Chapter 112: The Battlefield

In a massive battle involving tens of thousands, Li Yuan sat calmly in his chair. The enemy outnumbered him three to one, yet he appeared utterly unfazed. To him, whether it was thirty thousand men or thirty thousand pigs facing him made little difference.

Li Xiaogong brandished his heavy Dao sword, shouting a battle cry as he led his elite Dao Sword Battalion onto the field. These men wore heavy refined steel armor and wielded Dao swords weighing tens of pounds. Yun Hao thought that even if such a weapon couldn’t cut you down, being struck by it surely would. He had seen these Dao Sword troops before; they didn’t seem particularly strong, yet they wore such thick armor and handled such heavy weapons. This defied biological logic and baffled Yun Hao deeply.

A group of bare-chested, burly men charged forward. To be shirtless in the biting cold where Yun Hao had already donned a sheepskin coat required immense courage. Clearly, these men were not to be trifled with.

As the two forces collided, Yun Hao shut his eyes in terror.

The Dao Sword Formation!

Sunlight gleamed off the blades, creating a shimmer like scales of water, yet beneath that shimmer lay an endless aura of deadly intent.

The Dao Sword troops formed a dense horizontal line ahead. Their long-handled blades stood like a wall, advancing and slashing in rhythm with the drums, leaving the enemy utterly defenseless.

Historical records showed that the Dao Sword formation often played a decisive role in battles, especially against the skilled mounted archers of the northern nomads. The Dao Sword transformed the traditionally weak and limited cavalry of the Chinese armies, fully leveraging infantry strengths. It became common to witness archers and Dao Sword troops cooperating to pursue and overwhelm cavalry on the battlefield.

Training Dao Sword soldiers took many times longer than training regular infantry—at least two years. Only then could the soldiers remain as unmoved as a mountain in the face of chaos, advancing steadily like a forest, immovable as a mountain, striking like thunder, and ravaging like fire. This was why Li Yuan entrusted his nephew Li Xiaogong with leading this formidable unit.

Li Xiaogong shouted loudly, “Charge…!” All the Dao Sword soldiers lowered their faceplates and raised their massive pure steel blades. Each Dao sword weighed over seventy pounds. Swinging it down with such force, even if it didn’t cut you, it could crush you. Thousands of these heavy blades stood upright, forming a formidable wall.

The rebel peasants seemed momentarily stunned, but soon their ranks erupted into shouts and curses. After a brief hesitation, the troops surged forward like a tidal wave crashing against the Dao Sword formation. To dare charge bare-chested into a wall of blades, these men were clearly fierce warriors.

“Swish…!” The shining Dao swords rose like a wall, and the two heavy forces collided with a tremendous roar. The dazzling sunlight reflected off the blades, blinding the eyes. The leading rebels stared in horror, their crude weapons turning into laughable toys compared to the terrifying blades before them. There was no time for thought; they marched forward fiercely, only to be met by a blinding slash.

The Dao Sword soldiers moved in step with the pounding drums—step forward, slash, step, slash again...

Yun Hao’s mouth hung open in shock at the scene before him. Limbs flew, blood sprayed wildly, and the pungent stench of blood was carried by the cold wind toward him. This was his first time at a battlefield; he had imagined brutality but never this level of savagery.

The Dao Sword wave advanced like an impenetrable wall, sweeping all before it. This massive formation resembled a giant meat grinder, the blades continuously harvesting lives, leaving blood and flesh scattered across their path.

Spears looked like mere chopsticks before the Dao swords, and giant shields seemed as fragile as paper. Even the strongest warriors struck by the blades would have their spears cleaved in two by the tremendous force, followed by geysers of blood spurting into the air.

The sound of iron-shod boots crunching over twitching muscles was followed by another swing of the sword, sending yet another spray of blood aloft.

Yun Hao, standing beside Li Yuan, felt his stomach twist in nausea. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t hold back the contents of his morning meal. Not everyone could remain calm like Li Yuan, whose expression was as still as a tranquil lake despite the chaos.

Li Yuan glanced briefly at Yun Hao without a word, then turned his gaze back to the battlefield. Yun Hao even noticed him taking a deep breath, as if savoring the intense smell of blood—this man was a true anomaly!

Since ancient times, no great hero has been a kind soul. Every founding sovereign is ruthless and relentless—that much Yun Hao now believed.

The heavy armor of the Dao Sword troops was made of some unknown material. Arrows struck and left only a white mark before bouncing off. Even the sharp, triangular armor-piercing bolts became dulled upon contact. Spears jabbed at the chest plates, but either snapped or were knocked from the hands with a resounding clang.

When Yun Hao straightened once again, the Dao Sword battalion had already crushed through the burly rebels like a prehistoric beast. The ground was littered with shattered corpses, blood, and a kaleidoscope of entrails flying everywhere. The yellow earth of Jinzhong, soaked in blood, oddly took on a strange purple hue.

Iron-shod boots ground over it with a “crunch, crunch,” squeezing fresh blood from the soil with every step.

Li Yuan’s face remained impassive, seemingly unmoved by anything on the battlefield—a true sovereign radiating the aura of a mighty ruler.

The enemy began firing arrows to try to halt Li Xiaogong’s Dao Sword battalion, but the arrows seemed to strike stone. No, the gleaming armor was harder than stone. Even powerful crossbow bolts could not pierce it.

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