"Prince, those barbarians have already broken through eight military formations. Shouldn’t we send word to the Earl of North Border’s estate and request permission for us to enter first?"
A handsome, bearded middle-aged man inquired of the figure behind the curtain.
"What’s the rush? Even this old eunuch isn’t flustered. Look at you. Tch, disgraceful."
Across from the handsome, bearded middle-aged man sat an old man in a blue robe, draped in furs. His face was so heavily powdered it looked like a mask. His lips were red, his teeth white, and his voice was high-pitched and sharp. A strong fragrance of incense emanated from him.
"Heh, Master Zhang, you jest. I am merely concerned for His Highness. His Highness is of noble birth; he absolutely cannot come to any harm."
"Fine, you scholars are masters of duplicity. I can’t out-argue you. But haven’t you considered where we are? Those barbarians call themselves ’savages of the desert.’ If the Earl of North Border’s estate cannot even deal with a single savage, would it merit such concern from His Majesty?"
"However, blades and spears are indiscriminate. What if those barbarians suddenly go berserk and charge towards us..."
"Master Chen, I cannot enter the estate first either. I was dispatched by my Father Emperor to offer birthday felicitations to the Old Madam. Those who understand will know that my imperial family upholds propriety. Those who do not might mistakenly believe our imperial family truly fears this Earl of North Border’s estate. Previously, it was we who insisted on adhering to the rules, queuing for inspection. If we now take the initiative to seek early entry, well... My own face matters little; I never intended to compete with the Second Prince for the position of Crown Prince. But if the imperial family is slighted because of this, then I shall simply await my Father Emperor’s judgment upon my return to the capital."
"Oh, stop it, Prince! Please be gentler..."
"Prince, I want some too... I want some too..."
"HAHAHA! No rush, no rush. There’s plenty for everyone, plenty."
From within the curtained carriage, sounds of flirtatious laughter and decadent revelry drifted out once more.
The handsome, bearded man and Master Zhang exchanged a knowing glance and tactfully withdrew from the imperial carriage.
Outside, the guards stood in disciplined formation, on high alert. Although the battle was unfolding some distance away, the sheer scale of the commotion ensured they dared not relax their vigilance in the slightest.
The handsome, bearded man, Chen Guangting, faced the biting wind, stroking his long beard. He turned to Master Zhang beside him and said, "Master Zhang, that barbarian is truly formidable. He alone seems capable of holding off a thousand cavalry."
"He is the Left Valley King of the Barbarian Royal Court. If he weren’t of considerable caliber, the Barbarian Royal Court would likely have lost even its nominal title as ’Masters of the Desert’ long ago. They would have been devoured by the other major tribes, with not even dregs remaining."
"Heh, this humble official has limited experience. For the past ten years, I’ve been cloistered in the Hanlin Academy, engrossed in scholarly work. I confess I know little of worldly affairs."
"Oh, my, Master Chen, you jest! Our Great Yan has no shortage of Martial Cultivators. What we truly lack are promising men of letters like yourself."
Throughout their journey, Chen Guangting looked down upon the eunuch for his castrated state, while Master Zhang, in turn, disdained Chen Guangting’s air of a pedantic scholar. Yet, surprisingly, though they bickered constantly, their relationship had nonetheless progressed.
One had been implicated due to his mentor’s troubles, wasting years in the Hanlin Academy before being dispatched as a lecturer to the Royal Mansion of an unimportant prince.
The other had been denounced by his own godson, demoted and banished from the Imperial Palace, then assigned to the same Royal Mansion to oversee menial chores.
To a certain extent, they were kindred spirits in misfortune. The highest echelons of power for scholars and eunuchs alike were now irrevocably beyond their reach.
"These tactics the North Border Army is employing... what exactly are they?" Chen Guangting asked.
"Heh heh. The vital energy of a top-tier Martial Cultivator of this era is like the morning sun at its zenith. On the battlefield, when faced with such an individual, you either dispatch one or two experts of comparable strength to engage and tie him down, or you resort to the method the North Border Army is currently using: relentless assaults by their iron cavalry, wearing him down bit by bit, like a dull knife slowly slicing away flesh. They aim to gradually diminish his ’rising sun’ of vitality until it becomes a ’setting sun over a dying river.’ See? That barbarian’s vital energy is already waning. It’s hard to say if he can withstand this second wave of eight formations. Even if he does, he’ll be utterly spent. But a third wave of formations will follow swiftly, giving him absolutely no chance to recover!"
"So they’re using their own soldiers’ lives to exhaust his vital energy?"
"You could interpret it that way."
"And those soldiers... are they aware that their lives are merely being expended to drain him?"
"And they’re willing?"
The thick layer of powder on Master Zhang’s face creased as he chuckled, the smile forming wrinkles. "Well, what else would you expect? They *are* the North Border Army. You might find this laughable, but when I was a child, before I was... cut, my dream was to one day join the North Border Army and slay barbarians in the desert."
"Not at all, not at all."
"Still, I remain curious. The Barbarian Left Valley King himself is here. The Earl of North Border’s command supposedly boasts 300,000 iron cavalry; do they truly not have a few genuine experts stationed here?" ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ NoveI(F)ire.net
"Of course, there are."
"Then why don’t they intervene?"
"With the Barbarian Left Valley King serving as a live sparring partner, such a prime opportunity to drill the troops is incredibly rare. Naturally, they’d let all their units take this chance to get some practice."
"This... Is such a thing truly permissible?"
"Just take a look around. Those who’ve come today for the Old Madam’s birthday celebrations include envoys from various nations, representatives from major clans, and even chieftains from prominent barbarian tribes. Martial Cultivator experts as formidable as this Barbarian Left Valley King before us are, across the entire world, extremely rare. However, the North Border Army’s iron cavalry, across all six garrisons, numbers a full 300,000. Every major clan and influential family is constantly weighing their options. After witnessing the elite strength and formidable power of the North Border Army today, who among them would dare act presumptuously before the Earl’s estate in the future? For the Earl, this barbarian’s attack is a timely gift—like receiving a pillow just as one is dozing off. They are using him to make a grand display of their might."
"Sigh... I’m all finished in here, and that barbarian is *still* not done out there?"