Rather than answering Wu Ying, Bai Hu scrambled for the ladder. He slid down, almost knocking aside one of the ascending soldiers. Wu Ying cursed—for a moment later, the lines of power that had surrounded the enemy cultivator broke, freeing the man to swing his sword at Wu Ying. A hasty block sent Wu Ying crashing into the wall, barely holding onto his dao and allowing it to clip his body. The dao he wielded shrieked, sparks flying as the enemy cultivator threw another series of cuts that Wu Ying blocked.
“Go!” Wu Ying shouted, hoping Li Yao heard.
Wu Ying had no time to look behind him as he fought for his life. His opponent had the Sense of the Sword, a grasp of the weapon in a way few martial artists had. If Wu Ying had not reached that same level of understanding himself, this fight would have been over already.
A part of the issue was the fact that Wu Ying was wielding a dao, the weapon limiting his options, as did the narrow footing of the wall’s battlements. On the other hand, he was also grateful, for the heavy-handed strikes the enemy cultivator used were already chipping away at the heavier, thicker sword. Focused on defense, Wu Ying gave up ground unwillingly, eking out each inch that he was forced back. Too far back, and he would be forced away from the ladder, unable to escape.
A flash of green in his peripheral vision as a familiar sword’s aura came skittering along the edge of his senses, then a flash of green as it struck his opponent’s gauntleted arm. Li Yao perched precariously on the wall, leaning around Wu Ying as she struck at the enemy. Her attack had done no damage, at least not visibly, though the armored cultivator stepped back, allowing Wu Ying to regain the tempo.
“I’m going first!” Li Yao cried out, scrambling down the ladder, trusting her boyfriend to save himself.
Even as she ran, Wu Ying threw himself at the enemy cultivator, unleashing a flurry of blows. Dragon in a Tempest was a series of strikes Wu Ying rarely used, especially not with a jian. Building up the momentum on the lighter weapon was tough. It was well suited to the dao though, especially when used correctly.
For once inside the enemy cultivator’s range, Wu Ying was able to force the larger, stronger enemy to change grips, to fight holding the weapon halfway up the blade. Even as Wu Ying thought that he might have a chance, an arrow bounced off his shoulder pauldron, throwing off his timing a little. In a fight like this, even a small advantage would turn the tide.
That fraction of a pause forced back Wu Ying again, a shoulder strike sending Wu Ying stumbling away. As his opponent shifted grips, ready to swing again, Wu Ying flicked his gaze about and found himself alone on the battlements.
Surrounded by enemies, death imminent, Wu Ying took the better option—throwing his weapon at the enemy cultivator and himself off the battlement. Wind rushed past his face as he reached sideways to grip the edge of the ladder, twisting his trajectory and feeling the strain on his muscles. He reoriented himself, feet tucked close as he hit the wall before he kicked off, throwing himself clear of the attacks above and the ladder below. As he fell, Wu Ying hoped that he was right and his reinforced, sturdier body could take the damage.
If not, his hasty escape would mean a hastier death.
Chapter 16
The retreat from the front lines was a hurried affair. Thankfully, after they reached about fifty yards from the wall, the defenders no longer shot at them. Wu Ying could not tell whether or not it was because they felt no need to or because the enemy general was conserving his ammunition. In either case, Wu Ying was thankful, as he limped back to camp, helped along by Tou Hei, who carried his friend and a shield.
The fall itself had, predictably, done a little damage to him. A twisted ankle, shocked knees and hips, and a throb in his back where he had rolled into the fall. All that time reinforcing his body, increasing his cultivation, had increased Wu Ying’s sturdiness, his ability to take a fall. He wasn’t Lady Pan, who had used her qinggong skills to avoid any damage, but he had managed to roll with the fall, absorbing some of the shock. Even as he scrambled away, keeping an eye out for another arrow attack, Wu Ying knew that all of this would help him progress his body cultivation.
As he limped along, returning in ignominious defeat with the rest of his army, Wu Ying could not help but stare at the corpses littering the ground. Some brave soldiers were hurrying into the no-man’s-land and carrying the injured back to their lines. It was a dangerous task as no moment of parley had been called, no guarantee that they would not be shot while doing so. Still, the soldiers risked their lives for their friends, helping the few who had survived. To live another day. Perhaps.
By some of the screams, the way blood bubbled from pierced chests or around wounded limbs, they might not either. Inflammation, infection, diseases of the lung and blood all held hidden dangers for the wounded.
As Wu Ying limped back, he listened to the cries of pain, smelled the refuse of voided bowels and the stink of iron from spilt blood. He heard sobs and whimpers, soldiers calling for parents who were not present, and saw others staring numbly at the fallen. He saw a soldier who crouched on the ground, wounded not in body but broken in his soul, unable to move. Wu Ying could understand that. Even the chi of the battlefield felt strange, transformed by the mixture of death and loss that surrounded them all. He noticed the energy that had spread around them all, building upon their bodies and sending surges of unwanted ecstasy and energy.
In the end, Wu Ying could only hope that their army had gained something from this debacle. What it could be, what could be worth the loss of so many men, he did not know. Then again, he was no general. He was just a simple peasant cultivator.
***
Tou Hei and Wu Ying made their way to the medical tents. Having found a little energy while they walked back, Wu Ying had insisted they help some of the other wounded soldiers. He did not need to convince Tou Hei much, and soon even the other cultivators joined them, each of them helping one of the wounded.
The medical tents were the most familiar aspect of the army to Wu Ying. After all, during his tenure in the army, he’d spent most of it in those same tents. The smell of spilled and drying blood, the cloying tang of herbs and poultices, and the retching of soldiers brought back less-than-pleasant memories. Even so, that experience allowed him to quickly pick out the location of the appropriate triage spot.
“Do you need help?” one of the medics asked Wu Ying, looking over his bruised and limping form.
“No. Take care of them. I’ll heal myself,” Wu Ying replied.
The medic’s lips curled up but he did not protest, already hurrying to help the wounded. Wu Ying turned to find that Tou Hei was hurrying off, headed to the no-man’s-land. As Wu Ying took a step to join him, a hand landed on his arm.
“Don’t be silly. You’re injured. It will be more of a hindrance than a help for you to go,” Li Yao said to Wu Ying.
“I can still help.”
“Then help me. I need to report in,” said Li Yao.
She inclined her head toward the center of the camp, where the vice-general probably awaited her. For a moment, she looked uncertain, her usual bouncy demeanor disappearing. She had been in charge of the cultivator team after all. Wu Ying nodded at his girlfriend, following her to the tent where the commanders waited.
What followed was not as bad as he had expected, for the commanders had had a view of the entire proceedings and, considering the cultivators had at least made it to the walls, had little to complain about. The commanders had numerous other issues to deal with as well, so they were quickly dismissed.
Along the way, Wu Ying learned that Li Yao and the rest of the team had been released days before him, leaving them free to take on assignments for the army. The assignments had earned them a number of contribution points, which Li Yao had been quite happy to showcase to Wu Ying, leading him to the army commissary. Along the way, she made sure that he received his own army token to register his participation in the attack.