Chapter 93 The Wolf Pack

Ye Xin stood motionless, his long blade seeming frozen in midair. He relished this feeling of the hunt: observing the enemy, applying pressure, making judgments, searching for the moment to strike. The female commander across from him, capable of leading these demon soldiers, was clearly a pillar-level powerhouse, but that meant little to him. He had slain many of such caliber with his own hands.

“Old Qiu, should we be joining the fight?” a veteran murmured.

“Do you still doubt the Young Marshal’s strength?” Qiu Jiecha shook his head.

Within the ranks of demon soldiers, the female commander had set aside her longbow and picked up her halberd once more, her gaze locked onto Ye Xin in the distance. Today, for the first time, she tasted the bitterness of helpless defeat. She would remember this man—next time on the battlefield, she would cut him down herself!

Time crept onward, both sides locked in a tense standoff. Ye Xin’s troops remained steady; as long as he did not move, none would act rashly.

An hour slipped by, and Ye Xin’s smile grew. Victory was already his, but he waited for an even better opportunity.

Within the demon soldiers’ formation, an officer whispered to the female commander, “Commander Sima, morale is faltering. You must make a decision soon.”

Indeed, emotions were growing unstable. The opposite bank was strewn with corpses—fallen comrades. Blood had stained the riverbank red, and soldiers huddled at the edge. Occasionally, some unlucky soul was shoved into the raging river, crying out in agony. After over an hour of such sensory torment, it would be a miracle for morale to hold.

“We cannot cross the wild river. Today, those bastards will have the advantage!” the female commander spat through clenched teeth. “Pass my order: retreat, slowly and in good order!”

From Ye Xin’s vantage, the demon soldiers and nearly four hundred troops began to withdraw, edging away from the riverbank.

Ye Xin’s smile twisted into a sneer, his voice dripping with contempt: “Chicks…”

He feared only encountering a lion king. A pride led by a cub would only become his feast. Xiao Mo’s demon army, while made up mostly of innate warriors, had about one in ten with their own life skills, according to statistics. Aside from himself, Hao Fei, and Xie En, Lin Tong and the others could not create overwhelming advantage. If their momentum was checked and surrounded by rabble, the situation would become dire. Even if victory was secured, casualties would be inevitable—something Ye Xin wished to avoid.

Thus, he was annoyed by Qiu Jiecha’s rash suggestion. Qiu believed a soldier’s duty was to defend the homeland, and dying in battle was honorable. Ye Xin disagreed; he felt no true allegiance to the Great Wei. Xue Baiqi, Hao Fei, and others were his friends, and he was willing to entrust his life to comrades, but he could not abide needless sacrifice.

Over an hour had passed, time enough for many actions, but the demon soldiers’ commander never regained composure from the carnage. She lamented her inability to rescue comrades, raged at her failure to cross the wild river, and perhaps feared the shame and blame awaiting her upon return. All pointless concerns. On the battlefield, to be consumed by such distractions was a mark of one destined to be eliminated.

From the most rational perspective: had she simply stabilized her formation and sent scouts for reinforcements, Ye Xin would have been forced to retreat—or at least launch a single raid and then withdraw.

But to choose retreat at this moment? The rabble, seeing their comrades slaughtered like ants, had morale at rock bottom. To force them to hold formation under strict military law might have worked, but now, with retreat underway, a little more pressure from Ye Xin would turn withdrawal into full rout.

Demon-armored soldiers, famed for their immovable resolve, required demon cavalry support. Alone, facing the speed of the wolf riders, they were mere prey—just a little tougher, nothing more.

Ye Xin’s blade tip twitched, and Xue Baiqi and the others instantly tensed.

Moments later, the demon soldiers had retreated over two hundred meters, the clang of heavy armor growing fainter. The rabble quickened their pace, eager to leave the killing ground behind.

“Go!” Ye Xin commanded in a low voice. The Boundless Sky Wolves under him shot forward like lightning, Xue Baiqi and the others following in unison, their combined aura surging forth like an unstoppable tide.

“Commander Sima, the wolf riders are moving!” an officer cried from the war wagon.

“What?” The female commander spun around, seeing Ye Xin and his men streaking toward the wild river at a furious speed. Her pupils contracted to pinpoints as she realized her fatal error.

Demon-armored troops could not cross the wild river, so subconsciously, she assumed the enemy could not either. She overlooked the fact that they were wolf riders!

“Form up! Form up!” she bellowed.

The retreating rabble heard her roar, turned, and witnessed a nightmare: thirteen Boundless Sky Wolves soared from the opposite bank, streaking across the twenty-meter-wide chasm like meteors, cold killing intent sweeping toward them.

“Form up!” The female commander kept shouting.

But the rabble could no longer care. Their last scraps of courage had been exhausted during the hour-long standoff; panic erupted as they fled for their lives. With the demon soldiers far stronger, perhaps they had a chance to escape behind their cover.

Ye Xin’s sneer deepened. So-called pillar-level or superior pillar-level referred only to personal power, but strength and ability were not the same. An incompetent general could doom an entire army. He admitted the demon soldiers were seasoned veterans, but under her leadership, they were marching quickly toward death.

The demon soldiers halted. Against the Sky Wolf Legion, they had ample experience—no need for orders. Instinctively, they formed a tight circle, raising massive shields, spears protruding from the gaps like a steel hedgehog. In mere moments, they’d become a formidable iron fortress.

To be fair, their killing intent rivaled Ye Xin’s own. Fully armored, well-equipped, experienced, they compensated for any shortcomings. If Ye Xin and his men forced their way in, even if they triumphed, it would cost dearly.

But they were not facing the Sky Wolf Legion. Though all wolf riders, their style was utterly different. If the Sky Wolf Legion represented noble ideals and justice, the Heaven’s Wrath Camp embodied survival of the fittest—survival was their highest law.

The Sky Wolf Legion fought to protect what must be protected; the Heaven’s Wrath Camp fought because they had no choice, to survive, they embraced death.

In the Great Wei, the God of Heaven’s Wrath was renowned among the people. Leading the Heaven’s Wrath Camp, he had held out in the Da Zhao kingdom for over a year, buying precious time for Great Wei—allowing Ironheart Saint to redeploy defenses, and Wei Juan to rebuild the new army.

The trouble was, Ye Xin had to constantly evade pursuit. If he remained hidden, Jiang Neng would cease chasing Heaven’s Wrath Camp and attack Great Wei instead. Ye Xin would no longer intervene, staying quiet. Yet, his first battle had seized Gold Mountain, robbing Jiang Neng of half his fortune, leaving them mortal enemies.

The wolf riders closed in rapidly. The demon soldiers braced for impact, but it never came. Ye Xin led his Boundless Sky Wolves in swift circles around the iron hedgehog.

One lap, two, three… In moments, the cavalry had circled nearly a hundred times. The demon soldiers could only watch blurred figures streak past, forced to focus intently on every approach and departure. The sensation was deeply unpleasant; after too long, dizziness and disorientation would set in.

Suddenly, Yang Xuantong pulled a palm-sized crystal sphere from his pouch and hurled it.

The crystal struck a massive shield, shattering. Liquid sprayed everywhere.

Behind him, Xue Baiqi had drawn a longbow. He was no match for Mo Yan in archery, but could easily hit a shield.

His arrow shot out, striking the steel shield. The arrow could not penetrate, merely ringing with a sharp metallic clang, sparking before snapping.

Immediately, the shield burst into flames, catching nearby demon soldiers as well.

The sudden blaze caused some commotion among the demon soldiers—they had never seen such an attack.

In his early days with Heaven’s Wrath Camp, Ye Xin survived and earned his status through such unique tricks. This world had reached its peak in martial prowess, but was utterly lacking in other fields. From the start, Ye Xin was regarded as a marvel by the camp’s prisoners. Even merchants need capital; without status, how could he maneuver and climb?

Yang Xuantong threw several more crystal spheres at the iron hedgehog, while Xue Baiqi fired arrow after arrow. In moments, five points of flame appeared on the iron fortress, and demon soldiers behind the shields could no longer endure the burning pain, howling in agony.

Yang Xuantong reached again into his pouch, then grimaced and muttered, “The lord said this trick is minor, just for amusement. Ah… If only I’d made more then…”

The demon soldiers finally responded: those ablaze were kicked from the formation, abandoned. (To be continued.)

PS:
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