Beginning with the Ubume Bird - Chapter 65

Chapter 65: Chapter 19 A Small Taste of Great Skill

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That night.

Two torches stuck in the cracks of the earthen wall were alight, the flames flickering weakly, a great big banner with the character “Li” unfurls in the wind above the campgrounds.

In the viscous night, as dark as ink, riding on a Black Mane Warhorse and wearing a black eye patch, Fujiwara’s lips were tightly pressed together.

Behind him were several hundred Japanese soldiers armed with swords, spears, and bows, lying prone on the slopes, silent as crows scattered across the hills and fields.

The sound of the plowed earth whispered, and the night raid team, handpicked by Konishi Yukinaga, spread out like the dark shadows that swiftly envelop after sunset, rushing towards the Ming Army Camp!

Fujiwara took the longbow passed to him by a subordinate, pulled out three feathered arrows from his quiver, aimed at the watchtower, his thumb pressing hard against the bowstring, his eyes filled with a chilling intent.

“Twang~”

The arrows flew off the string, the first arrow knocking over a torch and sending sparks flying, the second buried its head into a crack in the earthen wall, the flame snuffed out by the swirling wind, and in the ensuing gloom, the final arrow hissed towards the colossal “Li” character flagpole in the camp!

“Whoosh!”

A brief arrowhead tore through the air, shredding the darkness, and it sliced the arrow aimed at the Li character flag into two pieces!

In the pitch-black darkness, where one couldn’t see their own hands, Song Yi, carrying a bright red banner on his shoulder, eyes sharp as a hawk’s, put down his short bow and gave Fujiwara, who had shot the three arrows, an icy smirk!

“Damn it!”

Fujiwara’s face turned pale with shock.

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The Ming Army surged from both sides like a tide, and Shen Heyan’s tiger-like roar echoed across the camp.

“Extinguish!”

Black arrows soared toward the Japanese pirates, accompanied by the hissing of gunpowder explosions, and a rain of bronze pellets shot through the sparks.

A swath of Japanese pirates fell, clutching their wounds, abruptly ambushed, yet the group led by Fujiwara didn’t break but charged headlong into the Ming Army’s volley of arrows, risking their lives!

Shen Heyan, typically the first to charge, displayed a remarkably calm military quality this time, directing the first squad of gun troops to fall back and reload, allowing the squad behind them to step up, all the while having soldiers wielding four-meter Wolf Halberds resist the charge of the Japanese pirates.

Fujiwara, holding two long-handled field greatswords, wearing a feather cloak over his armor that was half-destroyed by the lingering flames. Seeing that his opponents had no intention of engaging him at close quarters, while his own soldiers were being cut down like wheat by rounds of arrows and gunfire, he knew it was a lost cause. Atop Pyongyang City walls, approximately three thousand iron gun troops were ready to cover him; retreating now would preserve at least half of his forces…

With this thought, Fujiwara no longer hesitated, ordering the rear guard to turn front and to pull out.

“Sir, they’re running!”

A sharp-eyed junior officer called out.

Shen Heyan was unconcerned, “That’s no longer my concern~”

A bout of uncontrollable warhorse neighing rose from behind the Japanese pirates, as Li Yan, clad in chain armor, rested a black spear shaft against his elbow, with seventy or eighty Dawan horses with blue coats trampling the frozen earth and blocking Fujiwara’s and the others’ path.

Deng Tianxiong and Wang Sheng, among others, rode on horseback, spread out their forces. Like a nail, they fixed the Japanese pirates in place before them.

“Advance, Wolf Halberdier Team!”

As Fujiwara looked on grimly, Shen Heyan behind him commanded, and the ironclad Ming Army slowly closed in, preparing for a pincer attack.

Li Yan turned his head to the side, realizing it had only been seven or eight days since he entered the Yan Fu event, yet he now controlled nearly a hundred horsemen.

“To see how far I can go in this Yan Fu event, it’s up to this foundation of troops…”

“Watch out, sir!”

Deng Tianxiong shouted as Fujiwara’s blade came slashing down!

“Kill!”

Deng Tianxiong thrust his Hook and Sickle Spear forward, and the blue-maned cavalry pierced the Japanese pirate formation like a sharp sword, the muffled sound of blades cutting through flesh accompanied by a flurry of white snowflakes ringing in the air.

“Clang.”

Appearing distracted, Li Yan’s right hand miraculously lifted to intercept the descending katana, his spear blade rising from below to parry the tachi, the hook of the blade catching the flat of the sword. Fujiwara roared in fury, and his left-handed blade swept horizontally towards Li Yan’s right ear. A black aura rose from behind him, tangible yet formless, indistinguishable in shape.

Name: Fujiwara Michi (Saber Cavalry General)

Specialization: Military Skill 76%

Ability: Great Tachi Ghost Slash (enhanced by Demonic Strength)

Remarks: A Hatamoto Warrior under a Daimyo, also a noble, endowed with a trace of Demonic Strength for protection, which can be used to nullify certain levels of combat damage, but also to boost attack power. The individual before him clearly belonged to the latter category.

Whether the Dragon Tiger Qi of the Great Ming or the Demonic Strength of Japan, in the end, they’re the same thing, a miraculous product unique to the Yan Fu Fruit.

Just like Li Yan’s Gu Huo Bird inheritance, Dragon Tiger Qi is a transcendental system full of countless mysteries, and according to records from those who have traveled through Yan Fu, those with an inheritance who obtain Dragon Tiger Qi are significantly empowered as though a tiger had gained wings.

Li Yan held his spear across, grunting as he took Fujiwara’s hit, his palm going numb, surprised that he hadn’t encountered such strength ever since strengthening his Gu Huo Bird powers.

This time he left, he expected to at least snatch a seventh-rank Marshal position to take a good look at what mystery this Dragon Tiger Qi really held. Li Yan flicked his wrist, jabbed the spear tip upward, and thought to himself.

Suddenly, Fujiwara let out a strange scream, bringing the two Great Tachis together, lifting them high with both hands as the purple-black veins on his arms bulged, and his eyes protruded roundly like a fierce ghost’s.

Great Tachi Ghost Slash!

Li Yan’s eyes grew fierce, and the black spear shaft suddenly quickened several times over. Sparking fringes flew off like fireworks, and the gleaming spearhead frenziedly licked Fujiwara’s flesh—his neck, chest, thighs—puncturing seven or eight bloody holes in an instant.

Fujiwara Michi’s throat made a gurgling noise as he fell from his horse to the ground, never managing to deliver that slash before dying.

Li Yan slapped the spear shaft on the horse’s rump, the spear flourished and weaved as he disappeared into the midst of the enemy ranks.

…

Outside the city, the killing shouts gradually subsided, and thousands of iron gun forces eagerly awaited the returning raiders and pursuing Great Ming troops, but they never saw a shadow.

Pyongyang City inside was desolate, like a realm of ghosts.

After the Japanese captured Pyongyang, they slaughtered mercilessly. The bodies clogged the rivers, and later when Li Rusong captured Pyongyang, he found the vast city populated only by a few thousand weak women and children…

Konishi Yukinaga spent a sleepless night, tossing and turning as he pondered how to break the siege.

The few thousand troops at Peony Peak were out of contact, morale inside the city was low, reinforcements from Geoje Island were long overdue, and Kuki Yoshitaka had proven to be useless, fleeing in panic from a no-name like Li Suncheng, almost causing the Joseon inland supply lines to fall and forcing himself into this predicament.

“Just a little more time would be nice, as long as we can hold out for a bit longer…”

“Hey, Konishi old man, are you asleep?”

Behind the paper-paneled window, a shadow holding a long sword called out to the inside.

Upon hearing the noise outside, the powdered courtesan involuntarily shivered, and Konishi Yukinaga opened his eyes, sitting up from the woman’s thighs.

“Hidetada brat, it’s so late, what do you want with me?”

The door was pushed open with a clatter, and a large, horned Evil Ghost’s head was thrown in, rolling with eyes wide in terror, as if it had seen something even more frightening than itself before dying.

“These kinds of things are becoming more frequent in the city, old man; you better tell your men to restrain themselves a bit!”

While saying this, he strode in, touched the obediently sitting kimono-clad woman’s rear end, and said with a sneer, “Especially idiots like Endo and Sakata, who only cause trouble for me. It would be much easier if I chopped off their heads.”

This man was dressed in a white monk’s robe, in his early twenties, with black leg bindings, a shaved head, and twelve prayer scars on his crown. He carried a black wide-blade katana on his shoulder, exuding an indescribable aura of malevolence.

A young Japanese monk carrying a long sword?

“Such minor ghosts can’t be causing you trouble, right? After all, back home, um…”

Konishi suddenly stopped talking, sighed, and then said, “Anyway, I’ll make sure the men understand.”

The monk named Hidetada cocked his head and sat down on the tatami. He casually grabbed some dried fish from a plate and popped it into his mouth.

“Speaking of which, old man, could you figure out a way to get me out of Pyongyang?”

“Why is that, Hidetada?”

Konishi Yukinaga was somewhat displeased but still asked patiently.

“Because it’s dangerous outside, there are the Great Ming troops. Staying here means either I get blown up by cannons or beheaded,” Hidetada Osho said, rubbing his temples in frustration.

“You lot who have lived so long, prepared to die by seppuku without regrets, but I sure don’t want to just die on the battlefield like this.”

“Damn, do you even deserve to be a descendant of the Hidetada family?”

The monk glanced sideways and muttered, “Anyway, if the city falls, I’ll be slipping away on my own.”

“Oh, right,” Hidetada added as if he remembered something. “Fujiwara’s unit has been completely wiped out~”

“What? I clearly… damn it.”

Konishi Yukinaga took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing his feelings of defeat.

“Anyway, if things become desperate, I’ll help you escape from the city. The Kobayakawa’s are already… I can’t let you die here without rhyme or reason.”

“That would be more than great~”

Hidetada stood up.

He furrowed his brows and seemed about to say something more but then shook his head.

“Never mind, with the pride of the Great Ming people, they shouldn’t care about such things. There shouldn’t be any problems.”

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