Chapter 85: Longing to See Sincerity

"Father-in-law, I was only gone for a moment, and you were really planning to die for me?" Chen Cong joked with Cao Cao, but his eyes were fixed coldly on Li Jue, as if he were already staring at a dead man.

Li Jue felt a chill from that gaze and involuntarily shrank back within his cavalry ranks.

Cao Cao smiled, "My son has yet to meet his grandfather; how could I bear to die before that?"

"To be honest—"

"Hmm?"

"The name you chose for him… is truly terrible."

With that, Chen Cong flicked his reins, rode to the front of the formation, and coldly uttered, "Kill."

Five hundred White Horse Cavalry leveled their lances and, outnumbered ten to one, charged without hesitation.

Xu Chu did not join the charge but instead dismounted and stood by Cao Cao's side, gripping his blade, a hint of guilt in his voice, "I was wrong."

Cao Cao, hands clasped behind his back, asked casually, "Where were you wrong?"

Xu Chu shouted, "As your Tiger Warrior, I must not leave your side even for a moment!"

"Wrong again!"

"What?"

Cao Cao pointed at Chen Cong's retreating figure. "Did you not hear that rascal's nonsense? There is a saying: if the lord is insulted, the subject must die. Why do you not rage?"

Xu Chu was silent for a moment. "I also find the name unpleasant."

"You blockhead! How dare you!" Cao Cao looked around, seeking something handy to hit him with.

...

Each man serves his own master.

Li Jue's desire to kill Chen Cong's father-in-law and concubine was only human nature. Chen Cong did not fault him for it—he simply wanted to hack him to pieces.

Since arriving in this world, never had he so fiercely wanted someone dead.

Battle lust blazed in his eyes.

Chen Cong spurred his horse, charging headlong into the Liang cavalry formation with reckless abandon.

At full force, the hundred-pound war axe in his hands moved not with ponderous weight, but with the ease of a light stick.

Others used heavy weapons to strike with overwhelming force, but such power meant slow swings and wide openings in their defenses.

But in Chen Cong's grip, the massive axe seemed weightless—a branch, a cudgel. He swung it down to cleave, reversed to smash, the blows impossibly fast and devastatingly strong.

In the time it took to drink a cup of tea, a hundred Liang cavalrymen had fallen.

Those struck head-on were the lucky ones; at worst, they and their horses were hewn in half—a gruesome death, but quick.

But those caught by the flat or back of the axe discovered new depths of misery. Some had their skulls split in half, fragments of bone visibly scattered as they fell. Others had their chests caved in, ribs piercing flesh, howling in agony before dying. Some had their spines shattered, leaving the lower body seated on horseback while the upper body flopped limply about—death slow and inevitable.

Chen Cong rampaged without restraint. His horse, exhausted past its limit, collapsed to its knees after just ten more strides.

Li Jue was overjoyed at the sight.

"All troops, listen to my command! Shoot Chen Cong! Shoot him!"

In such a dense formation, loosing arrows in all directions would easily bring down their own men. Even firing in one direction without care would risk scattering their cavalry.

But Li Jue was past caring. He was truly terrified.

Now he wanted only one thing: Chen Cong dead.

Yet the scene he anticipated—Chen Cong bristling with arrows—never came.

After Li Jue gave the order, nothing happened.

No one reached for a bow, nor nocked an arrow.

Those further away turned their horses and slowly withdrew.

Those nearer yanked their mounts to a halt, frantically urging them backward, colliding with the charging cavalry behind.

In that moment, Chen Cong's fall from his horse seemed to press a ceasefire button.

Some fled, some fell—no one truly wanted to die.

The Liang Iron Cavalry were indeed brave, but they were not invincible. They too felt fear.

The formation began to scatter on its own, leaving a wide, empty space.

And behind that man, a hellish scene was revealed.

Thick blood pooled into streams; chunks of flesh, large and small, littered the ground. No one could say how many had died, and the faint cries of the wounded sent a chill through every heart.

Chen Cong rose, adjusted his helmet, and dragged his axe forward, wiping the blood from his left hand on his body—though, drenched as he was, it only spread the gore further.

A path to Li Jue opened up as the men stepped aside.

"What are you doing? Kill him! Kill him!! A thousand gold for the head of Chen Cong—no, ten thousand!!" Li Jue howled hysterically, but it was useless.

One man spurred his horse and fled, then another, then a third; soon it became a rout.

When Li Jue tried to run, an arrow whistled through the air, piercing his horse's left eye and exiting through the right.

The White Horse Cavalry, having caught up, reined their mounts to a halt.

After a moment's silence, they shouted as one, "Invincible!"

Heavy footsteps drew closer. Li Jue's hands shook so badly he could not draw his sword. Chen Cong discarded his massive axe, gripping his iron-banded bow in reverse.

Li Jue, well-versed in such matters, understood immediately.

This fiend meant to strangle him to death.

He threw down his sword and fell to his knees, shouting, "I surrender! I surrender!"

When the demon ignored him, he turned and cried loudly, "Lord Cao! General Who Conquers the West! I, Li Jue, surrender—I am skilled with cavalry, let me serve you!"

Cao Cao’s voice rang out from afar, "Is your heart truly in it?"

Li Jue was delighted, kowtowing furiously, "Truly! I have no second thoughts!"

"Excellent, for I wish to see just how true your heart is."

Li Jue was momentarily baffled—how could one see a heart?

Chen Cong, too, was briefly speechless, but slung his iron bow onto his back once more.

He strode forward, seized Li Jue, and with clawed hand, tore open his ribs and chest, pulling out a beating heart and tossing it far toward Cao Cao.

...

With the commander dead, what remained was a broken, demoralized army—not even worthy of Chen Cong's attention.

As he turned back to find Dong Bai, he happened upon a whispered conversation between mistress and maid.

"Miss, Master is truly brave," Xiao Lian's eyes sparkled.

The folk of Liangzhou were fierce, and it was no surprise for women to admire warriors.

"Alright, alright, I know. You were part of my dowry—I'll speak to my husband and have him take you in," Dong Bai declared grandly.

"Miss~~"

For the first time, Chen Cong, who had never feared charging into battle, felt a chill to his very core.

Was this, by heaven, a plot against her own husband?

And Xiao Lian… well, it would be unkind to call her ugly, especially since she served her mistress so faithfully.

But still, she was far too plain for Chen Cong's tastes—he could not appreciate such subtle beauty.

Wait—Xu Chu!

He immediately stepped forward and scolded, "Enough of that! Just yesterday, Zhongkang asked for Xiao Lian, and I agreed. Stop playing matchmaker here."

"Oh…" Dong Bai replied, aggrieved.

Xiao Lian, however, was not at all disheartened. She stole a glance at Xu Chu—broad as a barrel, fierce and wild, a true man's man.

Xu Chu instinctively puffed out his chest.

He had little hope of rank or titles yet, but at least he could do his family proud and carry on the Xu line.

Chen Zining found it perplexing.

Why did men overlook robust, healthy women in favor of those fragile, delicate ones—a single punch and they'd be gone. Forget serving parents-in-law or running a household; you were lucky if they didn't need serving themselves.

How dull…