Chapter Ten: At Hulao Pass, Hua Xiong Is Slain

Sun Jian raised his ancient saber, sweeping it sideways with a rush of wind, the sharp blade slicing from left to right toward Hua Xiong’s head! Hua Xiong, proud and unyielding, crossed his great broadsword above his head with both hands to intercept the blow.

Steel clashed against steel. Hua Xiong gritted his teeth as a numbness shot through his palms, his bones trembling slightly, and he could not help but exclaim inwardly, “This man’s strength is truly astonishing!” The sound of metal striking metal echoed loudly, making the ears of those nearby buzz, while their warhorses kicked up dust and galloped away in alarm.

“Ha!” Sun Jian shouted fiercely, twisting his body and slashing at Hua Xiong's waist. His ancient saber flashed with a cold gleam, its edge razor-sharp. Sensing killing intent behind him, Hua Xiong’s expression faltered briefly; he tightened his grip on his broadsword, turning it quickly to guard his back. Sparks flew as the saber scraped along the blade, producing a piercing, shrill sound.

Both men wheeled their horses and faced each other, the warhorses snorting white vapor, hooves kicking up clouds of sand, baring their teeth and glaring, ready to trample their foes beneath their feet.

Sun Jian’s eyes blazed; gripping his ancient saber tightly, he declared in a clear, commanding voice, “The so-called heroes under the traitor Dong Zhuo are nothing but braggarts. Hua Xiong, you child, I, Sun Wentai, shall take your head within three moves!”

“Hah! Sun Jian, you dare boast? Within three moves, let us see who takes whom!” Hua Xiong spun his broadsword, gathering his strength and resolve.

Their warhorses stomped the ground, dust billowing. Sun Jian raised his arm and brought his saber down in a mighty arc; Hua Xiong parried with his broadsword—“Clang!”—his arm quivering from the impact, his face showing strain. Sun Jian swung again, like a hero reborn, wielding a hundred pounds of force with each blow!

“Damn it!” Hua Xiong’s face changed, fear showing as his broadsword slipped from his grasp. Panic and terror overtook him. As he turned to flee, he saw the ancient saber flashing coldly toward his head. Blood sprayed, and a head, filled with unwillingness and regret, flew high into the air!

“General Hua Xiong has been slain!” The soldiers, watching the head roll across the ground, trembled with fear. With their commander dead, morale collapsed, and all will to fight vanished.

“The whole army—charge with me, Sun Wentai!”

“Kill!”

Cheng Pu and Huang Gai roared, leading the elite cavalry in a swift charge against the enemy’s formation.

Sun Jian’s ancient saber spun in wide, sweeping arcs, awe-inspiring in its ferocity. Mounted atop his warhorse, he struck down three elite riders, then reached out as if scooping the moon, slashing five soldiers’ heads clean from their shoulders!

He moved through the ranks as if no one could stand before him, coming and going like a deity.

Li Jue and Guo Si watched Hua Xiong’s decapitation, their hearts filled with fear. Sun Jian’s troops surged, each man fierce and unmatched, like true tigers and lions, terrifying the two generals to the core.

The two armies clashed. Eight thousand elite cavalry swept through like a storm, and thirty thousand of Sun Jian’s soldiers crushed Hua Xiong’s forces like dry twigs. The formation broke instantly, armor shattered, blood spilled, heads flew, and angry roars echoed as Sun Jian’s troops fought with wild, bloodshot eyes, their momentum unstoppable.

With their commander dead and without direction, Hua Xiong’s troops lost all will to fight. Seeing their foes like bloodthirsty wolves and tigers, terror gripped their hearts, and many dropped their weapons and fled in panic.

“Retreat! Quickly, retreat! The whole army, fall back!”

The sound of bronze bells rang out, spreading panic among Hua Xiong’s soldiers, who ran as fast as their legs could carry them, wishing for more feet to escape.

“Li Jue, villain, don’t run! The Little Conqueror, Sun Bofu, is here to take your life!”

“Lü Ziming is here—prepare to die, traitor!”

Sun Ce and Lü Meng quickly engaged Li Jue, attacking from both sides, blade and spear flashing. Their weapons clashed, and before long, fifty rounds had passed! The more they fought, the braver they became, their courage swelling, faces fierce and fearless.

Li Jue, however, grew more frantic, sweat pouring from his brow, narrowly escaping death several times. His resolve had long since vanished.

Gradually, Sun Jian’s troops surrounded him completely.

The Little Conqueror let out a thunderous roar, startling Li Jue’s horse, which reared and whinnied, “Heaven means to destroy me!”

Li Jue was thrown to the ground, his helmet flying aside.

“Seize him!”

Sun Ce looked down at Li Jue, seeing his father already in pursuit. Lü Meng dismounted and sized up Li Jue, “Bofu, what do you think Changsu wants with this guy? He’s not even handsome.”

Li Jue glared fiercely at Lü Meng, who slapped him, “You dare glare at me, you wretch!”

“Cowardly brat, if you have any guts, kill me now! To humiliate me like this—what honor is there in that?!”

Sun Ce glanced coldly at Li Jue, “If my brother hadn’t requested you, I’d have taken your head already, traitor!”

Jiang Wen had warned them specially: their father would surely slay Hua Xiong, and they must keep a close watch on Hua Xiong’s lieutenants, Li Jue and Guo Si. If they captured these two, Hua Xiong’s army morale would collapse completely, and the troops would flee in panic.

At this moment, every general lacked troops; now, General Sun could collect these fleeing Xiliang soldiers at will.

Sun Ce sighed inwardly, amazed at Jiang Wen’s insight. Even he, confident in his father’s abilities, could not guarantee victory.

At the site of the coalition, three hundred miles from the Tiger Gate Pass, the lords were feasting grandly. Though called an alliance, it was nothing more than a stage for intrigue and scheming.

Yuan Shao’s face was broad and dignified, his every gesture full of boldness. Raising his wine cup and eating meat, he laughed and joked with the other lords.

Beside him sat a man with closed eyes, radiating heroic spirit from his brow, his appearance upright and impressive, though for now he was but a minor character among the lords.

Yuan Shao set down his cup, his tiger’s eyes shining as he laughed, “Mengde, this banquet has lasted half an hour and yet you haven’t touched your food. Is it not to your taste?”

Cao Cao opened his eyes, as if a storm surged within, but soon calmed himself, “Lord Yuan, we have been allied here for a month, but not a single battle fought, not a single step taken. Every day, we feast and drink. Lord Yuan, are we going to fight Dong Zhuo or not?”

“Cao Mengde, what do you mean by that? We are conserving our strength, with eighteen allied lords camped here, our arms pointed straight at Luoyang. Dong Zhuo must be trembling day and night!” Yuan Shu laughed, draining his wine with satisfaction.

Cao Cao’s expression remained unmoved. He glanced aside, his eyes suddenly lighting up. At this banquet, he noticed another, like himself, who had not touched the food or drink before him.

This man looked honest and simple, with larger ears than most, and behind him stood two mighty warriors. One was rough-faced, with a leopard’s head, round eyes, a full beard, standing eight feet tall—a true brute.

The other was nine feet tall, with phoenix eyes, silkworm brows, and a three-foot-long beard neatly combed beneath his chin. His face was reddish-brown, brimming with pride. The confidence in his eyes made it clear he held the lords in little regard.

Cao Cao’s heart stirred. He glanced at Yuan Shao, picked up a wine cup, and walked over to Liu Bei, “Brother Xuande, does this banquet not suit your taste today?”

Zhang Fei’s beard bristled as he glared, his voice thundering, “You’re cozy with that Yuan Shao brat, so you’re no good either! Yuan Shao promised my elder brother provisions and troops, but hasn’t delivered a thing. I say he’s nothing but a bird!”