall.

The archers’ iron arrows, like bullets from a machine gun, rained down upon any Xiongnu cavalry appearing outside the shields.

Both sides suffered losses.

But the Han had a thousand archers, while the surviving Xiongnu cavalry who broke through never numbered more than a few hundred at a time. Thus, they could only be whittled down, bit by bit, by the professional Han archers.

Even so, losses among the Han archers were not insignificant.

Qin Cheng advanced behind the heavy infantry, observing the battle on both sides of the shield wall—not just to gauge the situation, but also to dodge arrows.

But it wasn’t all one-sided; as the heavy infantry pressed forward, sometimes a few Xiongnu cavalry—unable or unwilling to retreat, or driven mad with bloodlust—would rush the shield wall and be cut down by Qin Cheng and his comrades.

He had no idea how long they had advanced. In the chaos of battle, Qin Cheng had lost all sense of time. Soon, just a few paces ahead, the first wrecked chariot came into view. Now, the moment for the heavy infantry’s real test had arrived.

“Drop shields!”

“Attack!”

With these commands, the shield wall, its purpose fulfilled, was lowered, and the heavy infantry surged forward, halberds in hand, bursting from behind the shields into the fray.