Chapter One: Strict Defense

The sky grew darker and darker, and the air became increasingly stifling.

At the foot of the mountain was a densely packed military camp, banners fluttering, and strict security everywhere. The wind carried faint rumbles of thunder, along with a sense of heaviness. The sound of banners flapping and the distant drills of infantry could be vaguely heard.

On the distant horizon, a black dot appeared, galloping closer and closer, accompanied by the crisp sound of horse hooves on the ground.

The black dot gradually became clear—it was a fast horse in full gallop. The rider kept whipping the horse, urging it on. Judging by the horse’s speed, it had already been running for quite some time.

When the rider was about fifty zhang from the camp gate, the sentry at the entrance could see clearly: the newcomer wore the attire of the current dynasty, with the air of a civil official, but didn’t look like an ordinary clerk. He also carried a bundle wrapped in yellow silk on his back. The guard’s instincts made him extra cautious, and he shouted loudly, “Halt!”

“Insolent wretch! I come bearing an imperial edict to see your commanding general William Thompson. Open the gate at once and kneel to receive the emperor’s will!” the rider shouted sternly.

The guard was startled, quickly called over another sentry, gave a few instructions, and the sentry ran swiftly toward the main tent to report. The guard himself hurried down from the watchtower and directed several soldiers to open the camp gate.

The rider reined in his horse outside the gate, looking into the camp.

Moments later, a group of officers emerged from the direction of the main tent. Leading them was a man in a general’s uniform—none other than William Thompson.

Hearing of an imperial edict, William Thompson was greatly alarmed and quickly led his officers out of the camp gate.

Attendants brought out an offering table and lit incense. Everyone, along with the general, knelt on the ground, ready to listen to the edict.

Only then did the rider dismount, take out a yellow silk-wrapped scroll from his bundle, walk to the incense table, unroll it, and read aloud:

“By the Mandate of Heaven, the Emperor decrees: The commander of the third border camp, William Thompson, is guilty of dereliction of duty and is to be executed immediately. Thus decreed!”

William Thompson was shocked and was about to protest when the messenger suddenly drew a dagger from the edict, swift as lightning, and stabbed it into William Thompson’s chest just as he was rising. At the same time, the messenger burst into loud laughter and quickly leapt away.

From the moment William Thompson stood up to the messenger’s escape, it was all over in an instant. The messenger’s movements were nothing like those of a civil official—he was clearly a martial arts master.

As the messenger laughed, a thunderous sound of hooves came from afar—a squad of Khitan cavalry.

Clutching his bleeding wound, William Thompson pointed at the messenger and said, “You… you… you’re an imposter!”

Unable to catch his breath, he died with hatred.

The surrounding soldiers were stunned by the sudden turn of events. By the time they reacted, the Khitan cavalry was less than an arrow’s shot away.

In the blink of an eye, the Khitan cavalry charged through the camp gate. The soldiers behind, unaware of what had happened, were trampled under the iron hooves.

A bloody battle erupted. But with the gate breached, the commander dead, and morale shattered—not to mention the Khitans’ thorough preparations and element of surprise—the third camp at the foot of the western mountain was routed in less than the time it takes to eat a meal. The ground was littered with the dead and wounded, corpses everywhere.

Since the war with the Khitans began, there had never been such a crushing defeat. A camp of ten thousand was destroyed. Of the entire force, including officers, over eleven thousand men, only a few hundred escaped.

Meanwhile, on a distant hill, several riders quietly observed the situation at the western mountain camp.

A man dressed as a scholar rode forward and cupped his hands to a Khitan general, saying, “My lord, it seems my plan has already succeeded halfway.”

“Hahahaha! Brian, your strategy is truly extraordinary. Even if the grand plan fails, we’ve already cost the southerners a ten-thousand-strong unit and a camp. That’s more than enough,” the Khitan general laughed.

“My lord, do you mean the other group might fail? Do you doubt my abilities?” The scholar, called Brian, retorted, clearly displeased.

The general glanced at the somewhat unhappy strategist, sighed, and said bitterly, “Brian, it’s not that I doubt your wisdom. This complete victory just now has already proven your abilities.”

“Oh? Then could it be…” Brian hesitated and asked.

The Khitan general looked at the distant, blood-soaked battlefield, where Khitan soldiers were already cleaning up. This time, the Khitans had used a brilliant plan to seize the camp, capturing countless supplies and destroying over ten thousand enemies, while suffering less than a thousand casualties themselves. No wonder the Khitan general called this a complete victory.