Chapter Fifty-Eight: Breakthrough

When the two armies became entangled, the mounted generals found their space for movement instantly constricted, as they were surrounded on all sides by layers of soldiers—friend and foe alike. At such a moment, horsemanship became especially vital.

Cao Chun, son of the Colonel of the Long Water Command, who rode by Cao Hong’s side, demonstrated the advantage of superior riding skills. He repeatedly spurred his horse and deftly maneuvered to evade the enemy’s long halberds and attacks from opposing generals. Whenever his warhorse reared and came crashing down, enemy soldiers were often trampled beneath its hooves.

His opponent was a man of about thirty-five or thirty-six, wielding a crescent blade—a long-handled broadsword, ranging from twelve to sixteen feet, with a broad, curved blade resembling a crescent moon. The back of the blade was serrated, with holes through which tassels hung, and where the blade joined the staff, a dragon’s mouth was carved, while the butt ended in a heavy iron pommel. It was famed for its power in cutting and slashing, sometimes called the Cold Beauty Saw.

None among Cao’s generals favored such a weapon, but Cao Hong had seen one before in his own martial training hall at Qichun.

The man wielded his crescent blade with relentless skill—hacking, slashing, dragging, flicking, cleaving, slicing, unfolding, stabbing, chopping, hooking, catching, and cutting—each move aimed at Cao Chun’s vitals. But he was continually pressed back; had Cao Chun not been forced to fend off waves of foot soldiers, he would already have dispatched his opponent.

Cao Hong, by contrast, fared much better. The nameless sword in his hand was a legendary weapon, and his martial prowess was superb. Each time he clashed with an enemy general, he would use the momentum to cleave down another soldier at his side. For the moment, he led in the tally of enemies slain.

The general facing Cao Hong was at the peak of the “Refining Qi, Transforming Spirit” stage—a rank just beneath Cao Hong’s own in cultivation, but his martial technique lagged far behind. Cao Hong knew that, within ten more exchanges, he would cut the man down from his horse.

Of the five Cao generals who had first crashed into the enemy, two held the advantage—Cao Hong and Cao Chun. Dian Wei and Cao Cao themselves were locked in fierce combat, neither side gaining ground, while Liao Hua was clearly struggling.

Cao Cao fought his opponent to a standstill, protected by the desperate efforts of his personal guards, so he was not much troubled by enemy foot soldiers. Dian Wei had initially held the upper hand, but when the armies pressed together and the horses could no longer maneuver, he began to struggle. The young general he faced possessed riding skills nearly on par with Cao Chun, and soon had Dian Wei tightly engaged.

As the battle wore on, the Cao army began to falter—outnumbered and without the advantage of terrain, they were slowly being compressed by the enemy. If the opposing army managed to fully encircle them, even breaking out would become difficult.

Amidst the thunderous roar and clash of arms around him, Cao Hong had no sense of the larger battle. All he knew was that each stroke of his sword brought down an enemy, yet the foes pressed ever thicker. Anxious, he suddenly shouted, “Xiaoxiang Sword Rain!” and unleashed a flurry of cold, flickering sword-light, stabbing six soldiers dead in an instant. The opposing general staggered, his momentum broken; seizing the chance, Cao Hong brought his blade down on the enemy’s horse’s head. Blood spurted as the steed collapsed beneath him, throwing the general to the ground, where he nearly vanished into the mass of troops.

Cao Hong thought grimly, “There is no such easy escape!” He spurred his horse forward, scattering the enemy soldiers, and thrust his sword at the exposed neck of the fallen man. The general rolled again.

With a clang, Cao Hong’s sword struck the beast-head shoulder guard of his foe.

“Die!” Cao Hong roared, rearing his horse and preparing to crush the man with his steed’s weight. At that moment, a cold wind rushed at his head. Instinctively, he raised his sword to block.

The sound of metal striking metal rang out, deafening. Even Cao Hong’s horse was knocked off balance by the force of the blow, and his enemy narrowly escaped, retreating hastily.

Cao Hong looked up and saw that the young general who had just been locked in combat with Dian Wei had abandoned his horse and now stood before him, spear in hand. Dian Wei was charging after, bellowing, a horse’s head still impaled on his short halberd—clearly, the young general had used his riding skills to sacrifice his own horse, block Dian Wei’s attack, and leap in to ambush Cao Hong, saving the other general from certain death.

The general whom Cao Hong had nearly killed now regained his feet and moved to stand beside the young warrior, shouting, “Bo Luan! Kill this man!”

The young general laughed aloud, “Rest easy, Uncle. Within three exchanges, this traitor will be dead!” With that, he advanced on Cao Hong.

But suddenly, from the young general’s left, a spray of blood and a flash of sword-light shot toward him. A swordsman shouted, “If you want to kill my lord, you must get through me first!”

This was Shi A, who had concealed himself among Cao Hong’s guards since his own Azure Blade had been broken. He had kept a low profile, hiding himself among the infantry, but now struck with sudden, fierce momentum.

Bo Luan, as the young general was called, flew into a rage and thrust his spear to meet Shi A. Just then, from the flank, another detachment of cavalry charged in—led by Yue Jin, covered in blood, one hand gripping a ring-handled saber, the other a short halberd, looking like a demon from the underworld. His horse nowhere in sight, he shouted, “My lord! Do not linger—these knaves are closing the net around us!”

With that, he hacked his way toward Cao Cao and Xu Rong, leaping to attack as soon as he was within range. Cao Cao seized the opportunity to break free, shouting, “Break out!”

He spurred his horse forward, brandishing his halberd to drive back the general attacking Liao Hua, and called out again, “Guards! Break through!”

Cao Chun, hearing this, unleashed a series of ferocious attacks, drove his opponent back, and cried, “Left Guard, break through!”

Cao Hong cut down two more enemies, snatched a halberd, and hurled it straight at Bo Luan. Though Bo Luan had Shi A’s blade suppressed, he was forced to deflect the thrown halberd, cursing in frustration. Shi A seized the chance, rolling away and fighting his way into the enemy lines to escape.

Cao Hong shouted, “Right Guard, break through!” and spurred his horse toward Bo Luan. This young general’s martial prowess was formidable—if not contained, he would surely lead a pursuit like a maggot clinging to the bone.

Bo Luan swept aside the thrown halberd and steadied himself just as Cao Hong charged, his Han sword transformed into a streak of rainbow, slashing down from above—impossible to dodge. Bo Luan shouted and raised his spear, trying to deflect the blow.

But Cao Hong was a master of martial arts, his power focused and undispersed, and there was no deflecting it. Sword, man, and horse crashed together; even Bo Luan, for all his skill, was driven back several paces, knocking over seven or eight soldiers before jamming his spear into the ground to stop himself. His face flushed with blood, his breath in chaos, and by the time he regained his composure, Cao Hong had already joined Cao Cao’s breakout, more than thirty feet away, with a thick mass of soldiers between them. His own unit was scattered, and he knew that to pursue alone, with his men in disarray, would only invite disaster. He shouted, his voice booming over the din of battle for a hundred feet: “You, with the Han sword! Dare you leave your name? This sword of martial might—Zhang Bo Luan swears to reclaim it!”

The words rang out above the tumult. Cao Hong laughed heartily, “Defeated foe! Empty boasts! I am Cao Zilian of Peiguo—await your lesson when you can!”

Zhang Bo Luan snorted in fury, kicking away a Xiliang soldier blocking his path, and made as if to charge after them. But his uncle, the general whom Cao Hong had nearly killed—Zhang Xiu, a commander of eight thousand under Dong Zhuo, now serving under General Xu Rong—caught his arm. Zhang Bo Luan, his nephew, was a master of the spear, second only to Lü Bu, even stronger than Xiliang’s champion Hua Xiong, and proud to a fault. He saw that Cao Hong had won by cleverness, felt aggrieved, and could not swallow Cao Hong’s taunts.

But his uncle, Zhang Ji, said, “Bo Luan, these Cao traitors’ guards are elite and fierce, yet remain unshaken. Our own troops were scattered in the first clash. To pursue alone, without our own men, would be folly. The other generals’ men are in chaos; numbers alone will not help us and may even give the enemy an opening. Regroup your soldiers and bring them to order before you give chase—this is the proper course.”

Zhang Xiu, though unwilling, glanced once more at Cao Hong’s retreating figure, gave a grudging assent, and went to find his own unit in the chaos.

At that moment, Cao Cao joined forces with Yue Jin, then rallied Cao Chun, Cao Hong, Dian Wei, Liao Hua, and the Guard Battalion. Together they slew a path northward, the soldiers crying as one, “Break through to Mount Bei Mang!” Slashing their way north, they pressed on.

Along the way, Xiahou Dun, Xiahou Yuan, and Cao Ren heard the shouts and joined the fighting, gathering together into a torrent that surged toward the north. Cao Hong, riding beside Cao Cao, looked back for banners, but could not see those of Wei Zi, another commander of a thousand. He quickly said to Cao Cao, “Elder brother, Brother Zixu may still be trapped in the encirclement!”

Cao Cao, galloping at full speed, replied, “The enemy is too strong—we cannot go to his aid!”

Cao Hong sighed inwardly, but just then, the sounds of battle swelled behind them. Wei Zi’s banner could be seen only thirty paces to the rear, but separated by ranks of Xiliang troops, there was no way to reach him.

Cao Cao looked back, his face torn with pain and indecision.

Cao Hong, seeing this, was struck by a thought and called out, “Wen Gui! Wen Gui! Azure Blade!”

Pan Zhang and Shi A emerged from the crowd, answering, “My lord!”

Cao Hong said, “Lead the Right Guard into the chaos—if you can reach Zixu and bring him out, that will suffice!”

Shi A and Pan Zhang answered at once, taking the battered Right Guard and plunging into the enemy lines. Cao Hong knew this meant his Right Guard was finished, and Pan Zhang and Shi A’s fates were uncertain. Yet, seeing the pain on Cao Cao’s face, Cao Hong realized how much his brother valued Wei Zi, the first outsider to win his trust—a perfect chance to win Cao Cao’s favor.

Amid the perils of battle, Cao Hong’s mind was uncommonly clear. He made his choice swiftly—even if Pan Zhang and Shi A fell with Wei Zi amid the enemy, Cao Cao would be moved by his effort. Though the loss of Pan Zhang was unfortunate, generals in this age were as numerous as cattle; another could always be trained.

As expected, Cao Cao turned to him gratefully, “Zilian… you…”

Cao Hong replied decisively, “Armies are easily raised, but a single general is hard to find!”

Cao Cao nodded heavily, and pressed on, leading the army in their breakout.