General Yan Pei, sat his massive warhorse in the center of his formation, General Cui BoFeng beside him. Two of his heavy infantry units began to rumble forward.

  We were a force of less than a hundred, most without any armor. Against such a foe, a textbook assault by two of his combined arms infantry units, nearly four hundred men, was more than enough. A sharp dip of his banner was the only order given.

  We were too small to be effectively engaged with any more than that, there simply wasn't enough surface area for more troops to engage without an effective encirclement.

  Two of the foremost units detached themselves from the main formation and advanced towards us. They did not run, they marched, a single beast of flesh and steel, their shields locked and their spears a bristling forest held at a perfect, steady angle. Unit commanders, wearing capes and with shining armor, led from the front rank. This was the disciplined fist of the northern frontier.

  My own heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drum. My hand tightened on the reins of my horse, the leather slick with my sweat.

  “Lu,” I said, my voice firm and clear, “Check those heavy cavalry, do not approach within range of the archers.”

  Lu Chengfeng needed no further instruction. With a sharp, whistled command, the Wolves spurred their horses, peeling away from our flank. They deftly navigated between the broken lines of our ditches, allowing them to extend out with little difficulty. A pack of hunters flowing towards a herd of armored giants. The Youzhou heavy cavalry, seeing the movement of their lesser armored opponents, began a ponderous turn to intercept.

  The Wolves fanned out. They closed to within forty paces, and formed an oblique line with their side profile to the incoming cataphracts. Then, the morning's quiet was shattered by the first clap of our new thunder.

  The line of SanYanChong erupted, a blossom of fire and smoke. On the opposite side of the Youzhou cataphracts, encased in overlapping plates of iron, were simply punched from their saddles. Horses, also caught in the hail of steel broke and fell, throwing their heavy riders to the ground.

  The heavy cavalry's disciplined line faltered but they tried to give pursuit. They had no answer; their heavy spears were useless at this range, and they lacked the bows to retaliate against the circling, fast-moving Wolves. Their heavy armor limited them to a trot, while the wolves peeled away to reengage at their pleasure.

  But my attention was needed close by. The Youzhou infantry was closing. A hundred and fifty paces out, their archers halted as one. Bows were drawn in perfect unison. For a heartbeat, the sky was peppered with black-feathered shafts.

  A deafening, percussive drumming that vibrated through the earth and in my chest. Arrows slammed into the heavy tower shields we had planted before our lines. Some troops took cover under smaller pavise shields. Then came the second wave, the heavier, armor-piercing bolts from their crossbowmen, a sharp, metallic thunk-thunk-thunk that punched deep into the wood but could not break through. The final, terrifying volley was a combined storm of both, at 50 paces. Our shields were now bristling hedgehogs of wood and steel, but not a single man behind them had fallen.

  They closed closer and the archers and crossbowmen drew their dāo and fell back into the formation. The front ranks of heavy infantry, their shields raised, advanced with planks of heavy wood, which they threw across our first ditch with practiced efficiency. Still their formation became clustered around these bridges as the men started to cross. A second, deeper ditch faced them, with a few open spots the Wolves took to cross. Now they were within 20 paces, the heavy infantry at the front started to spread out again to cover their still crossing lighter troops.

  A high, piercing trill from Wei Jin's whistle cut through the air, a sound so unlike the boom of a war drum that it seemed to momentarily confuse the charging enemy. It was our signal.

  From the narrow gaps between the tower shields, the triple barrels of our own SanYanChong were leveled. A wall of fire and acrid white smoke erupted from our line as twenty shots discharged.

  Then another volley, and a third thundered. At this range, they couldn't even miss.

  Heavy infantry were supposed to form the line, they were the shield behind which the less armored could take cover behind.

  The front rank of the Youzhou heavy infantry disintegrated. Laminar plates, forged to turn aside swords and spears, shattered like pottery. Heavy shields were torn from men's arms and blasted into splinters. Men were not pierced; they were blown apart, their disciplined charge dissolving into a red mist of blood.

  Over penetration meant that the shots caused collateral damage, steel balls piercing those in the second rank as well. None of them had hearing protection. The survivors clutched their bleeding ears.

  The commanders, and many squad leaders, of both units were amongst the first to fall. But the unit did not rout.

  Through the thinning haze, I watched in grim admiration as surviving Youzhou sergeants, bellowed orders to retreat in good order. We did not pursue and they quickly retreated behind the ditch lines, reserve heavy infantry brought forward to fill the missing spots.

  Even so, these units had lost a fair chunk of their leadership, and pulled back towards the hexagon to lick their wounds.

  General Yan's banner fluttered as it delivered new commands. Two fresh infantry units detached from his main force and advanced to a hundred paces from us and halted. Arrows and bolts flew towards us as these units covered the retreat of the two damaged ones. Reserves, centrally positioned, started to replenish their numbers.

  The third, remaining unit of infantry, broke from the main formation. They did not march towards us. They began a wide, sweeping march to the south, clearly intending to bypass our fortified line entirely and assault the undefended village from its southern flank. I whistled a message out to alert Lu Chengfeng.

  The sky darkened once more. General Yan was spending arrows as if they were water, determined to whittle us down. This was no opening volley; this was a sustained suppression.

  A man grunted as an arrow found his misplaced foot punching through the leather of his boot and pinning his foot to the earth. A second man took a bolt to his forehead as he peeked at the enemy from behind his shield.

  “Into the trench!” I roared, my voice raw. “Shields up for cover!” I blew the same command on my whistle.

  Our men scrambled from the forward ditch back to the deeper, closer ditch, taking shields with them. Under the continuous barrage several men fell for the withering hail.

  The shield-bearers, without being told, turned their massive tower shields into a makeshift roof, bracing them against the lips of the ditch and creating a cramped, wooden-roofed tunnel. The rain of iron and wood hammered down on our cover, splintering the shields but finding no flesh. We were pinned, but we were alive. Under the relative safety of our wooden sky, the designated men began the slow, methodical process of reloading the SanYanChong, their hands moving with a practiced, steady rhythm.

  I had two shield bearers next to me prop their shields up a little higher so I could peer out and keep an eye on the battlefield. I reasoned it's be hard for a projectile to hit me at this elevation. Xiao Kai settled in beside me.

  Out on the plain, the cavalry engagement had become a dance where the Wolves dictated the rhythm. Lu Chengfeng's riders would unleash a deafening blast from their firearms before melting away again, reloading in the saddle. The Youzhou heavy cavalry, unable to close the distance and lacking any ranged weapons to retaliate, could only endure the harassment, their numbers steadily shrinking as man after armored man was blasted from his saddle.

  But the younger general, Cui BoFeng, had a sharp eye. I watched from our trench as his banner relayed a series of complex signals. The heavy cavalry did not retreat from the field, but pulled back methodically, consolidating their remaining force into a tight, defensive block well within range of their own infantry's archers.

  The wolves lacked the armor needed to close the gap. A stalemate had been forced on the flank. The wolves slowed to a trot and Lu scanned the battlefield for opportunities.

  The bypassing detachment reached the outskirts of the village. As the village had no wall they were able to march directly into its streets. It was clear they were expecting minimal resistance, or at least nothing that could pierce their heavy infantry's armor.

  As they entered the village, their formation couldn't fit onto a single street so they were forced to split into teams. From my angle, I could see some teams begin to enter doorways of homes, blades drawn.

  Suddenly, with a roar they were ambushed from every alley and rooftop. I couldn't make out who was attacking them on the streets but it was clearly the bandits, those recovering in the temple who were attacking from the rooftops with their throwing knives and darts. I could see the rear ranks of the Northern army slow, given their lighter armor. They started to retreat, both sides suffering casualties as the army struggled in the tighter space.

  Lu Chengfeng saw this too. He wheeled his cavalry, a fluid, deadly arc of motion, moving the Wolves to become the hammer to the village's anvil.

  The Youzhou commander, surprised by the ferocity of resistance, gave a command for a fighting withdrawal. His unit retreated from the village until they were a few hundred paces away and regrouped into a square formation. I could see some village guards give chase before a small figure in a blue silk dress recalled them. The villagers and bandits scattered into the building as the reformed army started peppering the village with arrows. Lu ChengFeng, seeing the disengage and the square, broke off and didn't enter the range of those arrows.

  General Yan watched this unfold and motioned to his entourage. Two of his personal guards rode out to the commanding officer of the detachment and, without a word, cut him down. A brutal, public execution for failure. The Youzhou heavy cavalry, having been bled by the Wolves and now with their space constrained idled near their own lines.

  The arrow storm pinning us down finally began to thin, their quivers running low. This was the opening I had been waiting for.

  I roared. "Deploy forward! YuanYangZhen! Advance in column!”

  A series of shrill blasts relayed the command. Our men exploded from the trench. The tower shields to the front tucked behind them, LangXian and long spears behind. The gunners, having reloaded, stood closely behind, using smaller shields to cover themselves from arching fire. Five squads advanced, with comfortable spacing between them.

  As we closed enemy archers retreated behind their heavy infantry line.

  We closed the distance to thirty paces, and the whistles trilled again. The formation expanded, polearms and gunners spreading out laterally into the standard YuanYang formation. Before us were the two suppressing formations. The original two damaged units behind them.

  “Loose formation” I heard enemy officers yell.

  “Target officers and armored” Wei Jin ordered. “Two shots”

  We closed to ten paces, enemy heavy infantry, from two fresh formations flinched visibly as our SanYanChong barrels were brought up. An officer covered his ears. The volley tore through their armor, ripping a bloody hole in their center. Unfortunately there was significantly less collateral damage, with their men spread out instead of clustered. A second volley sent the heavily armored frontline staggering backward towards and the entire formation took a few paces back.

  The last shot was saved, having practiced taking turns while others were reloading.

  I was about to order “Back to the defensive line” when I noticed it was already too late. The two infantry units that we'd initially beat back had already begun their encirclement. General Yan had moved quickly, replacing lost commanders with fresh leaders from his staff.

  We were about to be surrounded.

  “Circular formation!” I ordered, Wei Jin repeating it and whistling commands relaying it throughout our force.

  The squads pivoted, forming a loose pentagram in an outward-facing circle. From the gaps, a forest of LangXian hooks and spear points emerged. It was a bristling, fortress in a sea of enemies.

  The enemy attacked slowly and carefully. Each time a SanYanChong swung their way men ducked or flinched backward. The heavy infantry especially, their numbers diminished, were hesitant to push forwards, lacking their earlier confidence. We staggered our shots, trying to buy time for gunners to reload, saving our limited ammo for those in heavy armor.

  The new unit commanders stood closer to the center of their formations than to the front as they normally would. Still, our men started to fall, one of the team's swordsmen was cut down as a bold heavy infantryman made it past the polearms. His partner fought to stall the armored giant until finally diving back as the SanYanChong was brought to bear.

  Slowly the circle was closing and enemy spears started to reach our shields and our lines. Our numbers continued to fall, and we re-consolidated from 5 teams to 4, with a handful of extra gunners in the middle. Wei Jin and I replaced fallen swordsmen personally to plug holes.

  A lance of pure, white-hot fire shot through my left shoulder as a spear thrust made it past my guard. I grunted, the impact staggering me, but the adrenaline was a raging inferno in my veins, burning away the pain. That was the cost of doffing my armor.

  I stepped back and put pressure on my wound, scanning the field for Xiao Kai's progress.

  Xiao Kai was a figure in black steel mounted on my own warhorse that burst from the western side of the village. Ignored by the enemy, she did not charge the main melee. She galloped towards the enemy generals, a single, solitary rider on a desperate mission, her masked face pointed directly at the enemy command.

  The heavy cavalry tried to intercept her. Lu ChengFeng took his wolves into arrow range to check them, letting off one volley before arrows took several wolves to the ground. Still the Heavy Cavalry's movement was slowed.

  From the village, a new wave of shouting erupted. The ragged army of bandits and village guards she had rallied surged out to slam into the unengaged fifth Youzhou unit that had also run low on arrows. Her lightly-armed forces, lacking discipline and armor, were cut down in droves by the professional soldiers. But they fought with the courage of desperation tying down a full fifth of the enemy army in a brutal, bloody brawl. Lady Feng watched from the edge of the village, a look of utter horror on her face.

  Xiao Kai rode through the chaos, a single-minded missile of dark steel. The reserve cavalrymen guarding the generals saw her coming, a lone rider rushing towards them. Arrows and crossbow bolts streaked towards her, but the black lacquered armor held at this range, the projectiles skittering off my cuirass or deflected off of my sheets of pauldrons. Her dark steel jiàn was a blur, deflecting the few bolts aimed at her horse's head, her entire focus on closing the distance. There were still too many enemies between her and her targets. It was a single person against a tide.

  Then I noticed something that surprised me.

  On the low hill to the northwest, behind the Youzhou generals, a new force appeared. It was our wagon train. Layla, a striking figure in white linen, stood atop the lead wagon on her own two legs and in a brilliant flowing dress. Beside her, Xiao Qi held a banner high. They began to circle the wagons, kicking up a massive cloud of dust, their small number of smiths and camp followers moving from cart to cart to create the illusion of a much larger force preparing to charge the enemy's exposed rear. A few SanYanChong shots rang out, presumably from unfinished prototypes, although given the distance they didn't have any actual effects.

  Twenty heavy cavalrymen peeled away from Xiao Kai's path, wheeling their mounts to form a defensive line against the phantom threat on the hill.

  That left just ten.

  Xiao Kai hit their line like a thunderbolt. On horseback, she drew the SanYanChong that hung like a halberd on my military saddle. One sent the heavy cavalry scattering, the second much closer blew clean through two of the men, blowing a hole in their lines.

  Her superior skill was magnified by her superior mobility. She weaved her horse between theirs, as they scattered, anticipating a final shot. With her robes billowing with Qi in the windless air she held the SanYanChong like a mallet and slammed it into the chest of another rider, sending the armored man flying off his horse, blood spraying from his mouth.

  She broke through their line and bore down on the two generals who were recovering from the shock of her firearm. General Cui, the younger officer recovered first, spurred his horse forward to meet her, his spear held at the ready. The SanYanChong swung in his direction and Cui, expecting to be blown away, threw up his hands. But the killing blow never arrived. Xiao Kai dropped her SanYanChong and drew her sword in one smooth motion. As she rode by General Yan he raised his steel glaive to guard.

  Xiao Kai's robes flared as if buffeted by a hurricane. Her blade descended. A single, perfect, falling arc of dark steel.

  Yan's massive form toppled from his horse, his head rising into the air and the two halves of his glaive fell to the ground. General Yan Pei's head, still encased in its gleaming helmet, tumbled from his shoulders and fell to the earth with a soft, wet thud.

  The battle stopped.

  Xiao Kai leaped from her horse, and landed on the back of General Cui's armored steed. Unable to turn to face her, he could barely move before the bloody tip of her sword came to rest a hair's breadth from his throat.

  From behind her mask, her voice was cold, “Sound the retreat”