Chapter 130: The Feint of the Dragging Blade

Ignoring the advice of Magistrate Yang, Fei Wen led his troops to the frontier to confront the forces of the Great Xia Empire’s prince.

Eager to distinguish himself, Commander Zhang, one of Fei Wen’s subordinates, spurred his horse onto the battlefield, seeking a duel with a barbarian warrior. Li Daocheng sent Ba Latian out to meet him. Ba Latian, a member of the Dangxiang tribe’s Batu clan of the Great Xia, was a formidable and renowned general, known for his massive stature, immense strength, and skill with a spiked mace.

Having just arrived at the front, Commander Zhang did not recognize his opponent. Seeing a bald, muscular giant, he immediately sensed the man’s terrifying strength.

"What is your name, challenger?" Commander Zhang shouted, holding his blade horizontally.

"I am the Great Xia general Ba Latian. Who are you?" Ba Latian replied, pointing his mace at Zhang.

"I am Zhang Shan, a commander of the Southern Battalion of the Yongzhou Garrison," Zhang replied.

"I don't care what kind of rubbish title you hold! Take this!" With a roar, Ba Latian raised his mace and brought it crashing down.

Zhang attempted to parry with his blade, but he had grossly overestimated his own strength. A sickening crunch echoed as the impact dislocated both of his arms. His blade fell to the ground, and the mace continued its trajectory, striking Zhang squarely on the head. Even with a helmet, the blow was lethal; the head of the mace was nearly as large as Zhang's own head. A spiked iron hammer of that size ensured no survival.

The helmet was crushed, and without so much as a cry, Commander Zhang tumbled from his horse, his face and head a mask of blood. Seeing his subordinate killed, Fei Wen hurriedly ordered his men to retrieve the corpse. The commander had sought glory and promotion, but found only his death.

"Who dares to fight me next?" Ba Latian shouted, parading his horse in the center of the field after his opening victory.

"Who is willing to challenge Ba Latian?" Fei Wen asked, looking at his officers. They all kept their heads down, silent as ostriches.

After waiting in vain, Fei Wen turned to his adjutant, Bian Hongtai, who served as a chief of staff. "Bian, why don't you go and test Ba Latian?" Knowing Bian had some martial training, Fei Wen hoped he would step up. As a subordinate, Bian dared not refuse despite his reluctance. "Very well, I shall go and fight this Ba Latian," he said, feigning confidence.

Bian rode out to the field. Ba Latian saw a pale, slender man riding toward him, looking more like a Confucian scholar than a warrior, though he carried a bright, silver-tipped spear.

"State your name! My mace does not kill nameless ghosts!" Ba Latian roared.

"I am Bian Hongtai. You must be Ba Latian. Come, let us fight three hundred rounds!" Bian shouted, thrusting his spear.

They clashed, and for a while, Bian held his own. Knowing he could not match the giant’s strength, he used agility and finesse to avoid direct contact with the mace. However, Ba Latian was not just strong; he was a highly skilled warrior. After twenty rounds, as their horses passed, Ba Latian unleashed a "Sweep of a Thousand Armies," swinging his mace toward Bian’s back.

Too late to dodge, Bian tried to block by bracing his spear across his back. Ba Latian had intended to force this parry, knowing the smaller man would crumble under the force. The mace smashed into the spear shaft, shattering it and striking Bian’s back with crushing force. His breastplate’s heart protector shattered, and Bian vomited blood before falling from his horse. Li Daocheng ordered his men to capture and drag the wounded Bian back to their lines.

Having lost two rounds, Fei Wen felt a deep sense of gloom. He asked again for a challenger, but met only silence.

Finally, his gaze fell upon Huang Wenlong, the Commander-in-Chief of the Northern Battalion and the Training Commissioner of the Yongzhou Garrison. Unlike the others, Huang had earned his position through sheer merit, and his martial skills were formidable. Fei Wen believed only someone of Huang's caliber could stand against a warrior like Ba Latian.

"Brother Huang," Fei Wen said with a forced smile, "Ba Latian’s skill is peerless; no one else can handle him. Only a warrior of your talent can prevail. I must trouble you to step forward."

Unable to refuse, Huang Wenlong nodded. "Since you insist, I shall go and meet him."

Huang rode out with his blade. After exchanging names, they engaged. Knowing the giant's strength, Huang avoided direct clashes. They fought over fifty rounds without a clear winner. Growing anxious, Huang realized his stamina could not match Ba Latian’s, and he would eventually lose. He needed a strategy. He recalled the "Dragging Blade Technique" he had learned from a legendary master—a ruse where one feigns retreat to lure the enemy, only to wheel around and deliver a sudden, lethal blow.

Huang turned his horse and fled. Ba Latian, taking the bait, pursued him. Watching over his shoulder, Huang waited until the giant was close, then suddenly straightened, swung his massive blade in a wide arc, and struck toward the rear. Had it landed, Ba Latian would have been cut in two.

Shocked by the sudden counterattack, Ba Latian leaned back, lying flat against his horse's rump. Only his superb horsemanship kept him from being thrown. The blade swept inches from his stomach, slicing through the buckles of his armor. With his armor falling apart, Ba Latian dared not continue and retreated to his own lines.