Chapter Fifty-Eight: War Wolf (V)

Damn, this thing is heavy. Watching from the sidelines is one thing, but once Liu Ji gripped it himself, he finally understood the true extent of Zhang Wuji’s strength.

The strange blade, almost two meters long and forged almost entirely from refined iron, felt in his hands like he was swinging a long, solid railroad track. Only such a massive weapon could inflict real damage on the snow wolves weighing over three hundred jin.

In later times, the combat training Liu Ji had undergone rarely involved such heavy blades; at most, he’d practiced with swords like the Japanese katana—said to be developed from the horizontal blade at his waist. But those blades, unless they struck a vital spot, would only enrage the snow wolves further.

A grown male wolf, just like the one before, moved with astonishing speed and agility, weaving left and right to dodge the incoming arrows, and soon it was right in front of him.

Liu Ji gripped his blade with both hands and turned sideways to face his opponent, the tip of his sword touching the ice. This was partly to gather strength and partly to conserve energy.

Because of the threat from the archers, the snow wolf didn't pause or leap through the air; instead, it crouched low, pressing its belly to the ground, crawling forward like a crab—yet losing none of its speed.

Liu Ji made his move, faster than the wolf itself. With a quick step, his body surged forward, then pivoted sharply on his left foot. The blade followed his motion, sweeping upward in a slanting arc toward the wolf’s head.

The wolf reacted instantly, rolling across the ice to avoid his strike. Watching from behind, Zhang Wuji immediately realized the beast had fallen into a trap.

Sure enough, even though Liu Ji’s blade missed, he had already raised it high above his head. As the momentum of the blade was about to run out, he lunged forward, let out a fierce shout, and brought the blade crashing down with terrifying force, cleaving into the belly of the rolling snow wolf.

Wolves are said to have “bronze heads, iron bones, and tofu waists, with broom-like tails.” Only their lower bellies are soft and vulnerable. With Liu Ji’s full-force strike, he tore open a huge gash, and as the wolf rolled, the wound was ripped wider. By the time it stood on all fours, bloodied entrails spilled out. The snow wolf, whose outward appearance was still intact, let out a mournful cry of unwillingness and collapsed onto the ice.

The entire sequence reminded Zhang Wuji of their earlier bout. From Liu Ji’s opening moves and his method of wielding the blade, it was clear that his technique was vastly different from the standard style—there was none of the grand, sweeping momentum or relentless aggression, but rather a certain craftiness. Yet Zhang had to admit, this kill was executed flawlessly: Liu Ji hadn’t suffered a scratch, and he’d expended very little energy.

What he didn’t know was that Liu Ji was far from as relaxed as he appeared. It was as though he’d just swung a thirty-plus-jin sledgehammer in a circle. Before he could catch his breath, another snow wolf lunged at him, its sharp claws slicing cold wind across his cheek, stinging like a whip.

There was no time to retreat; Liu Ji ducked low to avoid another swipe, but now the blade was trapped beneath him, with no room to maneuver. The wolf was too close for him to swing. Just as he was about to abandon the blade and roll away, a sharp command rang out behind him.

“Press up!”

The words struck Liu Ji like a jolt of clarity. He gripped the hilt in reverse and thrust upward with all his might. The iron guard of the blade struck the wolf’s jaws, making the beast stagger back in pain.

“Roll!”

Planting his feet, Liu Ji sprang up, flipping the blade in his hands to draw a graceful arc as he slashed forward at the wolf’s body.

“Break!”

“Strike!”

Before the voice behind him could finish, Liu Ji instinctively executed the next move. The wolf, having dodged his slash, was just about to retaliate when he brought the blade down with a sharp chop, forcing the wolf’s head low. Without changing his stance, he let the heavy blade sweep sideways like a club, slamming it hard into the wolf’s skull.

So he really had learned this kind of killing technique. Zhang Wuji’s reminders awakened Liu Ji’s buried memories. The heavy blade no longer felt unwieldy; instead, his strikes became more rhythmic, his breathing, movements, and footwork all fell into place. An exhilarating feeling surged within him.

How satisfying.

After the heavy blow, the dazed wolf barely had time to react before Liu Ji closed the distance, bringing the gleaming blade straight down, slicing through the thick muscles of its back. He yanked the blade back with force, making the wolf’s head snap up in agony, its howl piercing the air.

Without a pause, Liu Ji didn’t even have time to celebrate. Another wolf was already charging into the fray.

This time, he didn’t dodge. He planted the blade in the ice, his cold gaze fixed on the beast, waiting for it to leap.

Truly a direct disciple of Lord Tian, Zhang Wuji thought. Although he hadn’t understood Liu Ji’s odd demeanor earlier, everything that followed dispelled his doubts. Skill couldn’t be faked—these moves flowed seamlessly, with perfect timing and force. At Liu Ji’s age, Zhang himself could never have achieved this mastery.

With the Tang army’s morale soaring, the number of snow wolves rapidly dwindled, and Liu Ji’s assigned passage grew less pressured. The spearmen and archers originally supporting him were now free to reinforce other threatened positions. Even Zhang Wuji himself, after resting for a quarter of an hour, took over as a blade wielder on another front, giving Liu Ji a brief respite.

Among the fifty-man squad, there were only ten wielders of the strange blades, tasked with defending eight passageways. This meant that at least two directions would always lack a replacement. The blades were deadly but exhausting to use. If not for the intensive physical training of the past ten days, they might have collapsed long ago.

Even so, the few blade wielders were reaching their limits, casualties inevitable. Amidst the unending howls of wolves, Liu Ji could still make out human voices. The losses among his men were impossible to tally; this was the most dangerous moment, a test of endurance to the bitter end.

Fortunately, they still had spears and archers. As Liu Ji fought on, he roared to boost morale. Corpses of snow wolves piled up before and behind him, forming a small mountain, upon whose summit he now stood.

From his high vantage point, he saw that the once-dense mass of wolves was now scattered and thin. At last, when he felled yet another wolf and sent it rolling away with a howl, the passage ahead fell silent. For a long while, no more wolves dared to rush forward.

The battlefield was quiet at last. Liu Ji, who had swung his blade almost without pause, was panting from exhaustion, but he raised the strange blade high and let out a thunderous shout.

“Ah!”

It was both a declaration of victory and a challenge.

In the distance, the massive snow wolf leader roared back in defiance, but this time, not a single wolf dared approach him. Instead, they darted about restlessly, uneasy.

They were afraid. Decimated and bloodied, the wolf pack was finally cowed by heavy losses.

“Huo!”

His men joined in, shouting for all their worth, their voices echoing across the frozen plain.