Chapter 128: The Impartial Heavens

The north wind bitingly cold, Yun Hao was huddled in his fur coat, yet he still shivered like a turtle. On the parade ground, however, the soldiers stood like iron stakes, their spears held firm. Dressed only in leather armor, it was a mystery how they endured the piercing chill of the northern plains. The vast training field was packed with troops, yet not a single cough could be heard; only the howling of the freezing wind filled the air.

Yun Hao had some knowledge of the spear. When peasant rebels rose up, their poverty usually forced them to rely on simple cudgels. Such weapons were easy to procure and simple to use, making them the most practical choice for the masses. But a professional military force, however poorly funded, had to distinguish itself from such amateurs. Thus, the long spear emerged. The cudgel, as a blunt instrument, demanded immense physical strength, whereas the spear, with its sharp iron head, possessed far greater lethality.

Through constant experience, the professional killers of the army discovered a flaw: when a spear pierced a body, blood would run down the shaft, making it slippery and potentially fatal in the heat of battle if one lost their grip. The warriors decided to innovate, and the red-tasseled spear was born. By adding a bundle of inexpensive red silk, the blood would be caught by the tassel rather than coating the shaft, solving the problem of the slippery grip.

Armies were ravenous consumers of iron, and it was impossible to equip every soldier with top-tier weaponry. Consequently, vast numbers of spearmen filled the ranks. They were the lowest tier of the military, essentially cannon fodder. They were always deployed to the most dangerous positions, and it was with these crude weapons that the ancestors of the Chinese people repeatedly withstood the charges of the northern nomadic tribes.

Watching these spearmen, Yun Hao felt a hollow sense of sorrow. Against nomadic tribes whose strength lay in mounted archery, these spearmen were nothing but sitting ducks. But there was no help for it; when the nation was poor, the army was poor. The Creator had blessed the Huaxia people with brilliant minds and diligent hands, yet had not provided enough iron ore in this land. The Middle Kingdom had always lacked that strategic resource.

One benefit of letting one’s mind wander was the ability to forget the cold. Yun Hao felt as though his feet, encased in deerskin boots, no longer belonged to him. He dared not stomp them to restore circulation, for the numbness would instantly turn into piercing agony.

Drums began to roll, accompanied by the low, mournful sound of war horns. A large detachment of cavalry thundered into the field, led by none other than Luo Yi, the Prince of Beiping. Behind him rode eighteen fierce warriors, draped in black cloaks. Their mounts were massive, standing at least a head taller than the other horses—one could only guess where they had been sourced. Their saddles were hooked with heavy lances, two short spears were strapped to their backs, grappling hooks hung at their waists, and bows and quivers were secured to the sides of their horses. With broadswords at their hips and a pair of maces strapped to their rumps, they looked imposing and murderous.

Seeing the brothers Yuchi Nan and Yuchi Bei among them, Yun Hao realized these were the legendary Eighteen Cavalry of Yan. It was said that each was a master of the highest order; if these eighteen chose to fight to the death, even the world’s foremost warrior, Yuwen Huaji, would be forced to flee for his life.

Luo Yi leaped from his horse and, followed by the Eighteen Cavalry, ascended the high platform. His tiger-like eyes swept over the dense mass of soldiers below as he barked, "Let the duel begin!"

There was no preamble, no superfluous words. Yun Hao sensed that Luo Yi’s patience for the man named Wu Kui had reached its limit. This time, he intended to use Qin Qiong’s hand to remove a thorn that he could not otherwise extract.

As the words fell, a rider bolted from the corner of the field like a streak of lightning. Astride a yellow-maned horse, a warrior clad in chainmail gold armor and brandishing a golden mace appeared, looking truly majestic. It was none other than Qin Qiong. Had the atmosphere not been so grim, Yun Hao would have cheered aloud.

He did not know what kind of man this Wu Kui was, but it was clear that no matter who he was, he would find no easy victory against Qin Qiong.

Qin Qiong reached the center of the field and sat tall on his horse, offering a respectful salute to Luo Yi from afar. Luo Yi gave a slight nod in return. Just then, a thunderous roar erupted from the other side of the field, and a humanoid monster lumbered into view. Good heavens—was that thing even human?

The beast stood a head taller than Yao Ming. Despite the bitter cold, he was shirtless. A palm-wide leather belt studded with copper nails cinched his waist. His muscles bulged like knotted roots, and his body was covered in thick black hair, resembling a giant gorilla. Yun Hao couldn't help but suspect the creature was an evolutionary throwback. He walked on foot, likely because no horse could bear his weight—unless it were a mythical beast like a Bixie.

On his back was a bow made of yellow wood, its frame even larger than Yun Hao himself. In each hand, he gripped a copper mace the size of a watermelon, studded with rivets that would make anyone with trypophobia shudder.

Yun Hao broke into a cold sweat. A single one of those maces likely weighed more than he did, yet this man wielded two. The strength required was unimaginable. Looking at the already tall Qin Qiong, Yun Hao felt, for the first time, that he looked diminutive.

"What the hell! Is that thing even human?" Yun Hao blurted out.

"This Wu Kui is a freak of nature the Sage brought from Longyou, blessed with innate divine strength," Zhang Gongjin said, his voice grim. "They say a single swing of those maces can crush an ox. He has even torn lions and tigers apart with his bare hands; ferocious leopards are like house cats before him. This battle is a suicide mission for Shubao."

Yun Hao glanced again at Luo Yi. Truly, not a good man. To eliminate a political rival, he would even sacrifice his own nephew-in-law. Since his own son was a master, why not let Luo Cheng face this monster?

"Usually, such warriors are dim-witted. Heaven is fair; it gives them brawn, but never brains. If Captain Qin uses some trickery, he might just win," Chai Shao remarked, watching the field. Longyou had always been a land of wild frontiers, and such monsters were not unheard of. They were usually dull-witted, and with the right strategy, their brute strength could be rendered useless.

"Alas... Heaven is fair, and indeed, his brain is not very sharp. But Heaven also gave him a brother, Wu Liang, who is a genius. That man can guess your every thought just by the look in your eyes. With those two together, heh! Even the gods would be helpless." Zhang Gongjin gestured toward a lean man standing behind Wu Kui. That, presumably, was Wu Liang.

Damn! To have it all—one brother with peerless physical power, the other with supreme intelligence. Was the Creator their uncle or something?