The Bad Girl's Quick Transmigration System: Traveling Back and Forth

Chapter 825 A Lonely City in Peril: The Steadfast Stand Under the Setting Sun (Page 12)

Part 1: Night Raid

General Liu gazed at the pitch-black night outside the city, a sharp glint flashing in his eyes: "Good! We have done our utmost. Now, let those invading enemies taste our might!"

His voice wasn't loud, yet it carried a resounding, metallic force, piercing the silence of the city walls and reaching the ears of every soldier beside him. Ma San tightened his grip on the gleaming ring-pommel sword, its hilt slippery with sweat. He was an ordinary soldier from Ma Family Village, Shili Slope, ten miles outside the city. Three months ago, when the Tatars first raided the border, his village was gone, his parents were gone, leaving him only with this sword, the flame of revenge in his heart, and the simple thought of defending his homeland. Now, listening to General Liu's words, his legs, which had been trembling with tension, miraculously steadied.

The starlight was dim, the moonlight was dim, as if the entire sky were shrouded in a huge black cloth. Only the torches lined up on the city wall, like a burning fire dragon, leaped and flickered in the silent night, illuminating the soldiers' resolute faces in shifting light. Most of them, like Ma San, were ordinary people who had taken up arms and stood on these cold city walls to protect their homes.

This city, named "Jing'an," meaning to stabilize the border and defend against foreign invasion, is small in size, yet it serves as a crucial barrier for the imperial court on the northwestern frontier. The city walls, not particularly high, bear the marks of time, weathered by wind and rain, adding to their desolate and weighty appearance. At this moment, it resembles a silent behemoth, crouching in the darkness, awaiting the impending battle.

General Liu, whose given name was Yuan, rose through the ranks from a common soldier to the position of general, relying not on family background, but on his genuine military achievements and extraordinary courage. He knew that Jing'an City was sparsely defended and its supplies were not plentiful, and that they were facing the main force of the most ferocious Tatar tribe, the "Black Stone Tribe." Three days ago, scouts reported that Batu, the leader of the Black Stone Tribe, known as the "Wolf King," had personally led 30,000 cavalry (claiming to be 50,000) in a sweeping attack, his spearhead aimed directly at Jing'an.

The news sent panic through the city. The prefect was frantic, like a cat on a hot tin roof, and tried several times to abandon the city and flee, but Liu Yuan sternly stopped him each time. "If Jing'an falls, the fertile lands stretching for thousands of miles behind us will be defenseless, and the people will be slaughtered! As an official appointed by the court, you do not think of your duty to defend the land, but only of fleeing for your life. Do you deserve your official robes? Do you deserve the people of the city?" His words were forceful and resounding, not only calming the prefect but also somewhat stabilizing the hearts of the people.

The next three days were what Liu Yuan called "doing everything he could." On the one hand, he strictly ordered the four gates to be kept closed, defenses to be strengthened, and the city's defenses to be reinforced. He organized all available forces, including government officials, militia, and even some able-bodied civilians, distributed weapons, and trained them day and night to guard the city walls. On the other hand, he sent a fast horse to the General of the Western Garrison to request reinforcements, but he was not sure if the distant aid could quench his immediate thirst.

In the air, besides the howling wind, one could almost hear the powerful pounding of countless hearts in chests. It was fear, it was tension, but above all, it was a resolute determination to survive against all odds. These heartbeats converged, as if transforming into a silent epic, a song titled "Holding Firm." In the deepest darkness before dawn, they waited quietly, waiting for the moment when daybreak would bring that earth-shattering cry that ripped through the silence and announced the start of the bloody battle.

Ma San stared intently at the area outside the city, a pitch-black expanse that seemed to devour all light. He tried to make out something, but apart from swaying tree shadows and the occasional distant roars of unknown beasts, there was nothing. Yet, it was precisely this unknown that made it all the more suffocating.

"General, look!" a sharp-eyed sentry suddenly shouted, pointing to the northwest.

Liu Yuan looked in the direction the man was pointing, and his pupils suddenly contracted. In the impenetrable darkness, countless tiny, almost imperceptible points of light had appeared, moving silently towards Jing'an City like will-o'-the-wisps. They moved slowly and stealthily, clearly intending to launch a surprise attack under the cover of night.

"They're here!" Liu Yuan's voice was as cold as iron. "Pass down the order: nock the arrows, draw the swords! Everyone on high alert! Tell the brothers to keep their composure. Without my command, no one is allowed to fire an arrow or make a sound!"

The order spread like wildfire across the city walls. The already tense atmosphere became even more oppressive, making it hard to breathe. The soldiers gripped their weapons tightly, held their breath, and stared intently at the approaching lights outside the city.

Ma San's heart was in his throat, and his palms were sweating. He could feel the heavy breathing of Uncle Wang, the old soldier beside him. Uncle Wang was a blacksmith with great strength, and at this moment he was wielding a heavy hammer, the hammerhead still bearing the marks of sparks from forging.

The light grew closer and closer, gradually revealing human figures. They were the vanguard of the Tatars, dressed in simple leather armor, carrying scimitars and short bows, their steps light and nimble, like cheetahs in the night, trying to reach the foot of the city wall and set up ladders.

They clearly underestimated the defensive strength of Jing'an City, or rather, they were too complacent. The Black Stone Tribe, accustomed to dominating the grasslands, didn't take this small border town seriously at all.

Only fifty paces from the city wall... forty paces... thirty paces...

Liu Yuan's gaze was sharp as an eagle's, fixed on the dark figures. He was waiting for the perfect opportunity, an opportunity to inflict maximum damage on the enemy.

"Twenty paces!" a soldier couldn't help but whisper.

Liu Yuan suddenly drew his sword from his waist, the blade flashing a chilling light in the torchlight.

"Fire arrows!"

A loud shout, like a thunderclap from a clear sky, resounded through the night!

The archers, who had been poised to fire, immediately released their taut bowstrings. "Whoosh—whoosh—whoosh—" Countless arrows, whistling sharply through the air, rained down like a black storm upon the shadowy figures outside the city!

"Thud! Thud!" The sounds of arrows piercing flesh, screams, and curses instantly shattered the silence of the night.

The dozens of Tatar vanguards at the forefront were caught off guard and fell to the ground, struck by arrows. In the darkness, men and horses tumbled and chaos ensued.

"Damn it! They're on guard!" came the angry roar of the Tatars from the darkness.

"Kill! For the glory of the Blackstone Tribe! Charge!" The Tatar soldiers who followed were enraged, brandishing their scimitars and rushing towards the city wall even more frantically.

"Throw stones! Smash them!" Liu Yuan ordered again.

From the city walls, boulders and logs, which had been prepared beforehand, rained down like hail. Although these items were rudimentary, their weight and impact were undoubtedly devastating to the unprepared infantry.

"what--!"

"Help!"

Screams of agony rose and fell. The Tatar soldiers who had just approached the city wall were once again thrown into chaos by this attack, suffering heavy casualties.

Ma San was dumbfounded. He hadn't expected that the general's order would have such power. But he had no time to think, because more Tatars had already rushed to the foot of the city wall and began frantically setting up siege ladders.

"Here it comes! Get the oil ready!" Uncle Wang shouted gruffly, handing the sledgehammer to one hand and picking up a ceramic jar filled with tung oil with the other.

"Pour the oil!"

At Liu Yuan's command, jars of scalding tung oil were poured down from the city wall. "Sizzle—" Oil splattered everywhere, landing on the Tatar soldiers and immediately eliciting shrill screams.

"ignition!"

The torches were thrown down, instantly igniting the tung oil. The area at the foot of the city wall was immediately engulfed in flames. The roaring flames illuminated the terrified, contorted faces of the Tatar soldiers and reddened half the night sky.

"Burn them to death! You dog Tartars!" The soldiers on the city wall were greatly encouraged by the sight and roared angrily, smashing their weapons down towards the city.

However, the ferocity of the Tatars exceeded their expectations. Even in the face of fire and arrows, many fearless Tatar soldiers risked their lives to climb the charred ladders.

"They're coming up!"

"Kill!"

A fierce melee battle began.

A Tatar soldier roared and was the first to climb onto the city wall. His scimitar, carrying a stench, slashed at Ma San, who was closest to him.

Ma San's pupils contracted, and almost instinctively he raised his ring-pommel sword to parry. A loud clang rang out, sparks flying. Ma San felt a sudden numbness in his arm, almost losing his grip on the hilt. The Tatar soldier was incredibly strong; missing his initial strike, he immediately changed his attack to a thrust, the tip of his blade aimed straight for Ma San's chest.

Ma San, lacking experience, turned deathly pale with fright as the blade was about to strike him. Just then, a thick arm suddenly reached out and grabbed the Tatar soldier's wrist.

It's Uncle Wang!

Uncle Wang roared and slammed the sledgehammer in his hand down with tremendous force onto the head of the Tatar soldier.

"boom!"

Red and white things were splattered all over the ground. The Tatar soldier didn't even utter a sound before collapsing to the ground, dead beyond any doubt.

"Hey kid, what are you standing there for! Kill him!" Uncle Wang kicked the corpse aside and roared at Ma San.

The bloody scene sent a shiver down Ma San's spine, and a surge of hot blood rushed to his head. Yes, the hatred for his parents, the resentment for his village, all lay with these Tatars before him! He abruptly raised his head, a mad killing intent flashing in his eyes, and brandishing his ring-pommel sword, charged toward another Tatar soldier who had just climbed onto the city wall.

"kill!"

On the city walls, shouts of battle, the clash of weapons, screams, and roars mingled together, creating a tragic and brutal symphony of war. Soldiers surged forward like a tide, only to fall like it. Liu Yuan, spear in hand, charged back and forth across the walls, his spear flashing like a dragon, each thrust claiming a life. His battle robe was stained crimson with blood, his face splattered with gore, but his eyes grew ever more resolute and sharp.

He knew this was just the beginning. Batu's main force hadn't arrived yet; this was merely a probing attack by the vanguard. But he had to hold on, he had to give his soldiers hope, to show them the possibility of holding out.

The night is still long. The first night in Jing'an City is destined to be sleepless. The test of blood and fire has only just begun.

Chapter Two: Bloodshed and the Lonely City

As dawn broke, the Tatars' first large-scale siege finally came to an end.

Outside the city, corpses littered the ground, along with the wreckage of siege equipment. The blood-stained earth reeked of a pungent, foul stench. On the city walls, the scene was equally horrific. Soldiers sat or lay, utterly exhausted. Many bore wounds, their clothes soaked in blood, their faces a mixture of sweat, tears, and blood, their expressions numb and weary.

Ma San leaned against the cold battlements, panting heavily. His arms were still aching, and the web between his thumb and forefinger was cracked and bleeding. Last night's fighting was like a nightmare; he didn't know how he survived, only remembering constantly swinging his sword, parrying, stabbing, and people falling around him, only to be replaced by others. Uncle Wang, to cover him, was slashed in the back by a Tatar centurion and fell into a pool of blood. Before dying, he clung tightly to the centurion's leg, giving Ma San the opportunity to plunge his sword into the man's heart.

Thinking of Uncle Wang, Ma San's eyes welled up with tears. This blacksmith, who was usually taciturn but had repeatedly saved his life in times of crisis, was gone just like that.

"Take stock of the casualties, treat the wounded, reinforce the city defenses, and replenish arrows and stones!" Liu Yuan's voice was still loud, but now it carried a barely perceptible hoarseness and weariness. He stood atop the city wall, gazing into the distance, his eyes grave. Last night's battle, though successfully repelling the enemy, had also resulted in considerable losses for their own side. Initial estimates indicated over three hundred casualties, a devastating blow to Jing'an City, which was already short-handed.