The Red Dragon Martial Emperor - Chapter 143

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

The Crimson Dragon Emperor — Episode 143

Chapter 143 — Crisis (4)

Yi Hwan gazed down at the surging enemy forces and slowly raised his hand.
At his signal, three thousand archers nocked arrows in unison. The shafts were crafted by a special method, potent enough to cut down even martial artists of modest skill.
Yi Hwan fixed his gaze on the enemy commander, Han Seom.
To lead the vanguard meant not only exceptional ability, but also the deep trust of the Southwest King.
‘I have chosen you as the first sacrifice of this war.’
Boom-boom-boom!
The Zhao Kingdom forces advanced to the sound of war drums. They moved at a measured pace, neither hurried nor slow, pushing toward the closest possible approach.
Yi Hwan waited for them to enter the effective range of the bows.
But then it happened.
Snap-snap-snap!
The Zhao forces drew shields from their backs in perfect synchronization. Shields woven from layers of bamboo bark possessed excellent elasticity and could withstand ordinary arrows. Moreover, their lightness allowed them to be crafted large without sacrificing maneuverability.
Yet there was no choice but to attack.
“First volley: direct shot. Immediately follow with curved shot.”
“First volley: direct shot. Immediately follow with curved shot!”
Creak-creak-creak……
The archers drew their bowstrings as one.
As Yi Hwan lowered his raised hand, three thousand arrows streaked through the air, blackening the sky.
Whoooosh!
The Zhao forces covered themselves with shields.
Thud-thud-thud-thunk!
“Argh!”
“Ugh!”
The durability of bamboo shields proved remarkable indeed. Yet even so, enemies struck by arrows fell in succession. The second volley followed close behind.
This time the casualties were far greater.
The soldiers had failed to account for the steep angle of such a heavy rain of arrows.
Thud-thud-thunk!
“Argh!”
“Gahhh!”
Whoooosh!
The Zhao forces returned fire.
The Yen soldiers quickly crouched beneath the wooden palisades.
Thud-thud-thud-thud-thunk!
Thousands of arrows lodged in the barriers, making them shudder. Archers rising to launch another volley were struck by the enemy’s staggered second wave and fell, blood spraying across the earthworks.
Thud-thud-thunk!
“Ugh!”
“Grrgh!”
Ting-ting-ting-tang!
Arrows that could not penetrate Yi Hwan’s Guardian Protective Force ricocheted in all directions.
The exchange of arrows between both sides continued relentlessly. Yet the palisades and shields prevented either force from inflicting devastating casualties.
Whooooo!
A trumpet blast suddenly sounded.
At once, the Zhao forces launched a frontal assault.
“Waaagh!”
The commanders roared.
“Once they begin climbing the hill, roll rocks and logs down upon them!”
“Hold position until they reach the hill!”
Yi Hwan slowly drew his sword.
Shhring.
Cheol Mu-ok, Ju-tae, and all the others drew their weapons and took positions to Yi Hwan’s left and right.
“If this becomes a melee, target their commanders. But don’t venture too deep into their ranks.”
“Understood.”
“Yes.”
Waaagh!
The hill leading to the Defense Line darkened as the tide of Zhao forces surged forward.
“Attack!”
“Roll the rocks!”
Rumble!
Crash, crash, crash!
Rocks and logs thundered down the hillside like the roar of a storm.
Crack!
“Aaaagh!”
“Screeeee!”
It was the most primitive method imaginable, yet devastatingly effective. The first few hundred soldiers to reach the hilltop couldn’t escape the cascade—they tumbled downward, swept along with the rocks and logs.
“Don’t fall back! Press forward!”
“Advance!”
The commanders of Zhao Kingdom urged their troops onward.
Surrounding each commander were dozens of figures dressed differently from the common soldiers—martial artists assigned to guard their generals.
Ju-tae spoke, his expression troubled.
“There are too many bodyguards around the commanders. This will be quite difficult.”
“Wait until it devolves into a melee.”
Yi Hwan kept his eyes fixed on Han Seom.
Soon the close combat would begin, a dance of blood and death. Go-mi drew her sword tight in both hands and drew a deep, steadying breath.
“Breathe in.”
Hwa Ryeong spoke softly.
“Be careful.”
Go-mi answered with a look, then steadied her breathing once more. This was her first large-scale battle, and she was wound tighter than she’d ever been in her life.
Hwa Ryeong, by contrast, watched the Zhao forces surge upward like an ant colony, a thin smile playing at her lips.
“We should at least see marriage before we die, don’t you think?”
Go-mi didn’t answer.
Shine.
Hwa Ryeong’s blade took on a luminous aura.
The first to reach the crest fell before Yi Hwan’s sword, spraying blood.
“Argh!”
“Gaaagh!”
The deaths that would echo through history had begun.

* * *

The Southwest King, Zhao Yun, sipped his wine with unhurried grace.
Yet his eyes never strayed from the battlefield for a moment.
“Their resolve is formidable.”
“The Northern Military Unit is well-known even in Yen Kingdom for their strength. The vanguard will likely suffer heavy losses.”
“Opening the gate with death—is that not the vanguard’s fate? But Han Seom is a friend who can overcome even that. Let us trust him.”
Behind Zhao Yun stood a figure like a phantom. Cloaked entirely in dark green robes from crown to sole, this person bore an unsettling resemblance to the one who attended Zhao Jeong-mu, the Southwest King’s son.
The Green Robe Person’s eyes held a chill like those of the dead, and they flickered with an eerie light as they tracked Yi Hwan’s every movement, swaying back and forth.
How much time had passed?
When seven rays of light erupted from Yi Hwan’s body, the Green Robe Person’s eyes trembled violently.
As if they recognized what it was.
That was when it happened.
A gasp of shock escaped the Southwest King’s lips.
“The Dae-ya Fortress Martial Arts!”
The Green Robe Person looked down at the Southwest King’s crown and spoke.
“Indeed. There is no doubt—those are the Dae-ya Fortress Martial Arts.”
The Southwest King shot to his feet.
“You mean the Grand Prince of Yen Kingdom is a descendant of Dae-ya Fortress?”
“Judging by the level of the martial technique, he is likely not a descendant of the fortress master himself, but a descendant of Dae-ya Fortress he most certainly is.”
What could they know?
That Yi Hwan was not merely a descendant of Dae-ya Fortress—he was the fortress master himself.
Their assessment of his martial technique’s level was partly because Yi Hwan had not yet recovered his full power, but more importantly because he had not yet unleashed his true strength.
Zhao Yun, shaken into silence for a moment, gave his command in a grave voice.
“Search to see if any descendants of the Three Kings are among them.”
“We have already located descendants of the Sword King and the Dagger King. They are fighting now to the left and right of the Grand Prince of Yen Kingdom.”
Twitch.
A thin spasm crossed Zhao Yun’s eye.
“Sound the retreat! Now!”
“Sir?”
The commanders stared at him in uncomprehending silence.
The Southwestern King’s voice cracked like a whip.
“What are you waiting for? Sound the retreat this instant!”
“Sound the retreat!”
Poooooom! Poooooom!
The long, mournful wail of the retreat horns swept across the battlefield.
One commander ventured a question.
“Your Majesty, what compels this sudden withdrawal?”
“You need not know.”
……
Zhao Yun cut off the man’s inquiry with a curt gesture, his jaw set hard as he scanned the Yen Kingdom’s defense lines with narrowed eyes.
‘If the heirs of the Sword King and the Poison King have gathered here, the heir of the Poison King must be somewhere in those lines. We would have walked straight into a massacre.’
It was true.
Zhao Yun had ordered the retreat because of the Poison King’s heir.
The Poison King was the most lethal of the Three Kings—and in a large-scale engagement like this, his poison would be nothing short of catastrophic.
‘And here I find both Dae-ya Fortress and the heirs of the Three Kings……’

* * *

“Argh!”
“Gahhh!”
Yi Hwan cut through soldiers with mechanical precision, all the while tracking Han Seom’s movements. At some point, he noticed the martial artists around Han Seom beginning to thin—they were peeling away to reinforce the struggling vanguard.
‘Just come a little closer.’
Yi Hwan waited for Han Seom to draw nearer.
Unaware that Yi Hwan was fixing him in his sights, Han Seom rallied his soldiers and pressed rapidly toward the wooden palisade.
“Now!”
“Yes!”
Yi Hwan burst through the press of soldiers, Ju-tae and Cheol Mu-ok surging forward at his side.
But the enemy ranks were so densely packed that forward progress came grudgingly, if at all.
In the end, Yi Hwan launched himself skyward, using the heads of fallen soldiers as stepping stones to reach Han Seom.
Crack! Crack! Crunch!
The skulls beneath his feet burst open like melons.
Only then did Han Seom spot him, pivoting to bring his blade to bear. Fewer than ten martial artists remained at his back.
A smile twisted Han Seom’s mouth.
“Coming at me alone? How generous. Looks as if I’ll take the Prince of Yen’s head with ease. Hehehehe.”
Shing.
Han Seom’s blade ignited with martial force.
Then it came.
Poooooom! Poooooom!
The sudden blast of retreat horns made Han Seom’s face twist in fury as he glanced back.
“A retreat?”
“General! The retreat order has been given—we must fall back at once!”
“The retreat order is sounding! Fall back!”
“Retreat!”
Commanders’ voices erupted from every direction.
Han Seom could not comprehend it. Though his vanguard had taken casualties, nothing justified such a withdrawal.
Yet retreat they did.
Then it happened.
“General!”
“Danger!”
Shouts erupted from both flanks. Only then did Han Seom recall Yi Hwan bearing down on him, and he spun desperately aside.
Flash!
A blade of white light cut through Han Seom’s field of vision, piercing straight through his neck.
Thud!
“Kuk!”
As the sword withdrew, blood erupted in a crimson fountain.
“I… I…”
Han Seom’s hand reached toward Yi Hwan as his body pitched forward. Thus fell Han Seom, the great general of Zhao Kingdom.
It was a hollow outcome born of carelessness.
“General!”
Crack!
“Gasp!”
“Argh!”
Cheol Mu-ok, Ju-tae, and the warriors of Yi Hwan’s lineage swept aside those rushing toward him.
The enemy were masters not to be dismissed, and several of Yi Hwan’s men bled from the encounter.
But with Han Seom dead and the retreat order given, the enemy martial artists soon began to flee.
“Fall back!”
Yi Hwan and the others returned to the wooden palisade.
“Why are they retreating?”
“Has someone attacked their rear?”
Yi Hwan shook his head, watching the enemy withdraw.
‘The battle was nearly balanced—why would they order a retreat?’
He couldn’t understand it.
Even if the tide had turned against them, the standard response was to commit reserves from behind for support.
Yi Hwan had calculated for exactly that and prepared a stratagem accordingly. Yet the enemy had fallen back without properly engaging.
A roar erupted.
The warriors of Yen Kingdom raised their voices in triumph.
Yi Hwan fixed his gaze on Zhao Yun.
He too was looking this way.
“What has happened? Why are the enemy withdrawing?”
Jeong Cheon approached.
He had come running after seeing the enemy fall back, having been preparing an ambush out of sight according to Yi Hwan’s plan.
“It appears some internal trouble has arisen among the enemy.”
“I hope it proves to be something significant.”
“First, see to gathering the wounded.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Yi Hwan sought out Song Cheon-mu and Cha Jung-gyeong. The two were already approaching him.
Both were drenched in blood, breathing heavily.
“Are you injured?”
“I’m fine!”
“I’m well too.”
Next came Go-mi and Hwa Ryeong. They too were covered in blood from head to toe, but fortunately bore no wounds.
Click.
Yi Hwan at last sheathed his blade and turned away.
“We don’t know when they’ll attack again, so rest as much as you can.”
“Yes!”
Yi Hwan climbed to the highest point of the Defense Line, where a small guardpost stood sheltered from the rain. From the post’s edge, he looked toward Zhao Yun again. But Zhao Yun had vanished from his original position.
Go-mi approached.
“Drink this.”
“Thank you.”
Yi Hwan wetted his throat with the drink Go-mi offered.
Go-mi spoke.
“The other defense lines are still engaged. Shouldn’t we go to their aid?”
“This position holds the elite forces of the Southwest King—the strongest among them. We cannot spare troops when we don’t know when they’ll strike again.”
“…Yes.”
Yi Hwan drained the rest of the drink in one go and moved to the edge of the guardpost to survey the enemy camp. The ridge darkened entirely by the enemy was so vast that merely looking upon it was enough to break the spirit of an ordinary man.
What if that grand prince advanced all at once?
Even the thought sent a chill racing through his entire body.
‘What are you plotting, Zhao Yun?’

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————