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"The outpost is not far ahead," Feng Huo said, extending his finger to lightly tap the position on the Display Device, pointing to the road between the two armies. "The only route for attack is this rugged slope. This path is narrow and dangerous; if we launch a frontal assault, we will only be suppressed by their ranged fire and become their live targets."
Yan Kong nodded slightly, his gaze fixed on the map displayed on the device, his eyes sharp as blades. "What about the other side?" he asked quietly, pointing to the opposite side of the Frontline, where a steep hillside rose almost vertically, causing him to frown.
Feng Huo raised his head, his expression becoming profound. His finger slowly moved toward that hillside, gently tapping it before smiling. "Right here," he said, his tone imbued with an undeniable confidence and determination. "It seems insurmountable, but it is precisely where they will be least prepared."
Yan Kong furrowed his brow as he looked at him, a hint of skepticism in his voice. "You mean to take people up that slope? Feng Huo, are you insane? That terrain is no joke; one misstep could lead to total annihilation."
Yet Feng Huo remained unshaken, a slight smile playing on his lips, his eyes glinting with shrewdness. "Madness and opportunity are often separated by a thin veil. If we can infiltrate from here and scale this slope, then Yang Chuan's Frontline will be laid bare before our blades. They will be caught off guard, and their entire defense will be torn apart like paper."
He paused for a moment, meeting Yan Kong's gaze with unwavering resolve. "I believe in you, Yan Kong. This is the turning point and your opportunity. As long as you can lead an elite team up this slope, victory will be within our grasp."
Yan Kong fell silent for a moment, lowering his head to look at the map again, his expression cold and deep. He knew Feng Huo's plan was reckless and dangerous, but at the same time, he could not deny that it was indeed an extraordinary path to victory. His fingers lightly tapped on the hilt of his sword, a flicker of battle intent flashing in his eyes before he raised his head to meet Feng Huo's gaze.
Without saying anything further, Yan Kong turned and strode toward the tent's exit. His silhouette appeared straight and resolute under the dim light, each step carrying a decisive power. Just as he reached the entrance of the tent, he paused without looking back, his voice low yet filled with undeniable determination. "Just give me thirty men. I will cut my way into their Frontline and take down their commander."
He hesitated briefly, glancing back over his shoulder with a hint of ferocity in his tone. "You all draw their full attention at the front; once I raise Wu Jing's flag... prepare for an all-out assault."
With that said, he did not wait for Feng Huo's response but pushed aside the tent flap and stepped outside. The cold wind greeted him with a chill from the mountains and a hint of bloodlust that made his battle-ready face appear even more stern. His figure quickly vanished into the light outside the tent, leaving behind a silent space and a gently swaying tent flap.
Feng Huo watched as Yan Kong's silhouette disappeared before lowering his gaze back to the Display Device. The steep hillside and Yang Chuan's Frontline were clearly visible on the map. His finger lightly tapped several times on the map as a meaningful smile returned to his lips.
"Of course it can be done..." he murmured softly, his tone laced with cold confidence as if speaking to himself. "My Samurai."
His gaze lingered on the marker of the high ground, his eyes deep as if piercing through the map to foresee the future battlefield. He leaned gently against the back of his chair, hands crossed over his chest, waiting for a storm belonging to Yan Kong to ignite his plans into flames of victory.
Within the camp, lights and torches illuminated the entire area as soldiers quickly assembled, creating a scene of bustling order. The sergeants' commanding voices rang out: "Form up! Shields in front, gunners in the back!"
Rows of shield-bearing soldiers stood tall, their circular Energy Shields reflecting a faint blue light under the illumination, forming an impenetrable barrier. Their expressions were resolute, movements synchronized, like a wall of steel composed of human bodies. Behind them, soldiers armed with Energy Guns followed closely, fingers lightly resting on triggers, ready to respond to commands at any moment. Their faces were serious and focused, eyes fixed on the distance as if they could see the dangers lurking in the Frontline ahead.
At the edge of the camp, a small figure gathered a mere thirty men, contrasting sharply with the orderly ranks of the Army. These thirty were lightly armored, their gear simple and agile. They wielded Katanas and had rope guns and explosive packs at their waists; each piece of equipment was carefully selected to minimize burden during action. Their expressions were grim and fearless because they knew they would become the sharpest blade in this battle.
Yan Kong stood at the forefront of this group, his silhouette appearing even taller against the flickering flames of the camp. His armor bore marks from sword strikes, yet it did not diminish the oppressive aura he exuded. He lowered his head to check the explosives at his waist; after confirming everything was in order, he raised his gaze to scan the thirty warriors.
"We have only one goal," he said in a low voice, filled with cold determination. "Break into the Frontline and plant Wu Jing's flag." His fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword, his tone leaving no room for hesitation. "There are no unnecessary orders; there is only one path—forward, all the way to victory."
He glanced back at the thirty men behind him, his eyes carrying a subtle blend of sternness and trust. These individuals were elite warriors carefully chosen by Wu Jing; no further words were needed as their mission was etched into every bone.
"Move out!" Yan Kong commanded softly as he took the first step forward. His sword swayed slightly, ready to be drawn at any moment while the thirty men followed closely behind, their steps light and swift like ghosts merging into the night as they advanced toward the Frontline.
In the distance among the Army, sergeants continued directing soldiers into formation, preparing for a tug-of-war battle. The metallic clashing of shields mingled with the faint hum of Energy Guns, filling the camp with an oppressive atmosphere before combat. Amidst this tense environment, Yan Kong and his thirty had already vanished into the shadows of the mountain path, ready to ignite another fierce flame in this war.
Before the Fog City Soldier array, with a sergeant's command, the silent night was suddenly set ablaze. A massive bomb was launched from a catapult with a sharp whistle towards Yang Chuan's Frontline gates. Moments later, "Boom—!" a thunderous explosion echoed through the valley as a great fireball erupted upward, thick smoke billowing forth and shattering the gates of Frontline into pieces that scattered everywhere.
The deafening sound reverberated through the night sky like a heavy war drum. The Yangchuan Garrison within Frontline was abruptly awakened; they surged out from buildings as cavalrymen, infantrymen, and crossbowmen swiftly entered combat mode. Their commander stood atop a high point waving a flag while shouting commands; relying on their advantageous terrain, they launched a fierce counterattack against Wu Jing's forces from their elevated position.
Wu Jing's shield bearers immediately moved forward to form an orderly defensive formation; their massive Energy Shields unfurled to create a solid barrier. They braced against incoming artillery fire and arrows while steadily retreating. Each step was filled with pressure, yet their ranks remained stable without any hint of chaos.
"Gunmen, load your weapons! Suppress them!" The sergeant's voice came from behind, directing Wu Jing's pistol troops.
The gunmen quickly completed their preparations, standing behind the shield formation, raising their Energy Guns to aim at the enemy. As the command was given, a torrent of blue energy bullets poured forth like a rainstorm, heading straight for the Yangchuan Soldiers emerging from the Frontline. Each energy bullet traced a dazzling arc of light across the night sky, striking the enemy's armor or fire wheels and exploding in brilliant sparks.
Under the intense fire suppression, the soldiers of Yang Chuan were forced to halt, desperately seeking cover. However, Wu Jing's gunmen continued to fire in wave after wave, pinning them down near the entrance of the Frontline and making it difficult for them to advance further.
"Steady your formation! Don't panic!" The sergeant of the shield bearers shouted loudly at the front, rallying morale. Their shields absorbed wave after wave of attacks, with the Energy Barrier flickering with faint light but remaining as solid as an iron wall.
As Wu Jing's battalion gradually retreated, they successfully lured the Yangchuan Garrison into the open area in front of the Frontline, exposing the enemy to a hail of gunfire. Meanwhile, in the shadows at a distance, Yan Kong and his thirty men were quietly maneuvering around this frontal clash, stealthily approaching the rear of the Frontline to prepare for a deadly strike.
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