Chapter 53: Tactics

Silently, Bai Ling gestured for them to disperse along the pre-prepared ambush ledges, taking up their positions behind the gravitational rock-drops and concealed caltrops.

A few minutes later, the distant darkness began to shift.

Faint plumes of dust rose against the horizon, followed by the dull, synchronized thunder of armored boots grinding over shale. Soon, flickering points of orange torchlight pierced the gloom like a swarm of fireflies. A massive imperial vanguard emerged from the treeline, marching with iron discipline toward the entrance of Wolf Fang Gorge.

Seeing the sheer, overwhelming sea of armored infantry approaching, nearly ten times their own numbers, several of the younger militia boys beside the upper ledges began to tremble. Their breathing grew shallow, their fingers slipping against the cold bowstrings as sheer mortal terror crawled up their throats.

I stood atop the central rock shelf, my white robes rustling in the midnight wind. Looking at the pale, sweating faces of the young outlaws, I let a microscopic wisp of my spiritual aura infuse my voice, letting it resonate softly like an ancient, thunderous bell directly inside their ears.

"Steady your hands, boys," I said, my voice low, transcendent, and carrying the calm majesty of an immortal perched above mortal chaos. "Look closely at the banners marching under those torches. Those are the very men who trampled your wheat fields into mud. Those are the butchers who dragged your sisters and brothers away in chains to rot in foreign slave pits. They come with iron armor and royal decrees, but beneath their polished breastplates, they are nothing more than greedy, hollow scavengers who prey on the weak."

The trembling teenagers stopped shaking, their eyes snapping toward my white-clad figure.

"Tonight, they march into your gorge thinking they are the wolves," I continued, letting a cold, razor-sharp smirk curl my lips. "Show them that when a cornered man picks up steel to defend his family, he can butcher an empire. Stand your ground, trust your traps, and let them bleed."

The words were simple, but infused with the resonant soul-weight of a Late-Stage Golden Core expert, they hit the ninety fighters like a bolt of heavenly lightning. The suffocating dread vanished from their chests, replaced by a fiery, boiling surge of righteous fury. Their knuckles locked around their weapons, their breathing turning deep and steady.

Bai Ling, kneeling behind the command boulder, looked over at me with an expression of profound, awe-struck gratitude. A single speech from an immortal had done more to forge her men’s morale than ten years of military drilling.

It was an easy, really. I practiced to have such Transcendental style, and badass speech was part of it too. Granted, this one wasn’t that great. But it was still very good.

’I was a fan of Erwin, for fucks sake. Of course, I can give speech.’

Below us, the imperial vanguard reached the widening mouth of the canyon. Suddenly, the column halted.

The sound of marching boots ceased, replaced by the clinking of harness chains and the sharp bark of imperial captains. Under our watchful eyes, the eight-hundred-and-fifty-man army split cleanly into three distinct detachments.

Two two-hundred-man squads of light infantry fanned out to the left and right, moving cautiously along the outer ridges to seal the perimeter of the mountain.

"They’re flanking the mountain walls," I chuckled softly, leaning back against the boulder. "They want to seal every ravine so nobody can crawl out of the basin during the slaughter."

Bai Ling let out a sharp, mocking snicker beneath her breath.

"Idiots," she scoffed quietly, her amber eyes gleaming with contempt. "As if I wouldn’t have accounted for an encirclement. The emergency evacuation tunnels run nearly three miles through the subterranean bedrock, exiting on the opposite side of the mountain ridge beneath a natural marsh. They can encircle this canyon until their legs fall off, they are merely wasting their men in the dark."

I laughed softly, watching the primary central battalion-nearly four hundred heavy infantry and forty armored shock troops, begin pitching heavy canvas tents, setting up spiked palisades, and lighting large perimeter bonfires two hundred paces outside the trap zone.

"Just as expected," I said with a smile, looking down at the encampment with a gleam of absolute, predatory amusement. "They aren’t stupid enough to blunder into a dark, rocky funnel at midnight. They’re going to rest their legs, cook their rations, and wait for the morning sun to mount their assault."

Shen Qingxue shifted beside me, her obsidian eyes tracking the flickering fires with cold, calculated patience. "Which gives them six hours of sitting in the open, Master."

"Precisely, little wildcat," I grinned, resting my chin on my hand as my mind began spinning a dozen shameless, thoroughly lethal ideas. "And six hours of an arrogant enemy resting peacefully outside our doorstep means we have plenty of time to make sure their night is an absolute, unforgettable living hell."

Looking down at the imperial troops setting up their bonfires in the valley, I had roughly a dozen different ways to turn their peaceful evening into an open-air crematorium.

The most straightforward, brainless solution was simply to step out into the sky and attack them myself. To a Late-Stage Golden Core cultivator, mortal armies meant less than a handful of dry sand.

Even if Governor Yan had marched ten thousand men into this gorge, let alone a mere eight hundred, a single sweep of my green flying sword infused with Heaven-Grade spiritual qi could cleave the valley floor in two and erase their entire vanguard from existence before their captains could blink.

Still, I wasn’t going to raise a finger to slaughter foot soldiers.

Rolling over mortal soldiers like a bulldozer didn’t teach Qingxue anything, nor did it help Bai Ling forge her resistance into a hardened force. More importantly, an immortal who casually flexed high-tier power to solve every mundane grievance was an utter fool who welcomed heavenly karma and attracted the noses of ancient old monsters.

I leaned back against the cool limestone shelf, folded my hands into my wide white sleeves, and turned my gaze toward the woman standing beside me.

"Leader Bai," I asked, my voice carrying quiet, genuine curiosity. "If you were the sole commander on this ridge tonight, what would you do in this situation?"

Bai Ling paused. Her amber eyes swept across the flickering orange fires below, her sculpted jaw setting into a tight, calculating line. She didn’t offer a rash, emotional response, instead, she took several seconds to evaluate the terrain, their remaining supplies, and the sheer numerical disparity.

"This is an extraordinary opportunity to strike," she began slowly, her voice flat and cold. "Our enemy outnumbers us nearly ten to one, and in a head-on clash on open ground tomorrow morning, their heavy shields and cavalry will grind our militia into paste. We cannot afford the luxury of battlefield honor. That extermination unit down there was built from the ground up to enforce Governor Yan’s greed, every officer and sergeant in those tents has burned villages, taken bribes, and helped drag children into chains. If I had the means, I would butcher every last one of them in their sleep without a shred of hesitation."

She exhaled a soft, frustrated sigh, shaking her head.

"However, executing a midnight assault is practically impossible with what we have," she continued, pointing down toward the organized lines of the imperial camp. "The most obvious tactic would be night assassination using concentrated paralytic poison, slipping into their mess tents to taint their waterskins. But the moment a single sentry drops or screams, the entire camp will be roused. The camp is laid out in interlocking quadrants, once an alarm sounds, our infiltration squad would be trapped and surrounded within breaths."

Her brow furrowed as she systematically dismantled every conventional option. "Targeting the command tent is even more foolish. The vanguard officers are Qi Condensation cultivators, their spiritual senses would detect the subtle scent of mundane toxins long before the cup reached their lips. The best conventional harassment we could manage would be an incendiary raid on their rear wagons, burning their dried grain, spiking their spare weapons, or cutting the tether lines of their warhorses to sow chaos in their lines. But even that is of limited use. A border army can march and fight for a full day on empty stomachs, burning their bread won’t stop them from storming our gorge at dawn."

I listened intently, nodding with deep, genuine appreciation.

Her analysis was remarkably sharp, entirely devoid of wishful thinking. For a mortal commander operating without divine sense or spatial arrays, her assessment of the logistical bottlenecks was downright textbook.

"An exceptional tactical breakdown, Leader Bai," I said with a smile, letting out an easy chuckle. "You accounted for their guards, their supplies, and their spatial layout. However, your calculation overlooked one massive, glaring tactical blunder on the enemy’s part."

Bai Ling blinked, surprised. She turned her amber eyes toward the camp, scanning the fires once more. "A blunder? Which one, Senior?"