124 Ruler of the Wes (1/2)

”Arrows incoming!” yelled Fu Qian in warning from the back as he tried to stop the remaining soldiers from rushing forward recklessly. A swarming volley of arrows soared through the skies like a murder of black crows headed towards the men overtaken by their blood-lust.

A number of Viscount Sanzu's men had already broken ranks, intoxicated with the thrill of inflicting a crushing defeat on the enemy, they were chasing down and killing the bedraggled soldiers trying to escape from the battlefield.

After hearing the warning they came back to their senses and stopped chasing the enemy, immediately they raised their shields in a desperate bid to protect themselves from the dark cloud of incoming projectiles, they hurriedly formed a raggedy shield formation and held their breath bracing themselves for the shower of death about to fall from the sky.

The vulnerable and frantic soldiers of the nobles who had discarded their heavy equipment in a desperate attempt to make a speedy escape from the slaughtering fields of the western hills, screamed in terror as they were caught unaware in the rain of arrows coming from their allies, blood splashed and splattered over the rocky terrain as the arrows impaled friend and foe mercilessly.

The viscount's men who had lost their discipline in the fog of slaughter had left themselves open to attack from the distant archers because they had strayed too far from their own lines, they too took horrible casualties even with their shields raised in a tight formation, the volume of arrows raining down found the gaps in their defense like water seeping through soil.

Moans, screams and shouts rose in the air as they made a desperate retreat from the open ground while being peppered with arrows, abandoning the dead while dragging the injured back towards their own lines in chaos, leaving trails of blood staining the ground behind them. The survivors had to quickly get out of range of the archers before the second volley of arrows arrived....

”What happened? Who were you fighting? What caused those explosions?”

Hong Zang was livid as he asked quick-fire questions, reports from the paltry dozens of shell shocked survivors who had made it back to their lines described a terrifying weapon wielded by the soldiers of the western hills and the ghastly casualties the weapon had left behind on the battlefield.

Hong Zang listened to the details trembling in trepidation, he could not believe his ears. He had lost almost 90 percent of his troops. He had only kept two hundred of his forces in reserve. Blinded by his thirst for revenge he had sent the majority of his troops together with Elder Wan's forces to raid the western hills, only now did he realize that Baron Hongtian had sent them as cannon fodder.

Elder Wan didn't fare any better, he was pale-faced and could barely breathe when the tally of his casualties reached his ears. He regretted his eagerness in assaulting the western hills, wishing he had held back his forces like Baron Hontian and Elder Juantao but there was no medicine for regret. He had lost so much of his forces that he was now one of the weakest nobles in the western region of the capital.

When word of the disastrous failure reached the big tent in the nobles war camp Song Zemin sat on his cushioned chair with a sour face, he had banked on the army of these nobles whittling down the defenders of the western hills then he would waltz into the manor and execute Hartley and his wife gloriously in front of the army and assert his position in the eyes of these nobles from the western region of the capital.

”Lets go.” he stood up and marched out of the tent....

A tall and confident man looking in his forties walked towards the entrance to the western hills. He wore white robe that fluttered in the wind. The view of a large field filled with the dead at the mouth of the winding roads leading towards the western hills greeted his eyes, he scowled as he headed through the scattered corpses towards the western hills with plans of the most gruesome revenge forming in his head....

It was about an hour since the slaughter in the western hills, the sun shone brightly on this spring day. All the nobles had gathered at the front line to watch Song Zemin open the way, now that he was personally taking action surely they would strike a decisive blow against the defenders of the western hills regardless of what weapons they were using....

Back on the high ground of the western hills Fu Qian could be heard shouting loud orders as the viscount's men regrouped and reorganized themselves while administering first-aid to their injured. Heaving breaths, gasped of pain, curses and prayers could be heard mixed with the chaotic screams of the wounded laying on the ground.

The elites of House Hartley took up positions at the front, they only had twenty of the black orbs remaining, they were now nervous, there was no way they could repel another full scale assault from the noble forces.

”Someone is coming!” came a shout from one of the soldiers, everyone looked at the person walking casually towards the winding roads below.

An arrow whizzed from Fu Jianu towards the man dressed in white, with a simple wave of his right hand the arrow was shattered into dust without the man even breaking his casual strides.

Most of the soldiers gulped, the man was radiating an overwhelming oppressive power, everyone gripped their weapons nervously until their knuckles were white, mentally preparing themselves for an even harder battle than they had just had with over two thousand soldiers...

Suddenly there was a swirl of wind and thin blue spiral lines like longitude around a small globe.

Among the defenders,a young man with black hair and blue eyes appeared in the ranks, Fu Qian was the first to see the new person on the scene and breathed a sigh of relief as he ran over. He gave a knight's salute saying ”my lord.”

All the elites from House Hartley followed suit.

”Rise.” Hartley said in a calm voice, ”you've all done well.” Hartley patted Fu Qian's shoulder then started walking out to the westerns hills to meet the newcomer.

”Fall back, I'll take it from here.” Hartley spoke without turning to address anyone in particular.

Hartley casually walked through the carnage wreaked by the secret weapons produced by Alrick, he strolled pass the mutilated dead bodies littering the battlefield, walking without a care as if the wretched mangled corpses were blooming lilies in a summertime garden. Hartley dressed in black walked to meet Song Zemin dressed in white.

From one look in the eyes of the man approaching, Hartley instantly knew who the man was, how could he forget those eyes, the black as ink pupil surrounded by the white as lily sclera. Six months ago those eyes would have sent shivers down Hartley's spine, the first time he had seen those eyes it was like he was looking up at a God. Now all he saw was an old man filled with rage and hatred.

The mountain air was thick with the scent of blood wafting around on a brisk wind, as the two came closer, the killing intent that radiated from Song Zemin was stifling. Hartley stopped ten meters from Song Zemin, both men stood on grass stained red in the middle of the bloody carnage from the battle earlier. The scene looked like two demons about to engage in a death battle on a stage made from corpses..

With a smile Hartley talked casually to the man.

”So, we finally meet.”

Returning the smile Song Zemin replied.

”Yes, finally a thorn can be removed from the capital, make no mistake young man, you and all who stand with you will suffer for your transgressions and then that pretty little redhead is next.”