The firelight trembled and leaped in the wind and rain, consuming the grey-black fuse, disappearing into the steel.

A thunderous boom erupted in the cold wind as the cannon recoiled, the iron ball carving a visible path through the dim rain, soaring across the battlefield.

The burning fuse on the cannonball was extinguished mid-air by the rain, but the iron ball continued its descent, crashing down upon the heads of the enemy with a sickening thud. A figure flew through the rain, scattering blood as it tumbled into the crowd, sending mud and water erupting in all directions.

With a whoosh, the charging Jurchen veteran didn't blink, nor did he acknowledge the fall of his comrade. His body was fully extended in a powerful motion, arm raised, stepping forward, hand swinging. His arm cleaved through the grey rain, scattering countless droplets in the space between heaven and earth. The iron spear, longer than his arm, hurtled through the air.

Following that first spear came a dozen more, whistling across the battlefield, over the clashing front lines, past the black flags waving in the rain. Some shattered against raised shields, others, carrying lethal momentum, pierced through the chests of Chinese soldiers, pinning their bloodied corpses to the ground.

Blood mixed with mountain rainwater and washed downwards. Nearby, the clash of iron shields at the vanguard of the two armies had become skewed and chaotic.

"Fire! Switch to solid shot!" Mao Yishan roared in the rain. "Second Battalion, Second Company, follow up!"

Another volley of spears flew from the front. The iron javelins landed on the ground in a twisted, uneven array. Some Chinese soldiers were impaled, their mouths gushing blood as they roared. Several brave warriors raised their shields to protect the approaching medical officers, but soon their struggling bodies became corpses. Distant spears struck their shields with chilling crashes, but the soldiers held firm.

Reinforcements followed, advancing with shields raised, the terrifying crashes sounding incessantly.

At the same time, the bases of several cannons sank into the mud, firing shells into the rear of the enemy formation. The Chinese army possessed explosive shells, but their detonation relied on a fuse ignited by the cannon's firing, which delayed the explosion of the shell's internal explosives. In the rain, such shells had little effect.

At that moment, the front-line confrontation regressed to the square formations of more than a decade prior.

Walls of shields pushed against each other along the battle lines, comrades behind them constantly pushing forward, trying to topple the enemy, spears thrusting through gaps in the shields. Chinese soldiers occasionally threw hand grenades. Some exploded, but most landed in the mud – in this valley, the water had risen to the knees of both sides, and some soldiers who fell were even drowned.

The heavy rain negated the power of bows and crossbows. Mao Yishan threw all the usable cannonballs and the few hand grenades he had managed to conserve into the battle. The Jurchens chose sharp, heavy javelins that flew over the shield walls and plunged into the mass of soldiers, becoming deadly instruments of death.

This was the offensive strategy that Jurchen veteran Commander Elili had determined long ago. At a moment when technological advantage had not yet created a decisive gap, his chosen tactics effectively closed the exchange ratio between the two sides.

In the brief moments after the rockfall at Eagle's Beak, the casualty numbers of both sides escalated at an alarming rate. The shouts and roars on the front line were chilling. These were all veterans with a resolute will to fight to the death.

In the blink of an eye, comrades fell, and reinforcements surged forward, both sides reacting with equal swiftness. But it was the Chinese soldiers who first broke the stalemate. Although Jurchen javelins caused significant casualties behind the Chinese shield wall, hand grenades were the true weapon of disruption. When two fortunate grenades exploded on the backs of the shield-bearing soldiers in front, the Jurchen formation suddenly buckled!

The shield wall surged forward, and sharp blades and spears thrust out along this opening, killing those Jurchen warriors. Some of the warriors were even wearing lamellar armor, but they were quickly cut down.

Another volley of javelins rained down. The Jurchen lines separated to either side, at great cost, and their reinforcements charged forward!

With a total of only two thousand soldiers, the formations filled the valley. Each battle line consisted of dozens of men, with a couple of hundred men charging at a time. Although retreat meant defeat, it wouldn't lead to the total collapse seen on battlefields with thousands of soldiers. At that moment, Elili's side suffered a loss of twenty or thirty men, dragging the front line into the depths of the valley.

The lines of advance and defense became distorted, and the fighting at the front of the battle became chaotic. Elili roared, urging his men to attack one side of the front line. The Chinese lines were weakened on either side as the center pushed forward, and the Jurchen flank began to advance, attempting to form a bag and swallow the Chinese army in the middle.

"Jurchen, victory!"

"Blast them!"

The remaining cannonballs slammed into the mountainside, sending rocks crashing down into the crowd. Two cannons misfired in the damp environment, and messengers arrived to report that the hand grenades were exhausted. The Chinese reinforcements descended from the slopes, while the Jurchen formation pressed up from the valley floor. Javelins whistled, cannonballs roared, and the intense battle reached a fever pitch in an instant.

...

Against the mountain wind and rain, the specially crafted arrowheads cut through the sky, creating a sharp whine.

In the undulating mountain forest, a Jurchen scout carefully moving, noticed the movement and peered through the trees to determine the direction. Scouts who climbed to higher positions were alerted, looking around the surrounding hills. After one sound disappeared, another sound came from the woods outside, and shortly after another came. The information of these signal arrows began relaying towards Rainwater Creek.

That afternoon, Qu Zhengyan received a message that the attack was to commence.

In his sight, the positions guarded by the Fifth Division were still under constant assault from the numerically superior Jurchen forces. Qu Zhengyan lowered his binoculars:

"The time for the counterattack has arrived."

In the complex terrain of Rainwater Creek, support teams were making their way to the front of the battlefield through small paths in the rain.

...

Several miles behind Rainwater Creek, in the wounded soldier encampment...

A signal arrow cut through the sky.

Before Zou Hu's eyes, Ren Hengchong, a powerful figure in the greenwood, suddenly exerted force with his legs. His figure was like a cannonball, bursting through the scattered cold rain, with mud and water erupting like lotus flowers beneath his feet. In a blink of an eye, he extended towards the tent, where blood had already bloomed.

There were many soldiers in the vicinity of the wounded soldiers' encampment. After the signal arrow was fired, they had little time to react. But the target was now in sight, and Ren Hengchong's power was reaching its peak.

The sudden exertion of a grandmaster's power was terrifying. Zou Hu's scalp tingled. He clicked his tongue in awe and became excited, blood surging through his veins and power soaring.

As long as they could capture that young man in a short time, the wounded soldiers' encampment would be nothing more than a collection of the old, weak and crippled.

His party would still be able to escape.

As the thought crossed his mind, he rushed two *zhang* forward. The young man who rushed out of the tent at the far end of his vision instantly killed the first three to arrive on the scene. Ren Hengchong approached like a storm, and with only one *zhang* remaining, he reached out. A strong gale cut through the wind and rain, and the young man ducked down, brandishing his sword. Unexpectedly, he traded a blow with Ren Hengchong.

The fist slammed into the tent, and the entire tent shook. Half of it was ripped into the air with a whoosh. Ren Hengchong had also been running too fast. His feet kicked up the ground, creating a semicircular inertial trajectory in front of the tent. His arm was about to grab the young man.

At that moment, they overlooked the fact that wounded soldiers could be lightly or seriously injured.

Behind Ren Hengchong, a pair of arms suddenly pushed up a devouring silhouette on a piece of cloth. Before the momentum of Ren Hengchong's wild run could be completely dissipated, it covered him from head to toe.

The tent completely enveloped Ren Hengchong. The greenwood leader, like a shark caught in a net, punched wildly inside the bag. The young man named Ning Ji turned around and threw the surgical dagger. He didn't pay any more attention to Ren Hengchong, but instead brandished the ancient sword and killed towards Zou Hu and the others. Behind Ren Hengchong, a man with a knife raised his blade and madly hacked at the figure wrapped in the tent. In the blink of an eye, blood dyed the cloth red.

Ren Hengchong tore open the cloth. Half of his body was a bloody mess. He opened his mouth and howled wildly. A hand suddenly reached out from the side, pressed down on his face, and slammed him into the mud with a bang. A foot stomped heavily on his chest. The man in loose clothing next to him drew another knife across the greenwood leader's neck.

This first wave of people who woke up and rushed over after being startled by the signal arrow were all wounded soldiers.

Zou Hu's legs went weak, and he turned and ran.

More figures of wounded soldiers broke through the rain, rushing over here with the soldiers...

...

Eagle's Beak.

The heated battle continued for half an hour in the narrow valley. In the first half hour, there had been several shield wall clashes, but after that, there was only the continuous and frenzied fighting of skirmishers. The Jurchens charged up the slopes again and again, and the Chinese soldiers charged down again and again.

The cannons gradually stopped firing. The Jurchen were still throwing javelins, and the Chinese soldiers picked them up and pointed them back towards the Jurchens. Blood and sacrifice were increasing every moment.

Both sides had a reason to want a quick victory at that moment.

Elili was worried about the eventual arrival of Chinese reinforcements, which would prevent them from gaining a foothold here. Mao Yishan was also worried about the Jurchen reinforcements continuously climbing over the rubble at the mouth of the valley. Several charges had pushed the blades to the enemy commanders' eyes. Elili had led his troops to fight in the mud several times, and Mao Yishan had also thrown his reserves into the front lines.

The sky was gloomy like a cold night. The slow but seemingly endless winter rain was still falling. People's bodies rapidly lost heat in the mud. In the wet valley, long knives cut across necks, blood splattered, and countless roars filled the air. Mao Yishan swung his shield and knocked away the Jurchens in front of him, advancing through the knee-deep mud.

"Rally to me—"

"Jurchen, victory!"

A sharp javelin almost grazed his neck. The mud in front of him churned as the soldiers ran. A comrade came over, Mao Yishan raised his shield, and a long knife came crashing down from the front.

With a bang, Mao Yishan's arm flexed, his shoulder pushing against the shield. Using the momentum, he flipped the shield, and his steel knife slashed out violently. The opponent's blade struck again, and the two steel knives collided heavily in the air. The sounds of fighting were all around.

The Jurchen general holding the long knife took two steps back. His comrades strung together four shields with long spears, and carried them over. Mao Yishan shouted: "Form shield wall!" His comrades came closer, and a small shield wall suddenly formed. "Charge!"

The footsteps of both sides pushed aside the water, and the shields collided violently. Some used all their strength, some slashed with their blades, and some slipped in the mud. Many people fell into the mud on both sides of the shield wall. Mao Yishan dragged up his comrades, supported the iron shield and swung it with all his might. Elili was knocked back a step with his men and his blade. He steadied himself, gripping his blade with both hands. Mao Yishan lowered his stance, a solid mountain with shield in hand, his eyes meeting the other's.

"Kill—"

In the rain, in the mud, figures surged and collided!