Chapter 12: A Fight to the Death

Nightfall descended, and the flickering flames of the campfire cast tense shadows on the faces of the gathered soldiers. Zhang Xing stood beneath an ancient tree, the newly formed resistance force behind him, and before him lay a battle that would decide their fate. The air was still, broken only by the crackling of the fire and the faint murmur of whispered conversations. The atmosphere was thick with foreboding; everyone knew that the coming fight would determine whether they lived or died.

The bandit leader approached Zhang Xing, his gaze steady, carrying a hint of skepticism. He gestured toward the distant valley. "According to our scouts, the imperial forces have set up camp on the other side of the valley. They outnumber us three to one, and they're well-armed, with plenty of firearms. This won't be like the skirmishes we've faced before."

Zhang Xing nodded, having expected as much. Since their ambush on the patrol, it was inevitable that the court would send reinforcements. Scanning the surrounding area, he spoke in a low voice, "It's not about numbers. The terrain will be our weapon. We'll draw them into our trap."

The leader smirked coldly. "You think they'll fall for it? These imperial soldiers aren't fools."

Zhang Xing gave a slight smile, his confidence unwavering. "The imperials are arrogant. They'll want a quick victory, so they'll be eager to chase us. I've set up a decoy camp to lure them in. When they attack, we'll retreat into the valley. Its steep cliffs are perfect for an ambush. Once they're trapped, we'll strike."

The leader nodded, slightly impressed. "You're a clever tactician. It's worth a shot." He clapped Zhang Xing on the shoulder. "I'll trust you on this. This fight, we give it everything."

Zhang Xing said nothing more and walked toward the gathered troops. The villagers from Zhao Village, Zhang Village's rebels, and the bandits all stood together. Though their weapons were crude, each face was set with determination.

"Listen to me!" Zhang Xing called out, his voice strong and resolute. "Tonight, we have no retreat. The imperial soldiers are closing in, and we either win or die! But if we stand united and use the land to our advantage, this valley will be our weapon. Victory is within our grasp!"

His words echoed through the valley, and the soldiers raised their weapons, their low murmurs turning into a roar of approval. Morale soared.

As night deepened, Zhang Xing ordered the troops to take their positions on the slopes of the valley, leaving behind a decoy camp below. The fires still burned, and silhouettes moved about, making it appear as though the resistance was preparing for battle. Zhang Xing knew this fake camp was crucial to drawing the imperials into their trap. He made it look vulnerable, hoping to tempt the enemy into a rash attack.

Meanwhile, across the valley, the imperial commander—a seasoned general in his fifties, with sharp eyes that had seen many battles—rode through his camp. He looked toward the decoy camp in the distance and sneered. "These rebels really are a ragtag bunch, careless enough to leave themselves exposed like that."

He turned to his deputy. "Prepare the troops. We'll crush their camp in one swift strike and wipe out these fools."

The deputy nodded and quickly organized the soldiers, positioning archers and musketeers at the front. With a barked command, the imperial army advanced in tight formation, their firearms ready to unleash destruction on the decoy camp.

But as they drew closer, the camp remained eerily silent.

"What's going on?" the general muttered, his instincts pricking. He raised his hand, halting the advance, and motioned for a group of soldiers to investigate.

The soldiers approached cautiously, only to find the camp empty. The fires burned unattended, and the tents were nothing more than hastily erected shells.

"It's a trap!" the general's eyes widened in realization, but before he could give the order to retreat, arrows rained down from the valley slopes.

The resistance had sprung their trap. Arrows tore into the imperial ranks, and within moments, dozens of soldiers fell. Chaos erupted as the resistance fighters charged down from both sides of the valley, weapons drawn, crashing into the disoriented imperial troops.

Caught off guard and trapped in the narrow valley, the imperials struggled to organize a defense. Zhang Xing led the charge, wielding his blade with precision and ferocity. The valley's confined space neutralized the imperial army's numerical advantage, forcing them into disarray.

"Attack!" Zhang Xing roared, driving his blade through an imperial soldier as he pressed forward. His target was clear—the enemy commander.

The battle descended into brutal hand-to-hand combat. The imperial musketeers, unable to reload in the chaos, were overwhelmed as the resistance fighters slashed through their ranks. Hemmed in by the cliffs, the imperial soldiers could neither retreat nor reform their lines.

Realizing the trap too late, the imperial general's face twisted with frustration. "We've been led into a deathtrap. If we don't retreat now, we'll all die here." He quickly ordered a withdrawal.

But the order came too late. The resistance forces had already cut off their escape route, trapping the imperial soldiers in the valley. The bandits, led by their fierce warriors, attacked from the rear, splitting the imperial force in two.

The battle raged for hours. Screams of the wounded and the clash of steel echoed off the valley walls. Zhang Xing's armor was soaked with blood, but he fought on relentlessly, knowing this was their only chance. If they didn't annihilate the imperial forces tonight, they wouldn't survive the next attack.

"Commander down!" Li He's voice rang out. Zhang Xing turned to see the bandit leader standing triumphantly over the body of the imperial general, who lay slain beneath his horse. With their commander dead, the remaining imperial soldiers lost all cohesion and scattered in panic.

Zhang Xing let out a long breath, his gaze sweeping the battlefield. The valley was strewn with the bodies of fallen soldiers, imperial armor gleaming dully in the moonlight. Those who had not been killed were fleeing, trying desperately to escape the massacre.

"Pursue them! Don't let a single one escape!" the bandit leader shouted, leading his men to chase down the remnants of the imperial force.

Zhang Xing didn't join the chase. He stood in the middle of the valley, his mind clear despite the carnage. They had won. The imperial main force had been destroyed. But he knew this was only a temporary victory. The court wouldn't let this defeat go unpunished. The next wave of imperial troops would come, stronger and better prepared.

Li He joined him, panting. "Zhang Xing, we did it! This time, they won't underestimate us again."

Zhang Xing nodded, his expression unreadable. "Yes, but this is far from over. We need to prepare for an even greater challenge."

He turned his gaze to the horizon, beyond the valley. The world outside was changing, ignited by the rebellion they had sparked. Their defiance had caught the court's attention, and everything they did from now on would shape the future of the land.

Zhang Xing knew the storm was only just beginning.