Chapter 461: Arrival of the Western Relief Troops!
Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation
The marshal's aggressive tone was undeniably convincing.
no one in the entire western troop dared to doubt the words of this fellow, whom the entire Empire of Yutang acknowledged as the most brutal, unreasonable, vulgar person they knew of. He was, in fact, even disrespectful of one's ancestors.
He would keep his word!
He would definitely do what he said about setting a stone in front of the person's house for being a f*cker; he would do it exactly as he had threatened!
The elites of the western battalion charged out, howling like madmen.
All of them heard a voice from the bottom of their hearts – no one would be a f*cker, even if they were beaten to death!
If there were really to be a humiliating tomb set in front of their house… f*ck, how would their family go on with their lives?
Besides, Wang Yunzhu added something in the end that set fire to the fuel in the western soldiers' hearts.
"Fu Baoguo is the top general of Yutang's younger generation; this has been publicly acknowledged. Your father admits it as well. However, the eastern troops have always been called the top battalion of Yutang – this, your father will not admit to! I am sending you people over to take this title back for me! Your father may lose out to someone, but my subordinates can never lose out to anyone!"
"Snatch it back! Snatch it back!"
The hundred and fifty thousand men roared in unison, sending rumbles throughout the land.
The leader of the relief troop was the vanguard of the western troop, and the top general under Wang Yunzhu, Sun Zihu, had personally been called to the side by Marshal Wang before they left. Marshal Wang said earnestly, "Sunzi1! You have to remember…"
"Marshal! Can you call me by my full name? Even Huzi is fine! Don't you feel the least bit awkward calling me Sunzi?" Sun Zihu looked at his marshal with discontent written all over his bearded face.
"F*cking hell, f*ck off! Off you go! Your father was going to talk to you a bit more, but now, I've got no mood left to do so. I don't want to tell you anything now!" Wang Yunzhu kicked his favorite general out.
Sun Zihu half rolled and half flew away from the heavy boot. He picked himself up and continued on his journey.
The army then set out immediately.
Seeing the troops moving farther and farther away, Wang Yunzhu slapped the tree beside him regretfully, "I wanted to tell that fellow to bring as many brothers back alive as he can… I was so serious about it, yet that bastard doesn't share the same sentiment. If he dares to let too many brothers fall out there, your father will really turn you, Sun Zihu, into a grandson!"
The generals beside him rolled their eyes.
Doesn't share the sentiment?
Their marshal had been calling him grandson for eight years… who would share his sentiment?
He was, however, unprecedentedly serious. They had thought that Sun Zihu was giving him face by not openly arguing with him, as he would normally have.
Of course, thoughts were only thoughts; none of them spoke those thoughts aloud. After all, they all knew the marshal's sincere intention.
Until the troops had left and were no longer visible, the marshal, who was always cursing in an exceptionally rough manner, stood at the highest point to gaze at the departing men for a long time. It was like he could still see the backs of his western relief troops who were long gone; it was also as if he was looking forward to the safe return of his soldiers.
His lonesome silhouette, with his arms against his back, had his gaze trained at the distance; even when night fell, he had not moved a single step.
No one dared to go over and peek at the marshal's face. All the generals had gone back quietly.
On that night, the western basecamp was silent. It was said that the marshal was unusually inebriated from excessive drinking...
…
Sun Zihu sped along, moving faster during the first leg of his journey; he tried his hardest not to turn back.
He had been working with the marshal for eleven years, and the decade-plus a year of service had allowed him to understand the marshal's character and temper like the back of his hand.
That was how Sun Zihu knew what the marshal wanted to say when they were about to part, but he did not let the latter speak. He was afraid that he could not keep his tears in check once the marshal spoke.
He was a man, and it was embarrassing for a seven-foot-tall man to cry.
However, going to the eastern border now might be the most devastating war he had to partake in this lifetime of his; how many of the hundred and fifty thousand brothers going with him could come back alive?
No one could assure him of this.
Even Sun Zihu himself had no confidence of coming back alive!
"Marshal, if I, Sun Zihu, can still come back alive, I will still serve as your vanguard! Even if you still call me grandson by then… I… I'll still… I… F*ck, can you not call me grandson then?"
Sun Zihu wiped at his wet eyes and replied to himself inwardly, on behalf of the marshal, "F*ck you! Should your father call you grandfather if not grandson? So what if your father calls you grandson? I'm gonna call you grandson for the rest of your life, grandson… grandson…"
"F*ck it! The marshal is simply so vulgar! He won't be able to change in this lifetime!"
Sun Zihu scolded himself as he laughed, actually smiling despite his tears.
His assistant general standing beside him was also a tall and muscular man. He asked in doubt and disbelief, "General, are you crying?"
Sun Zihu roared in a fit of rage, "Son of a b*tch! You f*cking cried as well! Are your eyes used to pee! When have I cried? Bastard! Come, someone, record my words. Wang Daxiong disrespects his superior; his salary next month will be forfeited as a penalty!"
Wang Daxiong thought to himself, "Damn it! He cried, but he won't let others comment on it!"
"Punishing people for no particular reason! Doesn't he know any other tactic? Your father's three years' worth of pay has been long gone from being punished by you. If it weren't for the fact that you've taken the money and given them all away, including your own, to the fallen soldiers' family, your father would have chopped you with a saber!"
…
The trip was made in haste, the horses galloping throughout the entire day and night.
When Sun Zihu arrived at the Fortress of Resilience. leading the western relief troop, they had arrived a day earlier than the appointed time!
The western elites were exuding steam, despite the winter weather. It was already a norm of theirs because their clothes had been drenched in sweat thirty or forty times throughout the journey. They had to wear them even when they were wet, drying the cotton with their own body heat; they dared not take them off no matter how uncomfortable it was. Once they took them off to hang them to dry, the cotton would turn steel hard under the wintery weather. When that time comes, they would not be able to wear them then!
However, Sun Zihu's eyes were wide and round when he actually saw the Fortress of Resilience.
When he got there, it looked exactly like a scene where both sides had completed a battle. The land before the fort was doused in blood red.
The Fortress of Resilience, that each stationed general in the past generations would fortify repeatedly, was peppered with pockmarks everywhere from the attacks. Just the traces on the ten thousand catties of rocks that made the fort wall sent shivers down Sun Zihu's spine.
What sort of attack must it have gone through to have left such traces?
The legendary indestructible rocks were littered with cracks, while some outer layers of the rocks were forcefully peeled off.
Sun Zihu, who had been through hundreds of wars, knew very well that the circumstances that could rise to such situation – only when the attacking soldiers had gone up the city wall before they entered could such a situation happen. In other words, there were already enemy troops that had climbed up the fort wall in the battle just now; their two hands gripped the wall and they could already enter the fort with a flip of the body but it was at that moment that they were pushed down.
The strongest instinct to survive from the soldiers who were pushed down resulted in them grabbing onto anything their hands could reach, hoping to cling to something that could stabilize them. Only under such circumstances would result in the rocks being scratched off on the outside of the fort wall.
Such traces were all over the stretch of the Fortress of Resilience's wall.
How many gut-wrenching battles had this fortress ben through? It was terrifying!
Dongxuan's army was collecting their perished soldiers' remains now, outside the fort. Upon careful inspection, Sun Zihu felt a chill running down his spine. Dongxuan's fallen soldiers could no longer be carried by stretchers because the amount was far too great; there was simply not as many stretchers available.
The army had used carriages instead, putting long wide planks on them before tossing the corpses like gunny sacks onto it. A wooden carriage could take dozens of bodies piled up; if they were to toss them higher, they could fit several more bodies onto it.
Yet this was only the surface of the bodies strewn around.
Despite moving one body away, there were still many corpses below. Shedding another layer of bodies, there was another layer of them… they moved and carried the dead until they saw the reddened ground. Then, the cleanup ended.
In spite of this, the blood that still coursed on the ground and their tracks were even more frightening to contemplate.
The western troop elites sucked in a cold breath, feeling their hearts and blood run cold.
It was terribly cursed to experience such frigid temperatures!
Translator Note:
1Sun Zihu (孙子虎sūn zǐ hǔ): Character's name with Sun (孙sūn) as family name and Zihu (子虎zǐ hǔ) as a first name; the first two words Sun and Zi (孙子sūn zǐ) also mean grandson.