319.
Night had fully fallen, and all light vanished from the river at Chizhou.
The enemy fortress crouched in the distance like a single black mass.
Each time the wind shifted, the pattern of the ripples changed.
Xu Da watched those patterns for a long time.
He ordered the lamps inside the command tent extinguished.
Narrowing his eyes in the darkness, he said,
"Light deceives the eye.
Tonight, read the enemy with your senses."
"Do not use cavalry.
Every ten paces, feel the soil.
Check for traps before moving forward."
Turning to the scouts, he continued,
"You must learn where the water has been blocked and where it has been released.
Use your nose.
If you smell water mixed with fresh earth, it is a trap.
If you sense the trace of human hands, it is a trap.
Be careful."
One of the officers asked,
"Shall we advance close to the walls?"
Xu Da considered briefly, then replied,
"Go—but not too close.
Advance only as far as positions where our siege weapons could be deployed.
The fortress is an illusion.
The enemy is not inside the walls, but outside them."
The scouts soon vanished into the darkness.
This time, their numbers were considerable.
Their footsteps were swallowed by the water.
Xu Da stood motionless like a stake driven into the ground, slowly pressing his boot into the soil beneath him.
He did not look at the battlefield—
he felt it.
As night deepened, the earth should have cooled.
Yet here, faint warmth remained in the soil.
Someone had worked this ground recently.
He murmured,
"They've turned Chizhou into a deadly terrain."
An aide asked,
"What do you mean?"
"Water must flow.
But here, it lingers.
Someone has blocked its course.
That is why it has deepened.
It is a trap."
His gaze reached toward the base of the city walls.
Perfect silence reigned there.
The silence of a battlefield is artificial.
And what is artificial is a trap.
The Scouts' Advance
Xu Da's reconnaissance force numbered roughly eighty men.
All were hardened veterans of the Jiangnan campaigns, confident in their skill.
They did not know that the plain before Chizhou had already become a living trap.
Mud Pits and Staked Timber
The first ten men rounded a cluster of stones and descended beneath a low rise.
At a glance, it appeared to be flat grassland.
The moment the lead soldier stepped forward—
thud!
The ground collapsed.
As his ankle sank into mud and his balance broke,
bamboo stakes surged upward from below.
Thin iron-edged blades pierced his foot and shin.
When he screamed, the soldiers behind rushed to pull him free—
and fell into the trap themselves.
Three sank at once.
Mud splashed.
From beneath, came the dull clack of iron scraping bone.
"Don't step there! Turn back!"
The unit leader shouted, but it was too late.
Brushwood suspended beneath the soil gave way,
and the passage collapsed entirely.
Spike Nets and Steel Cords
Another squad detoured along a side route.
They stepped onto woven caltrop nets—
interlaced steel wires hidden beneath the ground.
When one soldier pushed the wire aside,
a concealed trigger released.
Whrrrk—!
Three short bolts tore through the air,
piercing flank and face.
At the same moment, steel cords snapped taut,
wrapping around the legs of those behind him.
As they fell, small fire-pots hidden beneath fallen leaves detonated.
Flame burst forth.
Smoke rose.
Armor glowed red-hot in an instant.
Horse Traps and Antler Stakes
A unit advancing along the wooded slope to the left moved deeper into the forest.
The path looked clear—
but the trees had been deliberately half-cut.
As horses passed, buried twin-beam traps activated.
Two long logs snapped together, hoisting soldiers upward
and flinging them violently aside.
Above them, antler stakes fell.
Spiked timbers drove between helmets,
pinning bodies like offerings to the trees.
"Help me!"
A soldier flailed in midair.
Another, reaching for his leg, slipped on blood
and tumbled down a rocky slope—
into a pit lined with wooden spears.
Horse Pits and Rockfall
The reconnaissance leader, observing from behind, signaled,
"Withdraw. Move uphill."
The ground beneath him gave way.
A horse pit collapsed.
Man and mount plunged together.
Metallic sounds rang upward.
Iron hooks tore through flesh.
The bottom was layered with bamboo reinforced by steel blades.
Blood burst forth as the horse screamed and thrashed.
Then, from the mountainside, a rockfall mechanism released.
Boulders thundered down, sealing the pit.
The survivors fled toward higher ground.
The Curtain of Arrows
From the ridge above, Park Seong-jin's deputy raised his hand.
"Now."
At once, bows along the hillside moved as one.
Buried trigger frames snapped,
launching dozens of short bolts in every direction—
without sound,
without light.
The bolts sliced through the air,
piercing the napes of soldiers already collapsing.
Within seconds, movement ceased.
Sound vanished.
Only the wind returned,
and across the pale ground,
blood spread like thin veins.
When Xu Da arrived at last,
the scouts' bodies lay tangled together, scorched and broken.
His lips trembled as he spoke quietly,
"This is not a fortress…
it is a field of traps."