Beginning with the Ubume Bird

Chapter 86: Chapter 39 East-West Confrontation

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That night.

“Dong~ Dong~ Dong~”

The sonorous sounds of the watch drums echoed, Song Yi mounted his horse, the clashing of armor plates from the Great Ming cavalry behind him melded into a continuous din, long tassels hung from their helmets, deep red as blood.

Song Yi looked straight ahead, casually touching the armor on his abdomen. The gold-engraved Tiger Head Spear on his Desheng Hook slanted forward menacingly.

Raising both hands, he tied the red Great Banner to the Tiger Head Spear. This spear was an ancient relic, over three meters in length with a gilded tiger head at its tip, its maw clutching the blade, and “Siji” engraved at the base of its shaft, the entirety gleaming with the luster of white gold.

With a flick of the reins, he spurred his horse forward, galloping off with a surge of mounted soldiers closely following behind, making the black earth beneath them shudder.

The point of the teal iron spearhead was aimed directly at the howling Japanese Allied Forces.

…

The clanging sounds of battle and cries had ceased for some time, dozens of damaged Ming Army flank chariots lay scattered and tilted at the foot of the mountain. The battlefield fell silent, save for the flapping wings of crows with bloodshot eyes.

The looped and tied flank chariots on the slope were stained with blood, and the bamboo spikes and iron caltrops in the ditches were overwhelmed by corpses, the inquiries and spear gaps choked by blurred flesh and blood.

The Ming soldiers holding their spears leaned against the chariots with the pungent scent of blood for a make-do nap, relishing in the rare moments of rest.

“Splash splash splash~”

The water in the bronze basin churned, wafts of steam billowing up.

Luo Shangzhi sat on the ground with a thump, trembling as he removed his spattered cuirass, the slightest lift of his arms consuming immense effort. He pinched a piece of apricot-yellow talisman paper between his fingertips and gave it a flick.

The talisman paper rapidly disintegrated to ash, and Luo Shangzhi’s expression visibly brightened.

He gazed towards the enemy’s formation, a bitter smile on his face.

“How many charges have we made?”

“Five.”

The deputy next to him tossed his blood-soaked towel into the copper basin where the bloodstains rapidly spread. He answered, “Why not let General Wu Weizhong take over?”

“That old guy is too timid, he’s no good in a fight.”

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Luo Shangzhi grabbed a warm towel to wipe his face and seemed to remember something.

“What about the crew under that General Li’s command?”

“Don’t know, the Governor seems to have other plans for them, using all of the high-quality talismans from Heavenly Master Tao that Yi Gaogong sent on those men.”

The deputy spoke in a hushed tone, “I heard that General Li entered the Lord Governor’s tent, and it was more than half an hour before he came out. After that, no one knew what they were up to.”

“If he manages to break through, I’d actually be happy about it.”

Luo Shangzhi licked his lips, a look of worry in his eyes.

Most of the loop-tied flank chariots had been severely damaged, and the deer fences were almost completely destroyed.

Li Rusong had arranged the flank chariots into a war formation, turning field battle into a siege. The Allied Forces conducted several large-scale encirclements but could not penetrate the Ming chariot formation. Still, the Ming had lost over three thousand soldiers, and the cavalry, ever more critical for a breakthrough, were dwindling, making it increasingly difficult to counter the next assault.

The Allied Forces’ charge horn sounded once again, amongst a myriad of family banners, iron cavalry, musketeer squads, archers, and pikemen, layer upon layer. The Ashigaru generals Awazan Gangchang, Oda Hiroshi, and Dashin Nobuyasu all took to the field together, with Tachibana Muneshige leading the team—a few thousand from the Daimyo Allied Army pressed on.

“The battle chariot formation of Ming Country has nearly fallen apart. This will be our last charge!”

Tachibana Muneshige, holding a Hatsuyuki Samurai Sword, with a Mugamae Rib Stand Helmet on his head, wearing a dark blue Feather cloak, his eyes sharp, shouted loudly.

It is worth mentioning that this peer of Honda Tadakatsu, known as the unmatched warrior of the Western countries, was only twenty-five years old this year, the same age as Li Yan.

Watching as the Allied Forces surged forward once more, Luo Shangzhi gritted his teeth.

“An Qingguo, accompany me for one more charge.”

“Alright.”

The deputy An Qingguo nodded in agreement.

Suddenly, amidst the night, a blaze erupted, and the resounding booms of gunpowder explosions reached them, causing commotion at the rear of the Japanese pirates’ formation.

“The reinforcements led by Yang Yuan are here!”

Luo Shangzhi sprang to his feet, just as he unsheathed his long sword, the command from Li Rusong arrived.

“Everyone, break through!”

Tachibana Muneshige turned with a sudden start, his face dark yet not at all surprised. He turned, drawing the renowned blade Hatsuyuki, and shouted at the top of his lungs:

“Charge!”

As the two armies clashed, flesh and steel collided. Tachibana Muneshige plunged into the crowd, slashing all around him when a blade with a greenish edge hurtled toward him head-on!

…

In the spacious mountain path, Song Yi’s warhorse thundered beneath him, and before him lay a black cavalry defense line of the Japanese Allied Forces!

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The six foremost Sengoku cavalry generals brandished the heraldry of Hidetada on their backs, a paulownia-crested banner fixed firmly behind them. Foreheads were wrapped with white headbands, their eyes locked on the Ming cavalry, brimming with a tragic and furious intensity.

Inoue Kunie, Kuriyama Toshiyasu, Hidetada Kazunari, Hidetada Toshiaka, Rize, Naoyuki.

The renowned warlords of the Hidetada Eight Tigers had suffered, with two perishing in the rainy night clash against Li Yan’s forces and the Five Clan Coalition, one slain by Li Yan from horseback, another pierced through by the tongue of Jin Yanwa. The remaining six were all here.

Song Yi, silent, plucked the Gold-engraved Tiger Head Spear from his back while galloping, flipping his arm, pointing the spear tip directly at the oncoming iron tide.

“That man looks familiar to me.”

Perched high, Priest Nen Enman looked down at the torrential flow of the Great Ming’s iron cavalry weaving through the mountain pass, his gaze settling on the leader carrying a white-gold spear. Memories surfaced, his heart sinking abruptly.

He loudly inquired to Honda at his side.

“Lord Honda, has that Highness already taken to the field?”

“Yes,”

Honda Tadakatsu nodded, a smile appearing on his face: “When Ming Country’s Governor thinks reinforcements are near and prepares to emerge from his iron shell, he will have no inkling of the kind of demon gods he will face.”

“Is that so? What a pity.”

Priest Nen Enman’s expression darkened for a moment, but remembering the chance to slay the Ming Army’s Commissioner, he realized nothing was more important, sighing.

“Lord Honda, I fear he can only be taken down by you.”

“What is it, you know that leading Ming man?”

A jolt shot through Honda Tadakatsu’s heart.

“Glimpsed him from afar.”

Priest Nen Enman recalled the day when the Ming Army breached Pyongyang. He, as a monk intent on killing Yi Yu of the Heavenly Master Tao, had roamed the city and witnessed a scene that he could never forget—a seemingly endless tide of monstrous ghosts that even he, a professional exorcist, couldn’t withstand.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

Amidst the black tide, a nine-foot Great Banner furiously waved, and within that mass, a blood-splattered white-gold spear danced violently.

“Ha, I had thought that with such a grievous wound, even if he didn’t perish at the hands of those monsters, he’d be unable to partake in the ensuing battles. How relieved I was not to see this man on the Datong River. The likes of the Hidetada Eight Tigers stand no chance against him.”

The spear tip abruptly enlarged before his eyes, and Inoue Kunie’s body was sent flying backwards. The horse beneath him whinnied in anguish as Hidetada Toshiaka and Rize watched with bulging eyes, a streak of blood floating past them.

The remaining five tigers roared in fury, their sharp lances thrusting towards the Ming general clad in bronze, wearing a Devouring Blade shoulder piece. The blood-red plume swayed gracefully as blood speckled Song Yi’s cheek. He had slain a general first, his gaze remaining remarkably calm. His Tiger Head Great Spear swept horizontally, tracing a white-gold arc across Hidetada Toshiaka’s throat, flesh scattering as Toshiaka tumbled from his horse. Meanwhile, several lances remained at least a foot away from Song Yi.

Two iron streams clashed in the valley—one horizontal, one vertical. The teal and black horsemen intermingled in disarray, the Ming’s black dragon cavalry and the paulownia-crested banners dancing together.

Rize was both shocked and enraged. Any of these men would have been renowned generals amid the chaos of domestic war, let alone the Renchen War, where few could rival them. Six men joined forces, and even that highness from before may not go down without a fight.

Yet just one charge, merely the span of three or four breaths, resulted in two falling by the hand of this Ming figure.

Song Yi seemed blind to the deaths of these cavalry generals. His spear lunged forwards swiftly—his duty was to carve a path, these Japanese pirates were for the numerous following Ming soldiers to deal with.

“Release arrows!”

Someone roared the command, and a tidal wave of arrows splashed against him. Song Yi lifted his Tiger Head Great Spear, the thin red Great Banner upon it gathering up—impossibly, the arrows couldn’t penetrate!

Four tiger generals, infuriated by Song Yi’s disregard, spurred their horses forward. Song Yi’s shoulders shook. The white-gold Tiger Head Great Spear twirled among several long lances. A continuous clashing of weapons wove into a single thread, five long poles entangled, dazzling to the eye.

“Boom~”

Consecutive shattering sounds resonated—the fragments of broken arms flew, and under the astonished gaze of the cavalry generals, the Tiger Head Great Spear’s blossoms shook, four black blood flowers burst open one after another on the heads of the Hidetada tiger generals.

Song Yi’s legs gripped his horse’s belly, evading a lance that came slashing diagonally. His focus was now on the Japanese general in front of him, helmet adorned with deer antlers and a red demon mask,

and the peerlessly sharp cross spear.

Kachiten.

…

“It’s you!”

Tachibana Muneshige’s tone was filled with shock and anger.

On the battlefield where swords, bows, and gunpowder flew, two riders faced each other.

Li Yan, clad in mountain-patterned armor, seemed unfazed by his injuries as he rode, his helmet’s fringe fluttering.

“Where are those monsters of yours?”

Tachibana Muneshige sneered coldly.

“#￥%*@&?”

Li Yan disregarded him, facing the sword named Hatsuyuki Samurai Sword. His own sword was drawn horizontally.

The blade shimmered green, buzzing softly.

Li Rusong’s sword, named Biyuan.

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