Volume One: The Emperor’s Edict Chapter Thirty-Six: The Eighteen Warlords

The chaotic battle at the crossroads did not last long before the soldiers of Salt City called for a halt. Dozens of bandits lay dead or wounded, and the opponents had lost more than half of their warhorses.

The leading general took off his helmet, reached down to touch the split seam in his armor at his waist, and felt a pang of regret. He had spent his entire savings forging this suit of armor, hoping to achieve merit and make a name for himself. Yet, before he could even start, he encountered a fool blocking the road. Tang Qiu felt as if he had punched into cotton, frustrated beyond words.

The opponent had acted defensively—their sword never struck at vital parts. Otherwise, it would not have been just the armor that was torn.

Liu Xiaoyi also ceased fighting, standing in the center of the crowd, panting heavily. “All of you, stop! Enough fighting!” His shout made the remaining bandits halt.

“Young hero, my apologies for earlier. I fear I offended you.” Tang Qiu sheathed his long saber and cupped his hands in greeting.

“You’re headed to Salt City as well? With these cavalrymen?” Drawing closer for a careful look, he noted the mismatched armor of the cavalry; some seemed cobbled together, and their fighting was crude and undisciplined. Only the leading general showed real skill—could it be that Salt City’s new recruits were all of this sort?

As they conversed, another troop of soldiers emerged from a side path, all wearing green headscarves and carrying spears, marching in orderly formation.

Seeing the banner embroidered with the character “Cao,” Tang Qiu quickly stepped aside. “Lord Cao, you are early.”

The leader, about forty years old, clad in gleaming silver armor with a sword at his waist, did not pause his stride. “Brother Tang, make haste. Most are here now.”

He glanced sidelong at Liu Xiaoyi, clearly disdainful. His force of five hundred men, compared to these ragtag bandits, were the elite of the elite.

Tang Qiu stamped his foot, reorganized his troops, and, along with Liu Xiaoyi, headed toward the city. Curiosity gnawed at him: why was Salt City recruiting a new army, and how could such a motley crew be gathered together? At the same time, Salt City was on his way to Tianwang Dao—there was only this route.

In the earlier melee, Hu San had displayed remarkable prowess, severing two horses and kicking down three men. Now, his face flushed, he followed beside Liu Xiaoyi, his shifty eyes eager to speak some pleasing words.

He had long coveted the chance to join Salt City’s new recruits. The four great salt merchants had provided funds, travel expenses, and supplies; the county magistrate oversaw their support; and the third son of the Grand General of the East, Cui Ying, raised the banner of rebellion, recruiting new soldiers for a grand cause.

On the surface, they were an insurgent army, but in truth, Tianwang Dao sought to seize the opportunity to break out and carve a territory in the chaos.

Deep within Yanliang Prefecture, this great sect of the martial world had long grown weary of the surrounding desolation, planning this campaign for decades and even binding the Grand General of the East to their cause.

Cui Ying had intended to return to Tianwang Dao with his three thousand troops, but the counties of Yanliang Prefecture had been occupied one after another. The only way forward was to fight their way through.

The new recruits were mostly expendable, yet the summons to heroes of the Eighteen Lords, once issued, stirred considerable commotion throughout the martial world.

There were four or five sizable forces, and more than ten smaller ones, piecing together a fairly substantial army.

All four gates of Salt City stood open, banners of every kind surged in, and from last night to this afternoon, the small city was crowded with weapons and armor.

Local soldiers guarded every street. In barely ten days, Salt City had become a fortified military stronghold, its sparse population replaced by preparations for war.

Upon the vast parade ground, thirty or forty different banners fluttered in the wind, and the arriving troops did their best to maintain orderly formations.

Cui Ying, calm and composed, sat on the grand chair atop the command platform, gazing across the sea of banners with satisfaction. He had expected to recruit merely expendable soldiers and leave Salt City, but unexpectedly, several capable forces could be absorbed and consolidated.

“My father forbade me to participate, still fearing I act rashly. I am twenty-five now; it’s time he rested!”

Draining his teacup, Cui Ying rose to the platform’s parapet and called out loudly, “Heroes of Yanliang! Today, I, Cui Ying, follow the will of Heaven, raise the banner of rebellion, rescue the people from fire and water, and support the state in its hour of peril!”

Horns sounded in succession, drums thundered from the watchtowers, and the atmosphere was truly that of a battlefield muster.

“Eighteen Lords of the new army, the First Route: my own force of three thousand soldiers!” The herald placed the banner at the forefront.

“Second Route: Salt City Prefecture, Duan Hongling, leading five hundred soldiers!”

“Third Route: Tianwang Dao, the chivalrous Feng Nanjue, leading eight hundred soldiers!”

“Fourth Route: Salt City’s righteous man Zhao Ge, leading two hundred soldiers!”

“Fifth Route: Salt City merchant Cao Wenzhao, leading one thousand soldiers!”

“Sixth Route: Salt City merchant Liu Wenye, leading one thousand soldiers!”

“Seventh Route: Salt City merchant Meng Wenxing, leading one thousand soldiers!”

“Eighth Route: Salt City merchant Wang Wenzuo, leading one thousand soldiers!”

“Ninth Route: righteous man Huang ShuqI from Ten-Li Slope, leading two hundred soldiers!”

“Tenth Route: righteous man Cao Renbing from Ten-Li Slope, leading three hundred soldiers!”

“Eleventh Route: righteous man Xue Yong from Sunken Boat City, leading five hundred soldiers!”

“Twelfth Route: Li Ba, chief of Cangshan Stronghold, leading eight hundred soldiers!”

“Thirteenth Route: Xi Huchen, abbot of Cangshan Qingfeng Temple, leading one thousand soldiers!”

“Fourteenth Route: Meng Junce, river chief of Suhe, leading one thousand five hundred soldiers!”

“Fifteenth Route: Zhang Ren, Ship’s Head of Suhe, leading eight hundred soldiers!”

“Sixteenth Route: Wang Ping, valley master of Pingtian Valley, leading one thousand soldiers!”

“Seventeenth Route: Tang Qiu of Tang Family Village, leading five hundred soldiers!”

After the third round of drums, seventeen routes had been called, making Cui Ying’s expression falter. The summons for the Eighteen Lords had been out for half a month, yet one route was missing.

Scanning the parade ground, he noticed a group in the corner dressed in varied attire without a proper formation. He quickly asked a nearby orderly, “Whose men are those?”

The orderly shook his head, unsure, and took the command flag over to inquire.

These troops were the bandits Liu Xiaoyi had brought along. After joining Tang Qiu’s force into the parade ground, they discovered a few hundred foot soldiers already waiting.

Hu San and his fellow bandits, accustomed to living in the woods, had never seen such spectacle. They were delighted, scattering to chat everywhere.

“Who’s in charge here?” The orderly squeezed into the group, unsure whom to address.

Liu Xiaoyi raised his hand in response. “That would be me. Is there something you need?” Unless absolutely necessary, he truly disliked admitting these were his men.

“May I ask your name? How many soldiers do you command?”

Soon, a makeshift command flag was raised at the end: “Eighteenth Route of the Lords, Liu Xiaoyi the Righteous from Three Mountain City, leading over three hundred soldiers!”