Blue Star Cultivator 122 When The Smoke Cleared....

"We're all going to die, aren't we?" A young soldier wearing a full suit of silver armor with the insignia of Viscount Sanzu imprinted on the breast plate asked while s.h.i.+vering, his hands trembled as he tightly held on to the hilt of the sheathed sword attached to his waist.

The soldier stood beside him turned and inspected the nervous younger soldier, the young soldier had red hair gus.h.i.+ng out from under his helmet and a full beard that blocked out the insignia printed on his chest.

"Did you plan to live forever?" the veteran asked.

This man was obviously more experienced than the red hair soldier, he had wrinkles at the corner of his exposed eyes and carried himself with more confidence than the fidgety men stood in a defensive line beside him.

The red hair soldier was taken aback by the casual question in the face of certain death, he couldn't even think straight, he watched the armies of the five n.o.bles that ruled the fertile flat lands gathering in neat formations across the rocky flattened ground. They were about a kilometer from the winding mountain roads that led to the Western Hills and were sure to make their move today.

What a question to contemplate standing in the dew on a hazy morning like this, the red hair soldier opened and closed his mouth several times but no words escaped from his lips. He didn't plan to live forever but he sure wanted to live longer than today. The veteran smiled then turned his eyes back to the budding battlefield in the distance saying, "Leave it up to fate, fate will decide our endings today."

No one could blame any of these one thousand men sent by Viscount Sanzu for being scared. When have they ever had to face such a ma.s.sive army in a full frontal a.s.sault? Their duties usually revolved around petty skirmishes with the small forces of other n.o.bles or eliminating under-equipped bandits hiding in a forest somewhere.

It was like someone who had been fighting a poodle was suddenly told to fight a wild grizzly bear in its own habitat.

The rising sun glinted off of the sea of silver armor in the distance down below as they organized themselves in neat lines of tactical formations, the front ranks held long spears and small s.h.i.+elds, behind them were men brandis.h.i.+ng large s.h.i.+elds and long swords and further back were the archers.

Holding the high ground on the opposite side were the troops from the western hills. Viscount Sanzu's men were equipped with armor, long swords and mid-sized s.h.i.+elds. The 200 elite troops of House Hartley were sporting silver and black armor with a large bear imprinted across the entire front of the armor from torso to neck.

They were only equipped with long swords and a leather bag tied around their waste.

Away from the battlefield a huge tent was erected inside the war camp of the alliance of n.o.bles from the flat lands. Many of the n.o.bles and their servants wore full suits of pristine armor that was obviously polished until it gleamed in the light.

They sat on luxurious furniture and browsed the map of the Western Hills talking about tactics. Shouts of men and neighs of horses along with the sounds of metal against metal could be heard outside as many different guards and bodyguards patrolled through the busy camp. Servants busily scampered around the area making sure everything was just right for the esteemed n.o.bles.

"Are there xiantian experts among them?" asked Elder Wan, he was eager to get the conquest of the western hills going.

"There is, but nothing we can't handle." Answered Song Zemin who was comfortably sitting in a cus.h.i.+oned chair, he had learned his lesson countless times underestimating Hartley, but this time he was asked to come personally by the eldest prince. It was chance for him to get rid of the youth who had haunted his dreams ever since that backlash he suffered in the s.p.a.ce crack, after today he could finally put his mind at ease, and gain a favor from the eldest prince in the process.

Baron Hongtian didn't mind letting these n.o.bles take lead in the fight, he was quite content to let them rush into western hills as cannon fodder. Unlike him, most of them hadn't received detailed reports of the carnage the lord of the western hills was capable of. He glanced at the half saint Song Zemin and knowing there was a full saint hidden somewhere, he was quite confident in this a.s.sault.

Too bad the mountains protected the north side of the western hills he thought to himself, there was no way to outflank and surround the opponent with their superior numbers and end this conflict as soon as possible.

But that also meant that the opponent couldn't escape either, once they were backed into a corner they could be hunted down like animals.

Elder Juntao sat closest to the open flap of the tent. He had different thoughts entirely from everybody else in this tent, in fact he didn't want to be anywhere near the western hills, he was already traumatized by his last visit there. He sat and couldn't help but rub his right shoulder, it was fully healed but he still experienced phantom pains just thinking about that demon in the western hills.

Hong Zang couldn't wait to catch that red head b.i.t.c.h who had slapped out every single one of his teeth except for one still present at the left side of his jaw , a sinister toothless smile appeared on his face. He wanted that b.i.t.c.h's head on a pike displayed at his manor. He didn't need any of the spoils of war.

"Clear the way! Could you make sure there are no commoners around, I don't want to catch a disease." Hong Zang huffed at his guards as he exited the command tent and headed towards the front lines.

The first a.s.sault against the western hills was to take place within the hour and he wanted to witness the systematic dismantling and destruction of the western hills puny forces....

At noon the sun was high and the shadows were short. The glistening metallic sea surged forward towards the western hills. The thumping of their every step could be heard and felt as they closed in for the kill.

Soon everyone standing in the defensive line at the entrance to the western hills could see each individual soldier, this means the marching tide were less than five hundred meters away.

"It's really happening" said the young red hair soldier to himself standing on a ridge looking at the army moving towards them, the mounting terror in his heart could clearly be seen in his eyes.

Did he really have to stay here and be impaled by one of those long spears? Holy Matriarch! There were so many of them coming, he could actually hear the clangs of the enemy armor as the joints grinded against the other metallic parts.

The demonstration by Hartley two days ago had given everyone hope but staring at the thousands that were marching towards them now.... many began to lose their nerves again.

"Move Forward!" Fu Qian's voice was heard from the back just in time to distract the soldiers from the horrors floating in their minds, forty members of the elite guards of House Hartley pushed their way to the front and spread themselves ten meters apart. The bravery displayed by these recently promoted soldiers in the face of the overwhelming opposition made some established soldiers feel a tingle of shame.

Fu Qian looked at his daughter beside him dressed in black close fitting leather armor made by ZHI ruo, she had a long bow across her shoulder and a quiver of arrows strapped to her back.

"Be careful Jianu," he said with teary eyes and a smile at the same time.

"I will." Fu Jianu replied and scampered off towards a high ridge about fifty meters away.

Nervousness was palpable on the side of the defenders as the army closed the distance between the two. When they were fifty meters away the long spears that were pointed to the skies were lowered into a horizontal forward position. It was going to be a battle uphill for the attackers but with their sheer numbers and the longer reach of their spears, they were confident in overrunning the enemy's defensive positions and be in the manor of the western hills before the end of the first hour.

forty meters.....

thirty meters....

twenty meters....

At this point the forty elites from House Hartley dipped into the leather bags tied at their waste and retrieved a black orb the size of a ripe lemon.

fifteen meters...

ten meters.....

Just when the attacking forces were gearing up themselves for an all out charge at full speed. All forty of House Hartley's elites pressed a indentation in the orbs causing a sizzling noise then threw them into the bulk of tightly packed soldiers coming up the hill.

"The b.u.mpkins are throwing stones" shouted a soldier in the n.o.ble's army scowling with disdain at the defenders perched on the high ground, just as laughter began to break out in the line of spear-toting soldiers, there was a big boom that shook the earth, followed by another and another and yet another. The never ending booms sounded like rough wavelets smas.h.i.+ng against a tropical beach.

Soon the whole line of attacking soldiers were in disarray, shrieks and screams bellowed out and debris flew everywhere, black smoke plumed and billowed towards the sky obscuring everyone's vision.
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When the smoke cleared .....