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The two armies faced each other. Fei Qian slowly reined in his horse and shouted loudly, "Our army first defeated the White Wave at Pingyang, then defeated the bandit army at Xiangling. Now, three of the four White Wave commanders are gone! Today, with their meager remaining forces, they dare resist our majestic imperial army! It is nothing but a mantis trying to stop a chariot, overestimating their strength! Gentlemen, follow me to pacify the White Wave, secure Hedong, and achieve merit and establish your careers—all begins today!"
As his voice fell, the soldiers on Fei Qian's side all grounded their spears and beat their sword-shields, roaring in unison, their momentum surging. Then, under the commands of their various platoon and squad leaders, they began advancing slowly forward.
At the very front of the entire battle formation were the swordsmen and shield-bearers. Their large rectangular shields, half a man's height, were flat on top and pointed at the bottom, allowing them to be driven into the earth to increase defensive strength when necessary. On the shields, lacquer outlined a demonic face. However, limited by the Han people's relatively impoverished imagination for horror, the paintings weren't particularly terrifying. But the key wasn't the pattern on the shields; it was the marching mode of the shield-bearers—three steps, one pause, with synchronized roars—exerting immense psychological pressure.
"Kill!"
The shield-bearers advanced three steps in unison, then slammed their shields down with a resounding thud, like a heavy hammer striking the heart.
"Forest!"
The spearmen and archers followed closely behind the shield-bearers. Behind the forest of cold-gleaming spearpoints were the archers, who already had arrows nocked on their bows, ready to draw and shoot at any moment.
"Rise!"
Seeing the troops behind had caught up, the shield-bearers beat their shields once with the back of their swords, then hefted their large shields and advanced again...
The entire White Wave camp was in turmoil. No matter how desperately the minor commanders shouted and encouraged, it was futile. Moreover, even these commanders themselves knew the situation was perilous.
This was combat on relatively flat, open ground with no advantageous terrain to exploit. The factors determining victory were drastically reduced to a direct comparison of combat prowess between the troops. Facing such an orderly, well-trained formation, even a fool could guess the fate of their own ragtag group of farmer-soldiers who had never undergone systematic training.
Yang Feng stared towards the Xiongnu camp to the northwest, his eyes practically straining. Relying on the camp's crude wooden walls, he could still put up a fight against Fei Qian's army from the north. But that was merely "put up a fight." Achieving victory would be harder than climbing to heaven. Their only hope was for the Xiongnu to charge out and disrupt Fei Qian's entire battle formation. Only then was there a chance for victory!
Although the Xiongnu had only joined the battle initially to chase off Ma Yue's forces and had been inactive since, and even yesterday were slow to respond to Ma Yue's harassment, there was still that sliver of hope. Yang Feng tightly gripped the sword in his hand, sweat beading unnoticed on his forehead.
Inside the Xiongnu camp, Yu Fuluo was completely oblivious to Yang Feng's eager anticipation. Facing the black-robed elder who had just regained consciousness and was now angrily jumping and cursing, he paid no heed.
Yu Fuluo had no interest in arguing with an old man. Of course, in most situations, he would end up losing the argument and getting confused instead—much like his several meetings and talks with Fei Qian, where he kept getting led by the nose. So, he simply shooed him away like a fly, ordering his Hu men to tie up the black-robed elder and his guards and toss them all into a tent...
Though Yu Fuluo often got tangled in words by Han people, including Fei Qian, he wasn't stupid at all. No amount of dazzling, dizzying vocabulary could withstand one blow from a scabbard. Since he couldn't win with words, he simply chose not to speak.
The original agreement was that within three days, if Fei Qian had the power to change the battlefield, Yu Fuluo would consider his stance. In the Hu people's view, the army was power. Whoever had the bigger army had greater say. It was that simple. Moreover, the troops Fei Qian brought now weren't just capable of altering the battlefield balance; this well-trained force could even stand a chance against Yu Fuluo's cavalry. So, what choice needed to be made? Was there any need to waste words babbling with a wretched old man?
Fei Qian's entire formation faced the White Wave camp, leaving his flanks exposed. If Yu Fuluo launched a sudden assault, Fei Qian, forced to change formation on the spot, would also suffer significant losses...
Yu Fuluo quietly watched Fei Qian's arrayed formation for a while, then suddenly smiled. He shouted loudly, "Exit the camp! Form ranks!"
The Hu men, with a slight tug on their horses' reins, simply threw a leg over and flipped onto the horse's back, sitting steadily in the saddle. They could simultaneously control their mounts and the distance from the rider ahead, avoiding crowding together.
The horses neighed as they rushed out of the Xiongnu camp in a noisy stream. Under Yu Fuluo's lead, they advanced slowly towards Fei Qian's formation.
Ma Yue and Xu Huang, commanding the cavalry, couldn't help but grow tense. They turned to look at the flags in the central command, both awaiting instructions from headquarters...
Meanwhile, Fei Qian, positioned in the central command, inwardly cursed. This Yu Fuluo had essentially thrown a multiple-choice question in his face: to defend or not to defend. A decision was needed now—
Over three thousand Hu cavalry was no joke. If they turned hostile and charged into the army formation, the consequences would be unimaginable. Even if he hastily redeployed his troops, he would suffer considerable losses. Under the combined attack of the Xiongnu and White Wave forces, defeat was a real possibility...
But if he took defensive measures, and Yu Fuluo was merely testing him, then their already fragile alliance would become even more brittle. In future cooperation to seize Shangjun, there would inevitably be much mutual suspicion and obstruction...
During the Han Dynasty, due to limitations in communication tools and the transmission of sound and flag signals, a formation midway through movement needing to change direction had to first halt. Then, under the guidance of lower-ranking officers, units would change formation in batches. It wasn't as simple as shouting "Left face!" and having everyone in the formation turn left simultaneously.
And once an order issued from central command was executed—whether the directional change was completed or not—if a contradictory order followed, the battle formation would immediately fall into chaos. This chaos would spread through the ranks. It was like seeing a line of soldiers marching neatly, then one suddenly falls, causing a chain reaction where they all tumble in a heap. Even unrelated onlookers would likely burst out laughing.
These were all issues Fei Qian had to consider. Simply put, it was like Fei Qian currently held only a few cards in his hand. Once played, they couldn't be taken back. And whatever decision he made, he would have to bear the resulting chain reaction...
What to do?
What choice to make now?
All eyes converged on Fei Qian...