Chapter 52: Mountains and Seas (5)

The most direct factor that causes troops to collapse in battle is fear in their hearts.
Under the assault of hundreds of fire horses and the Tang army’s cavalry, the Tibetan soldiers, who had just gained a little confidence, instantly crumbled. They pushed and shoved each other, screaming as they fled in all directions. The night turned into day, and their dreams turned into nightmares. The Tang army was like a group of demons, coldly harvesting lives with their swords.
In the chaos, a Tibetan soldier stepped into an uneven patch of grass and collapsed immediately. His comrades trampled on his face and back. The hard leather boots left bruises that turned blue, causing unbearable pain as the soldier cried out in agony. He tried to get up using his injured elbow but saw only swaying legs around him. After finally managing to stand by gripping a wooden railing, he saw a Tang general wielding a hammer charging at him.
He instinctively tried to run, but his legs gave out. He subconsciously wanted to plead for mercy, but his mouth was as if filled with lead—no sound came out.
A huge, ugly hammer, carrying a gust of cold wind, swung toward him. The Tibetan soldier’s pupils widened in terror.
Under the pitch-black night sky, a scream echoed through the valley. The poor soldier’s head was smashed to pieces; from his forehead to his jaw, it turned into a mess of flesh, with yellowish-white brain matter splashing everywhere. The headless body collapsed onto the ground after a few seconds, raising a cloud of dust.
A teenage Tibetan recruit, witnessing this, felt his stomach turn upside down and vomited all the barley rice he had eaten that morning and noon. Ignoring the food still in his mouth, he screamed and ran away.
Five steps, ten steps, twenty steps.
Before he could run thirty steps, the young man felt a sharp pain in his back. He turned around in disbelief, pointing at a Tang soldier behind him, trying to say something.
But before he could utter a word, he collapsed, his eyes fixed on the sky.
“No surrender—kill them all!”
The armored youth snapped his ink bow and gave orders. The Tibetan army had completely lost the will to fight, becoming like leopards without claws or wolves without fangs—beasts driven only by fear.
“Kill them all! Avenging our fellow villagers!”
Li Kuo raised his sword and kept charging forward. That night, he had already killed dozens of Tibetan soldiers. His armor was soaked in blood, and his sword was worn from hitting bones, but he felt no remorse. These people had killed so many of his comrades and captured so many villagers—they deserved to die!

“General, should we leave some alive?” Dou Qing rode over and whispered. As the adjutant and Li Kuo’s confidant, it was his duty to remind the young man when hatred clouded his judgment. The Tang army never killed surrendered generals; a few hundred might be tolerable. But this Tubo army numbered three thousand, with flames lighting up half the sky. If the higher authorities investigated, it would be difficult to cover up the truth.

General Gao had said not to let a single Tubo soldier go, but he hadn’t said nothing about sparing surrendered soldiers! The Tang dynasty always prided itself on its kindness. If this massacre led to criticism, the colonel couldn’t bear the blame of tarnishing the dynasty’s reputation for benevolence.

“No survivors. No surrender. Kill them all!”

The young man was blinded by rage and wouldn’t listen to Dou Qing’s wise words.

“If the court holds us accountable, I’m afraid it will harm the general.”

Dou Qing gritted his teeth and spoke plainly.

Li Kuo frowned and held the reins. “If the court blames me, I, Li Kuo, will take it on alone!”

Seeing that his colonel was determined, Dou Qing sighed and raised the black flag.

With the black flag raised, no surrendered generals would be spared!

The Tang cavalry, who had once hesitated, now fought with full intensity, slashing with their swords. The Tubo soldiers, deprived of their horses and weapons, lost all fighting spirit and became like sheep ready to be slaughtered. Heads flew into the air, and streams of blood sprayed into the sky. Everywhere there were severed limbs and corpses.

The dying emitted eerie creaking sounds, like soft notes, mixed with the clashing of weapons and the mournful cries of horses.

A Tang soldier dismounted and began beheading a Tubo centurion. His face was filled with glee—officers’ heads were far more valuable than those of ordinary soldiers. Bringing back one such head would boost his rank!

But before he could finish beheading him, he felt his arm tightly squeezed, as if entwined by a worm, preventing him from moving. He struggled hard but couldn’t break free. Turning back, he was shocked to see a Tubo soldier covered in blood clinging tightly to him, smiling viciously. The Tang soldier was terrified and almost bit his own tongue. Hadn’t that man just been stabbed to death? How was he still alive? (Note 1) The Tang soldier, terrified by the smile, kicked wildly backward. But the Tubo soldier was like a stone wall—no matter how much he cursed or struck, he wouldn’t let go!

A Tubo soldier with a severed left arm, smelling the blood, rushed over with a spear.

“Kill him! Kill him!”

The blood-covered Tibetan soldier grinned viciously and shouted.
The Tang soldiers were already sweating profusely from desperation; in a fit of fury, one of them grabbed the blood-stained right hand of the Tibetan soldier and bit down hard.
The Tibetan soldier screamed in pain, slowing down slightly but not releasing his grip. Just a little more—just a little more—and the Tang officer bit down again, leaving white marks tinged with red. The Tibetan soldier grew weaker by the moment, the brightness in his eyes fading.
The spearman hesitated for a moment before driving a silver spear at the Tang officer with all his strength.
As the Tang officer continued to bite the Tibetan soldier’s arm, he suddenly felt a severe pain in his chest. He opened his mouth wide to breathe, but it seemed his lungs had been pierced, making breathing extremely difficult.
The Tibetan spearman pulled out his sharp blade and stabbed the Tang officer wildly again.
One stab, two stabs, three stabs…
The silver spear pierced through the dark armor, tore open the Tang soldier’s abdomen, and also penetrated the body of the Tibetan soldier behind him.
Seeing that the Tang soldier’s breathing grew weaker, the Tibetan soldiers surrounding him gradually loosened their grip and collapsed. He stared straight at the starry sky, a triumphant smile spreading across his face…
“General, run! Our men can hold on no longer!”
A Tibetan officer, seeing his troops being slaughtered by the Tang soldiers, pleaded with their commander in tears.
“General, mount your horse quickly! If we don’t leave now, it will be too late!”
The Tibetan general still hesitated before being lifted by his guards and forced onto his horse.
“Slap!”
The officer cracked the whip harshly, and the warhorse galloped away toward the dense forest to the east in pain. Seeing this, the other Tibetan officers gritted their teeth and leaped onto their horses one after another.
“Retreat! Retreat!”
A group of over a hundred Tibetan cavalry soldiers fled in disarray along the path behind the mountain, their horse hooves clanging loudly as they dared not stop for even a moment.
The rumbling of drums and horns gradually faded, and the smell of blood in the air lessened, allowing the Tibetan cavalry to breathe a sigh of relief.
But before they could ride a hundred steps further, they were blocked by a group of cavalry who appeared out of nowhere, forcing them to pull back sharply on their reins. The warhorses neighed in pain and stood on their hind legs, causing many Tibetan soldiers to lose their balance and nearly fall off.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
The 500 light cavalry led by Zhang Yanji had already circled to the flank, cutting off the enemy’s escape route. He had been complaining earlier about not having a chance to fight, but now that the Tibetans had come to him, he shouted loudly and led his troops into battle.
To stand firm with a sword in hand—such is the spirit of a man!
“It’s the Tang army! There are Tang soldiers here too!”

A Tibetan centurion, illuminated by the dim light, saw the charging cavalry and cried out in alarm.
“Charge! Those who don’t want to die, charge now!”
The Tibetan commander gritted his teeth and drew his curved sword from his waist. With all the passways blocked by the Tang forces, surrounded by pursuers ahead and obstacles behind, staying in this narrow valley meant certain death!
“Charge! Let’s charge!”
The adjutant repeated loudly, trying to boost the troops’ exhausted morale.
The Tibetan cavalry seemed to realize there was no way back except to fight—so they reached for their weapons.
The sound of swords being drawn echoed sharply, and the moonlight reflected off the blades, casting a blinding glare.
“Fight to the death! Kill these Tang invaders!”
The Tibetan commander led the charge with his curved sword.
The two cavalry forces collided instantly—no more feints or fancy moves, just desperate battles with bloodshed at every strike!
Though outnumbered, the Tibetan cavalry were not at a disadvantage. With a resolve to die, they fought fearlessly. Moreover, being experts in horseback combat, they gave it their all in this close fight, sparing no effort. In contrast, the Tang cavalry were stunned by the sudden onslaught. Most of them thought guarding the rear pass was an easy task—until so many fearless Tibetan cavalry appeared! They were there to gain glory and military merits, not to risk their lives.
With these thoughts, the Tang cavalry became hesitant and cautious, resorting only to defensive tactics like blocking and parrying. Seeing the Tang forces so weak, the Tibetans grew confident and struck at the Tang cavalry’s vital points with their swords.
Zhang Yanji was sweating profusely—his 500 men had been scattered by just over 100 fierce cavalrymen. He couldn’t even face anyone after such a disgrace!
“Stop thinking nonsense! Pick up your swords and chop those bastards’ heads! On the battlefield, the more afraid you are of death, the sooner you’ll die. The King of Hell certainly won’t want the souls of cowards!”
As he shouted, a Tibetan cavalryman sneaked up like a ghost and swung his sword at Zhang Yanji’s waist. The young man dodged by leaning to the left, pressing against his horse’s belly to avoid the slash aimed at his right waist.
“Charge! Cut them down! One dead enemy means one less to worry about—kill one, gain one; kill two, gain two!”
The Tibetan commander stabbed a Tang soldier who had closed in and roared fiercely.

A glimmer of hope gradually appeared in his desperate eyes. It turned out that the Tang army was so weak that he fully had the ability to lead his men in a breakout. Once they crossed this valley, there would be open highland meadows, and no matter how many cavalry soldiers the Tang army sent, they wouldn’t be able to catch up with them!……
Note 1: “Changchong”: “Changchong” is a term from northern dialects, meaning snake. It is commonly used in Baoding, Shijiazhuang, and Henan areas, as well as in the vicinity of Beijing, Tianjin, and Shandong; it is an archaic term.