Chapter Thirty-Five: Surrendering the Head

The dream of great fortune, just about to reach its climax, was rudely interrupted. Lin Qi was furious at first, but as he was about to vent his anger, he suddenly caught the words the soldier was shouting. In an instant, his rage was replaced by fear. “What did you say!”

“Look, my lord! We’re surrounded by Han troops!” A panicked soldier lifted the curtain of the carriage.

Peering outside, he saw torches raised high in every direction. Countless Han soldiers had already encircled their column. Ahead, his own men had barely managed to form ranks and were locked in a standoff with Han soldiers—each four or five heads tall, swords in hand, their eyes glowing in the dark. Behind, many of his soldiers seemed as if under a spell, struggling to even raise their weapons.

Not far off, several officers shouted and cursed, trying to rally the men around the wagons to form a defensive line. Yet many soldiers, terrified out of their wits, scattered in all directions like headless flies.

His force was like a mighty column struck by an irresistible blow, splintered into several parts, and now was being overwhelmed and destroyed section by section. Flames erupted in the rear—the wagons carrying grain and boats set alight by the enemy. The fire spread even to the roadside trees, tearing a jagged wound in the black canopy of night.

Countless shadowy figures dashed about, their shouts and screams mingling with the clash of weapons, the chaos swelling until it seemed to shake the heavens.

How did it come to this? Weren’t the Han troops supposed to be in the south, facing Wang Luo’s forces? Where had he gone?

As these thoughts flashed through his mind, a spear thrust toward him. The guard at Lin Qi’s side hastily raised his blade, clashing with the attacker. The next instant, Lin Qi felt a cold touch at his throat—and then knew nothing more.

Half an hour later, a Han soldier, drenched in blood, reported before Huangfu Song on the hillside. “General, we have annihilated the Yellow Turban rebels before us. Not a single one escaped! Their leader, Lin Qi, has been beheaded. We have over five hundred prisoners…”

“Kill them all!” Huangfu Song’s face was grim. “Such bandits are of no use alive. Kill them and throw the bodies in the river.”

The soldier took his orders and departed. Not long after, another urgent report arrived from afar.

“My lord! The Yellow Turbans are attacking our rear camp—we urgently request reinforcements!”

“What!” Huangfu Song leapt to his feet, astonished. “Such audacity! Generals, to me—we must hurry to the rescue!”

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Wang Luo stood atop a rise, pondering the missing pieces in his plan.

For some time now, the battlefield had been crawling with Contract Holders’ spies. It was nearly impossible to keep anything secret.

Yang Wentian had told him: such was always the nature of a battlefield; one must fight under these conditions.

Thus, the only way was to do the opposite—mix in a flood of confusing, half-true information. Wang Luo had even written down some of his ideas and plans, leaving them in his tent for others to “discover.”

Besides, only greed could truly blind the keenest eyes and make the cleverest people ignore lurking dangers.

All the scouts were Contract Holders themselves. If they stumbled on a chance for enormous profit, would they still care about their “scouting” duties?

So, create a major incident to draw their attention.

From the start, Wang Luo had recognized Lin Qi’s value. Later, Yang Wentian had told him that a high-ranking general’s head was the greatest treasure on the battlefield, required for many crucial missions—such as altering one’s bloodline or breaking through attribute limits.

That made it even more valuable—previously, it would only attract the Han army; now, it would draw in crowds of Contract Holders as well.

Of course, Lin Qi might be thinking the same about him. In the end, who used whom would depend on their respective ingenuity.

After the second battle with Huangfu Song’s Han troops, Wang Luo realized the Han army facing him was not truly elite, but rather a force better at defense than attack.

That fight had lasted until midday. Both sides were exhausted. The Han maintained their formation as they withdrew from the field, and Wang Luo’s forces were in no condition to pursue. It was then he made his assessment.

Annihilating them head-on would be difficult. But could he maneuver them, then strike at their weakest points?

He tried twice, but it was extremely hard. The Han’s positions were well chosen. It seemed only a significant shift, a psychological blow, could create an opportunity.

Like Yang Weili, he could use a superior who tried to flee as a decoy to attract the enemy’s attention, exploiting the gap to lead his men to safety. It might succeed, it might fail. But—could it be done even better?

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Rank had not dismounted from his Gundam. Shutting it down and restarting on the battlefield would consume almost as much energy as simply keeping it running. And if he were ambushed en route and needed to start up the Gundam, he’d be in real trouble…

Compared to previous scenarios, the adaptation suppression in this era of cold weapons was much stronger. The Gundam’s engine couldn’t even take flight, only hover slightly above the ground; the headlamps cast only a weak glow, barely brighter than a torch; its speed matched that of the marching Han soldiers, and in the last battle, its high-manganese steel armor had been damaged in several places by the Yellow Turban’s short swords and spears…

That previous battle was the most intense and exhilarating Rank had experienced since entering this scenario. Leading his subordinates in three Zaku units, they’d charged into the Yellow Turban lines, and with Dalbo’s Mass Weakness spell, had cut down over a hundred enemies. The spoils, aside from universal points and a few pieces of Yellow Turban gear, included the greatest prize: the “Head of the Yellow Turban Commander.”

A non-bound item, it could fetch three million in the auction house. Or it could be used directly—to unlock bloodline exchange, which would, for the first time, raise one’s attribute cap.

The head was now in Dalbo’s keeping. This made Rank uneasy. Though they had a cooperative agreement and contract, and continued collaboration would benefit both, he still felt uncomfortable.

So be it. The people from Wuzhou and Getini must be eyeing the head hungrily. Let Dalbo hold it—the danger would not be his.

---

“General, which way do we go?”

The Han column had halted. Huangfu Song, mounted, frowned in hesitation.

There were two roads ahead: the left was shorter but included steep stretches and a mountain valley—risky terrain; the right was smoother, but a long detour, adding four hours to the march back to camp.

No scouts had returned for some time. No news from the garrison left behind, nor from the main camp.

Previously, even if the scouts reported nothing, some soldiers would always bring back accurate information about the front. After several such instances, Huangfu Song had relaxed his requirements for the scouts. But now, for some reason, even those soldiers had fallen silent.

Huangfu Song considered for a moment.

The main camp was exposed—he could not afford much delay. Before departure, the scouts’ last report was that over six thousand Yellow Turban troops were attacking his main camp—their entire army. The Yellow Turban general had always acted with all his forces. This time, with their supplies exhausted, they were taking advantage of his diversion to launch a surprise attack on his rear. If they succeeded, they would seize all the supplies and provisions…

The Yellow Turban soldiers were weak—though numerous and now armored, they were still poorly trained. In previous encounters, even when they had the chance, they dared not attack, only held formation.

Ha! Such cowardice, nothing to fear! If they attempted a rear attack, they might not break through, but the battle would be hard-fought. Now, racing across distance to attack my main camp—they’re seeking their own destruction!

Clearly, the attacks on his scouts were only a small force sent to delay his return and enable the success of their surprise assault.

“We take the left path, full speed ahead!” After a brief pause, the commander of the Han army gave his order.