Chapter Thirty: The Duel

Unlike what most of the Contractors had anticipated, the Han army did not launch their assault until the second day.

The weather was clear; war drums thundered, horns resounded, and banners fluttered in the wind. Han soldiers streamed out of their encampment in an unending flow, grand and imposing, brimming with murderous intent.

This time, it was not the Contractors summoning small detachments with special items for their own gain. Instead, history itself was unfolding: the Han army, under the command of its own generals, marched out in full force to eradicate the enemies of the Empire.

Their total number was around four thousand—this figure included those reinforced after the previous thousand-strong unit had been ambushed and routed, supplemented by nearby troops. Most of them were infantry. Every unit that could be mustered from the surrounding areas had been assembled here.

Though they were outnumbered, their armor was first-rate, their training rigorous, and discipline strict. Whether among the officers or the rank and file, all believed it was only fitting to defeat the Yellow Turban force before them.

The road was rugged and hard to traverse. By midday, after advancing over thirty kilometers and just as they were preparing to make camp and rest, Huangfu Song received word from his scouts: the Yellow Turbans had left their own camp and were advancing to meet them.

“Excellent! Press on—smash the Yellow Turbans and feast!” With the Han commander’s order, the soldiers resumed their advance.

The two armies met around half past two in the afternoon. The Yellow Turbans formed their lines on a hillside, with the center jutting forward and the flanks slightly withdrawn. The Han vanguard did not recklessly charge but paused, waiting for the main force to catch up. Only then did they deploy their formation and, to the beat of the drums, march forward.

A volley of arrows flew from the Yellow Turban ranks—over a hundred bows and crossbows seized in the last battle. With arrows limited, their barrage was thin and caused little harm to the Han. The Han, in turn, fired upwards with their own powerful bows and crossbows, but this threat too was blunted: the Yellow Turban soldiers at the front all bore shields and wore armor.

Once the fighting began, the Han army found it far from easy. The Yellow Turbans held their ground, suffering casualties but refusing to yield.

The Contractors each showcased their abilities. The old man, Dalbo’s team, was stationed on the Han left; Lank’s group held the center; Getini’s squad was on the right.

With a sweep of Dalbo’s hand, black clouds rose from the Yellow Turban lines, slowing the enemy’s advance within the affected area. The man in golden armor, wielding a great blade, shattered a defender’s shield with a single strike, then hacked again and again until he severed the soldier’s arm.

The wounded soldier was forced back, replaced by another. Around him, Dalbo’s team coordinated with the Han to press the Yellow Turban formation, creating significant pressure.

In the center, Lank also surged forward at first, swinging his war hammer at the enemy. When he found he could not deliver an overwhelming blow—and drew considerable attention and attacks himself—he pulled back.

In the early stages, when both sides’ formations were tight, it was not the optimal moment for Contractors to fully unleash their power. They launched probing attacks to see if their foes were easily broken. Once they realized the enemy would not fall quickly, they unanimously chose to conserve their strength—waiting for the moment when the tide turned, when the enemy began to rout, to unleash their full array of skills and reap the greatest spoils.

After twenty minutes of battle, the Han center inflicted some casualties on their adversaries and pushed them back a few meters, but the Yellow Turban flanks held firm, barely giving ground. Their overall formation remained solid, showing no sign of collapse.

Behind the lines, Huangfu Song frowned.

This was not the Yellow Turban force he remembered. In the past, they had been ragged mobs, armed with hoes and rakes—numerous, chaotic refugees. True, their numbers could deal blows to his troops, but once his men formed up, they could rout them with ease. How had things changed so much?

They were almost like a real army. Who had trained them? Captured Han soldiers?

If this spread, and other Yellow Turbans learned these tactics, the consequences would be dire. They must be annihilated here—none can escape. My men are exhausted; even if we break them, pursuit will be difficult. The Yellow Turbans must have just learned these formations and cannot easily adapt... With this, he gave his order. “Rear ranks forward! Sound the retreat!”

The Han in the rear pressed up; those at the front maintained formation and withdrew slowly, clearly prepared to counterattack if pursued. But the Yellow Turbans, holding their lines, made no move to chase.

Seeing no opportunity, the Han did not push further and retreated. Only when the Han were far off did the Yellow Turbans on the hillside slowly turn and withdraw as well. Though their movement was slow and cumbersome, it was coordinated and orderly.

The Contractors, unable to seize the advantage, were disappointed. Yet, unlike the Wuzhou team who could alter events drastically, they had no choice but to await their next chance.

“The Yellow Turbans have a formation, but clumsy and unwieldy. Today our men are tired; it is unwise to prolong the fight. Tomorrow, we shall outflank them for a decisive victory.”

After withdrawing a few miles and making camp, Huangfu Song’s orders spread through the ranks, sparking wave after wave of cheers.

——

“Our casualties are over a hundred, with a dozen Han killed. Dozens of shields are damaged, and many suits of armor and helmets as well.”

“All the wounded are to be sent to the medical tents; those with damaged armor should try to repair it themselves. If they cannot, let them apply for replacements.”

Nearby, several Han officers who had defected were directing the construction of a new camp—they were more experienced in these matters. Walls, stakes, gates, tents—all were organized in perfect order.

It was a relief to have such tasks delegated to subordinates.

Throughout the battle, Wang Luo had observed from high ground, watching both sides closely. He was satisfied with his troops’ performance. They had held the line and kept their formation, not easily broken by the Han. More importantly, their morale remained steady—though the fight was brief, fatigue had not yet taken its toll, and this could hardly be called a true test.

He could sense that the Han soldiers were not so formidable either. Those professional troops could suppress their negative emotions and follow tactics, but such suppression is not always a good thing.

Perhaps there was a way to draw those feelings out.

Even with only a short period of training, keeping men fixed in place during battle was a relatively easy step. But what about the next stage?

In fact, today had almost presented an opportunity. If the Han had pressed forward, continuing their assault, and the line could have shifted from a bulge to a concavity while still holding firm, then their numbers could have been used to allow the flanks to strike inward.

If that had happened, there was a good chance the Han would have suffered a heavy blow—clearly, their general had recognized this potential danger.

Now, the task was to continue drilling and fighting; with repeated battles, the recruits would become veterans, and the perils of the battlefield would become routine.