Chapter 76: Bloody Battle

Thunder Tiger, surrounded by dozens of garrison soldiers, fought desperately, wielding his waist blade to cut down two enemy cavalrymen in quick succession. With forty taels of silver now his, he let out a roar, cast aside his blunted blade, and snatched up a spear, thrusting it at an armored foe.

This one was unlike the common enemy—he was clad in heavy armor and showed no panic. With a swing of his round shield, he knocked the spear aside, stepped forward, and drove his own blade straight at Thunder Tiger's chest.

The sharp edge sliced easily through flesh, leaving a deep, bloody wound. Yet Thunder Tiger did not retreat; instead, he pressed forward, discarding the spear and hurling himself at the armored soldier. The two men rolled across the wooden walkway, grappling and exchanging brutal blows.

The armored man's heavy gear slowed him. He was soon pinned beneath Thunder Tiger, whose massive fists pounded his face until blood frothed from nose and mouth. With hair wild and eyes bloodshot, Thunder Tiger grabbed the fallen shield, bellowed, and smashed it down upon his foe’s face—a sickening crack told of a skull shattered.

Barely had Thunder Tiger collapsed, spent, to the ground when another enemy lunged at him with a spear. He lacked the strength to dodge, staring wide-eyed at the weapon's tip. In that instant, a javelin streaked through the air, piercing the attacker’s chest and pinning him where he stood.

Thunder Tiger turned toward Li Yi, who stood not far away, a grin breaking through the blood and grime on his face as he shouted, “Li Yi! I’ve killed three of them!”

“Thirty taels in reward—come find me after the battle!” Li Yi called back without turning, massaging his aching shoulder, short spear in hand, already searching for his next target.

Though Li Yi’s javelins supported the embattled defenders, more and more enemies swarmed up the fortifications. Under the command of Hairigu, they targeted the archers first.

Li Zicheng, unable to hold with arrows alone, cast aside his bow and drew his blade, joining the melee. Below the walls, Batur Taiji ordered his cavalry to dismount and attack. Arrows rained from below, pinning the garrison soldiers, who fell to hidden shafts and could not stem the tide of attackers climbing the works.

With more armored elites joining the fray, casualties among the defenders mounted; in less than a quarter hour, over fifty had fallen. Some, unable to bear the slaughter, tried to flee down from the works.

Li Yi saw the danger clearly. If the enemy was not expelled, the line would collapse. Yet the endless assault left no opportunity. He needed a diversion, a force to sally forth and block the enemy from climbing higher.

Gripping his tiger-fang spear, he called down to Liu Zongmin, “Drive the military officials out—whoever retreats, kill without mercy!”

Liu Zongmin, long eager to join the fight, quickly gathered his men and forced the terrified officials to the side of the works, clearing away piled furniture to reveal a passage.

“How dare you! We are officials of the court!” the deputy commander shrieked, legs trembling.

Liu Zongmin ignored him, ordered his men to drive the officials out, then followed with his own troops. The officials, thinking themselves alone, froze in place. The young braves cast down the officers’ weapons.

Liu Zongmin glared murderously. “I despise you dog officials. If you go out and fight, I’ll fight with you side by side. But if anyone flees, I’ll cut off his head. Do you understand?”

The officials reluctantly picked up their weapons, glancing hesitantly at Liu Zongmin and his men, eyes flickering with spiteful hatred. Yet seeing Li Yi above, watching coldly, they felt a chill down their spines and suppressed their malice.

The commander who had previously cooperated gritted his teeth and said, “Dead if we flee, dead if we fight. Today, I’ll fight the enemy—better to die for my children’s future!” With that, he raised his weapon and charged at the enemy.

The others, after a moment’s hesitation, screamed and followed suit. Liu Zongmin and his squad of braves followed close behind.

On the fortifications, the melee raged. More and more enemies climbed up.

Suddenly, a group of well-armored shock troops struck from the flank, catching the enemy off guard and throwing them into chaos. Though pampered, the officials had some martial skill and stamina, and clad in fine armor and wielding sharp weapons, they managed to repel a hundred-strong enemy cavalry squad and block the assault below the works.

Li Yi would not let such an opportunity slip. He waved his tiger-fang spear and shouted to Gao Jie, “Follow me!” Gao Jie brought twenty archers in his wake.

Where the garrison held, fifty or sixty enemies had already stormed up, half of them armored or half-armored soldiers. Thunder Tiger and his men fought desperately, trying to push them back, but the enemy’s ferocity forced them to give ground.

Hairigu led the armored troops in relentless assaults, his polearm slashing and hacking. Garrison soldiers fell, arms cut clean through, writhing and screaming in agony. The armored men showed no mercy, skewering the fallen with their spears; in moments, five or six more defenders died.

“Die!” Thunder Tiger, wounded and bloodshot, shoved aside a comrade, charged Hairigu, and hacked at his arm, hoping to avenge his brothers in kind. But Hairigu parried and kicked Thunder Tiger aside, his blade stabbing forward.

“Brother, look out!” cried a thin, frail defender, lunging at Hairigu with a spear. Hairigu grinned cruelly, swung his blade, and decapitated him, blood spraying everywhere.

In the crimson rain, Thunder Tiger, eyes wild, rushed Hairigu like a demon, knocking him to the ground. The two giants wrestled and smashed into the surrounding men, who recoiled.

But Thunder Tiger, bleeding from two wounds and weakened by hunger, soon took a hard knee to the head and rolled away, reeling. His comrades tried to rescue him, but the armored enemy blocked their way.

Hairigu, sneering, strode over, grabbed Thunder Tiger’s hair, and punched him in the face. Blood streaming, Thunder Tiger stared at him, then jabbed a broken spearhead into Hairigu’s shoulder.

Hairigu screamed, drew his skinning knife to behead Thunder Tiger—but chaos erupted behind him. He turned to see a brave young Ming soldier, tiger-fang spear in hand, cutting down foe after foe. An armored man with twin axes blocked him, but in a blink, the spear pierced his chest and hurled him from the works.

“It’s the Demon God—the one who killed Mianantu!” someone cried. Mianantu, in Mongol, meant the commander of a thousand—a reference to the bearded chieftain.

The enemy stared at Li Yi in fear, clutching their weapons. Li Yi withdrew his spear, pointed it at the foes, and roared, “Kill with me!” Then he charged ahead, his spear a dragon in flight, felling three half-armored men in a row.

Two armored soldiers attacked from both sides, but in a flash, Li Yi knocked aside their weapons and swept the spearhead—one man’s head was shorn in half, brains and blood spraying, while the other, terrified, tried to retreat, only to have his throat pierced, his neck torn open.

Such violence and gore sent the enemy reeling in terror.

“I’ll handle this,” Hairigu shouted, driving his blade into Thunder Tiger’s chest, then tossing him aside and advancing on Li Yi. An attendant handed him a polearm. Hairigu rushed forward, aiming a chop at Li Yi's neck.

Facing the burly foe, Li Yi raised his spear coldly. The steel tip clashed with the blade.

Hairigu’s hand went numb from the shock. Reflexively, he lunged at Li Yi, hoping to use his strength to bowl him over, but Li Yi held his ground. The two crashed together—Hairigu felt as if he’d struck a wall, and his face changed. He slashed with his blade, but Li Yi, having already read his sluggish moves, twisted aside at the last instant, letting the blade whistle past—and drove the spear up under Hairigu’s jaw, through the top of his skull.

With a violent twist, the ugly head was shredded, reduced to fragments. Death was gruesome and complete.

The enemy blanched, legs trembling. But Li Yi showed no hesitation. “Slaughter them all!” he shouted.

The archers advanced with shields raised, spears and wolf-forks stabbing. In moments, half the fifty or sixty attackers lay dead or dying. The rest fled in panic, scrambling down the works, fleeing in terror.

Those too slow tossed aside their weapons and surrendered on the spot.

Li Yi forbade the garrison from killing prisoners. He told Gao Jie, “Lock them in an empty house and post guards.” Gao Jie hurried to comply.

The garrison soldiers, after such a battle, collapsed, exhausted. A dozen gathered around Thunder Tiger, weeping in grief and hatred.

Li Yi had seen clearly: without Thunder Tiger’s desperate stand, this section would have fallen, and the enemy would have surged up in force, beyond hope of reprieve.

He stepped forward, and the defenders parted respectfully before him. After the battle, they were utterly convinced by Li Yi’s valor and prowess.

“You’re gravely wounded,” Li Yi said, kneeling by Thunder Tiger and eyeing the dagger buried in his chest, blood soaking through thick cloth—an unmistakably mortal wound.

Thunder Tiger’s chest heaved, but there was no fear in his eyes. Even now he managed a crooked smile: “Li Yi, I killed four of them. You owe me forty taels of silver.”

Seeing the pallor on Thunder Tiger’s face and the fading color of his lips, Li Yi nodded. “Forty taels for enemies slain, and twenty taels for joining the fight. I’ll personally deliver it to your family.”

Thunder Tiger’s eyes eased at this, and he shook his head with effort, pointing at the corpses of his comrades. “Leave twenty taels for my wife and children. The rest—give it to the families of my fallen brothers.”

The soldiers at his side broke down weeping. One burly man fell to his knees, pleading, “My lord, please save my elder brother—I beg you, save him!”

Li Yi shook his head sadly. “The blade has pierced his organs. Pull it out and he’ll bleed to death. Leave it, and his body will fail. Not even a god can save him now.”

The garrison understood. They gazed at Thunder Tiger in sorrow, gathering close so he would not die alone.

Before long, Thunder Tiger breathed his last.