The Sickly Regent Prince Who Was Abandoned as a Substitute Bride

Li Zhong was taken aback upon hearing this, then gritted his teeth. He knew Zhao Xuan's temperament well; this was no time for hesitation. "Take care, General!" he roared, forcing back the enemy in front of him with a backhand slash, and then grabbed two guards beside him. "Follow me!" The three of them immediately moved closer together, protecting the bundle in the middle, and charged towards the direction Zhao Xuan had indicated, their feet treading through the snow.

But the men in black seemed to have anticipated this move. Almost the instant Li Zhong moved, seven or eight men suddenly broke through from the east side of the encirclement and pounced like hungry wolves. The leader was exceptionally tall and wielded a heavy ghost-headed saber. The blade whistled as it slashed down, forcing Li Zhong and his companions to stop in their tracks.

"Trying to leave? Not so easy!" the tall man in black roared, sweeping his ghost-headed dagger horizontally. Old Zhou was forced to abandon his defense and tumble backward in a sorry state. His shoulder was still grazed by the blade, and blood immediately gushed out.

Zhao Xuan's heart tightened. He knew he couldn't delay any longer. He stomped his foot on the frozen ground and shot forward like an arrow, his longsword aimed straight for the tall man in black's back. "Your opponent is me!" he roared, his sword strike as sharp as lightning, forcing the man in black to parry. With a loud clang, the moment the swords clashed, Zhao Xuan felt a numbness in his arm, realizing just how powerful his opponent's internal energy was. He used the recoil to spin and dodge the blade, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw Li Zhong and the other two take advantage of the opening to rush forward several steps, only a few feet away from the sparsely wooded area.

Victory seemed to be just around the corner. Old Zhou, clutching his bleeding shoulder, still struggled to swing his short knife and cleave the blades thrusting at him; Little Ma, on the other hand, used his body to shield the bundle, a long gash cut into his back, blood soaking through his robes and leaving a striking red trail on the snow.

Just then, a series of rapid footsteps suddenly echoed from the depths of the forest, the "thump-thump-thump" sound causing the accumulated snow to fall in a flurry. Out of the corner of his eye, Zhao Xuan saw that more than twenty men in black had emerged from the dense forest to the northeast! They had clearly been lying in ambush there, and now they had blocked Li Zhong's path. The curved blades in their hands reflected a cold light, like a net that had been laid out in advance, just waiting for its prey to walk into it.

"Not good!" Zhao Xuan's heart sank, and his sword almost went astray. He had thought the sparse trees in the northeast were a weakness, but now it seemed that it was a deliberate trap! These people not only predicted their breakout, but they also knew their escape route perfectly. The meticulousness of their plan was chilling.

Li Zhong and his two companions were tightly entangled by the newly arrived men in black. They were forced back after taking only a few steps forward and fell back into the center of the encirclement. Old Zhou was stabbed in the leg and fell to his knees in the snow with a thud. He struggled to get up, but Xiao Ma grabbed him—if he got up again, he would probably become a victim of the knife.

Zhao Xuan swiftly turned his sword, forcing back the enemy in front of him, cold sweat already beading on his forehead. Looking at the ever-growing number of men in black surrounding him, he suddenly realized that this ambush was far more terrifying than he had imagined. The enemy not only knew their whereabouts, but also their tactical habits and the strength of their personal guards; otherwise, they would never have set up such a flawless trap.

"A traitor... there must be a traitor." Zhao Xuan's throat tightened, and his hand gripping the sword trembled slightly. Was it someone in the military camp? Or an informant in the Prince's mansion? They even knew that Li Zhong was his most trusted guard, and they even calculated that it was safest for three people to escort the secret letter... Just how deeply hidden is the person behind this?

The sounds of fighting grew fiercer, the guards' breathing became heavier, and the speed of their swordplay slowed. Zhao Xuan glanced at the encircled package at the core, then looked at the dense forest to the west—that was the direction back to camp, where Zhang Wu should be leading the remaining men to hold the line. "Zhang Wu, you have to hold on," he murmured to himself, "Reinforcements... must come quickly."

But now, it was no use saying anything. Zhao Xuan took a deep breath, clearing his mind of all distractions, and raised his sword once more. Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the branches, casting dappled shadows on his blood-stained face, but a fiercer fire burned in his eyes.

"Brothers, grip your knives tight!" he roared, his voice so powerful it sent snow crashing down from the branches. "Even if it costs us our lives, we must get this secret message out!"

Before he finished speaking, he had already charged towards the men in black to the northeast. His longsword cut through the cold wind, drawing a resolute arc across the snow, as if determined to carve a path through the encirclement.

The north wind whipped up snowflakes that lashed at his face like countless needles. Zhao Xuan shattered the half-foot-thick ice shell beneath his feet with a sudden burst of speed, his body shooting out like an arrow released from a bow—this was no ordinary charge, but rather a raging, striped tiger crashing into a restless flock of sheep!

His longsword trailed a gleaming silver arc in the snowstorm, and as its spine cleaved through the oncoming blades, the metallic hum could be heard. The first man in black barely showed a crack in his neck before the sword licked across him like a venomous snake, scalding blood splattering onto the snow and instantly creating a dozen or so dark red craters. The second, the third… Zhao Xuan's figure darted left and right among the men in black, each turn sending up a spray of blood. The once impenetrable wall of men in the northeast was torn open, a gap over ten feet wide, the sounds of shattered weapons and agonizing cries echoing through the snowstorm.

But the breach had barely appeared when the men in black surged in from both sides like a tidal wave. Some charged forward with shields, while others, taking advantage of their numbers, thrust short blades from behind. Zhao Xuan was struck hard on the shoulder, staggering half a step. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a trail of blood winding across the snow—his own blood, mingling with the blood of the men in black, staining the entire snowfield an eerie crimson. He clenched his teeth, tasting the metallic sweetness of rust on his tongue. His longsword suddenly accelerated, the wind sweeping through it lifting half a foot of snow. Each strike carried the power to shatter mountains and split rocks, as if he were pouring all his rage into the cold steel.

"Go!" Zhao Xuan's roar echoed through the snowstorm as Li Zhong and his two companions burst through the gap in the path. Li Zhong swung his heavy iron ruler, smashing a black-clad man lunging at him from the right, causing his ribs to cave in. Xiao Ma clutched his bundle tightly to his chest, his back already slashed three times, yet he still charged forward, his body hunched over. Old Zhou's left arm hung limply, blood soaking half his sleeve, but his right hand, gripping a short knife, remained as steady as a rock, each twist of the blade precisely deflecting weapons aimed at Xiao Ma's back. Back to back, the three men moved with difficulty through the flashing blades, their boots crunching through the snow, leaving a trail of bloody footprints of varying depths as they made their way towards the dark forest in the distance.

Just as Xiao Ma's fingertips were about to touch the outermost withered branch, a sudden gust of cold wind swept up from behind. The man in black appeared out from behind a snowdrift, his figure as fast as a shadow, his black robe almost blending into the night in the wind and snow. His fingers curled up like eagle claws, dark brown scabs of blood still clinging to his fingernails, and he reached straight for the bundle in Xiao Ma's arms—the bundle was wrapped in layers of thick cotton cloth, with glimpses of gilded patterns peeking out from the corners, clearly something of vital importance that everyone was fighting to the death to protect.

"Watch out!" Old Zhou's hoarse shout had barely escaped when Xiao Ma whirled around, taking the blow head-on from the attacker's claw with his back. Five bloody welts instantly appeared on his cotton-padded coat, but he seemed oblivious to the pain, clutching the bundle tightly to his chest. With his other hand, he grabbed the black-clad man's robe, and the two began to wrestle in the snow. The black-clad man's moves were vicious; his knee slammed into Xiao Ma's ribs, and just as he was about to succeed, Old Zhou, dragging his injured arm, lunged forward, his short knife whistling as it stabbed towards the black-clad man's lower back.

Zhao Xuan's eyes widened in horror, his heart clenching as if gripped by an invisible hand. He kicked the black-clad man in front of him away, his longsword swirling in a circular arc above his head, forcing back the enemies on either side. His feet trampled over the corpses of his comrades and enemies, and he charged towards Xiao Ma like a madman. Blood splattered across the snow under his feet, each step feeling like walking on a red-hot iron, but his eyes were fixed only on that figure rolling in the snow, his ears filled with the howling wind and the clanging of weapons, even his own breathing sounding like a broken bellows.

Just then, a powerful horn sound suddenly came from afar.

The sound pierced through the wind and snow, carrying the sharp edge of a battle, striking everyone's eardrums with each note. When the first note rang out, Zhao Xuan thought it was an illusion, but when the second and third notes followed in succession, the stirring melody echoing across the open field, he suddenly widened his eyes—it was reinforcements! The bugle call contained a familiar rhythm, the tune they had become accustomed to hearing every day during the camp's drills!

The sound was like molten lava flowing into cold blood vessels. Zhao Xuan felt a surge of strength coursing through his limbs, even easing the pain in his shoulder. Little Ma, who had somehow rolled over and was now biting the black-clad man's wrist tightly, grinned a blood-stained smile upon hearing the horn. Old Zhou's previously pale face regained color, and he wielded his short knife with even greater ferocity.

But the men in black panicked. Some of them began to tremble, their hands holding knives quivering; others instinctively turned to look in the direction from which the horn had sounded. Their previously impenetrable attack faltered for a moment. Zhao Xuan seized this fleeting opportunity, his longsword pointing straight to the sky, his voice booming: "Reinforcements have arrived—Kill!"

The roar echoed across the wilderness, startling the snow on the branches into a flurry of falling snow. Li Zhong was the first to respond, smashing his opponent's wrist with an iron ruler; Xiao Ma shoved aside the man in black on his back and lunged forward half a zhang while clutching his bundle; even the injured Lao Zhou staggered to his feet, drops of blood from his dagger falling onto the snow, blooming into crimson flowers.

Zhao Xuan's longsword once again unleashed a shower of blood, this time with no hesitation in his steps. The wind and snow seemed to cheer them on, carrying the sounds of horns and battle cries towards the sky. Those once arrogant men in black, now, in the face of their desperate counterattack, were gradually losing their ferocity, transforming into an ever-growing number of corpses in the snow.

The bugle call still echoed in the wind and snow when Zhao Xuan's cry of "Kill!" landed, and the surrounding shouts of battle erupted like thunder. The crowd, who had just been suffocating under the oppressive weight, now had bloodshot eyes, like tinder ready to be ignited. Li Zhong dragged his iron ruler forward, smashing it so hard the end embedded itself in the shoulder blade of a man in black, throwing him to the ground in the snow. Xiao Ma, though exhausted, still gripped his broken sword, desperately holding off an enemy lunging from the side. Even Old Zhou, whose arm was too injured to lift, smashed the nose of anyone who approached with the hilt of his sword—this was no mere desperate struggle; it was a pack of tigers breaking free of their shackles, drawn by the scent of blood, pouncing on their scattered prey.

Zhao Xuan was always at the forefront. His longsword was already soaked in blood, and the blood droplets clinging to the tassel splattered on the snow with each swing. The black-clad men coming towards him tried to parry with their swords, but Zhao Xuan's sword was too fast, so fast that they couldn't even see the moves. They only felt a cold light flash past before their throats went cold. One of the black-clad men, relying on his youth and strength, thrust his spear straight at Zhao Xuan's heart. Zhao Xuan didn't dodge or evade. With a flick of his wrist, his longsword slid up the spear shaft, the blade grazing the man's arm. Before a scream could even rise, his knee had already slammed into the man's abdomen. This series of movements was as fast as lightning. When he charged forward again, three corpses lay behind him. The black-clad men, who had initially formed an encirclement, visibly tightened their circle, like a sack being clenched by an invisible hand.

Just then, a rapid clatter of hooves suddenly echoed from the edge of the snowstorm. The sound initially resembled muffled thunder rolling across the frozen earth, gradually growing clearer, even causing the snow beneath their feet to tremble slightly. Out of the corner of their eyes, they caught a glimpse of a moving black shadow emerging from the distant snow curtain. The lead rider was particularly conspicuous—the chestnut warhorse danced like a flame in the snowstorm, and the general on horseback, clad in black armor, had snow swept away by the rushing wind, revealing his sharply defined face.

"It's General Zhang Wu!" Someone recognized the newcomer, and shouts of surprise instantly spread.

Zhang Wu's long spear pointed diagonally at the ground, its tip slicing through the snow, leaving a long trail. Behind him, elite cavalry formed a three-tiered wedge formation, their hooves kicking up snow that created two trails of white mist on either side of the column. His spear pointed diagonally to the sky, its tip gleaming coldly in the dim light. When they were still dozens of paces from the men in black, Zhang Wu roared, his warhorse rearing up, its forehooves shattering the snow-covered mist. The entire cavalry, like a black whirlwind, crashed into the men in black's formation!

"Thud—" The muffled sounds of spears piercing flesh echoed one after another. The men in black at the front had no time to react before their breastbones were crushed by horses' hooves or they were lifted off the ground by spears. The cavalry was like a red-hot iron plow, carving three bloody paths through the men in black, and the already broken formation was instantly shattered. Some tried to escape to the sides, but were cut down by the cavalrymen following behind with their sabers; others ran desperately towards the dense forest, only to be crushed into snowdrifts by horses' hooves after a few steps.

The men in black were thrown into complete chaos. Their once fierce eyes were now filled with fear. Some threw down their weapons and knelt to beg for mercy, some ripped off their blood-stained black robes and tried to blend into the snow, while many more scattered and fled like headless flies. Zhao Xuan glanced at the fleeing figures but did not give chase—his gaze had already fallen on Li Zhong and his two companions not far away.