Chapter Seventeen: Close Quarters Combat

Page 1/3

Lin Shize crouched before him, eyes locked intently as he asked, “What is your relationship with this band of bandits?”

Old Li wailed, “Commander, I have no connection with them—I was forced into it.”

“One year ago, these bandits found me and coerced me into acting as the middleman for trades between our village and the Monglai people.”

“Since then, every time they conduct business with the Monglai, they make me the liaison. If I refuse, my entire family’s lives are at risk.”

Lin Shize asked, “When is their next transaction?”

Old Li replied, “In two hours, the Monglai will arrive. This time, the goods are numerous—thirteen large carts in total. I only came to contact the bandits because I feared something might go wrong.”

Lin Shize said, “You’re a clever man. If you want to live, you must follow my instructions.”

Old Li nodded rapidly like a pecking chicken. “Commander, just say the word—I will obey.”

Lin Shize stood and said, “Take me to your village first.”

After a thorough survey of Baocun, Lin Shize turned to Liu Wu and the others. “Brothers, you’ve just been through a fierce battle. Baocun has no natural defenses. Recklessly confronting the Monglai might lead to casualties. What do you think?”

Liu Wu drew his battle knife, his gaze resolute as he met Lin Shize’s eyes.

“Chief, when I was at the mountain stronghold, I felt like a war god descended. That exhilarating feeling will never leave me.”

“We fear no one now. Even the Monglai—I’ll twist their heads off and make them chamber pots!”

“Chief! Give the order!”

The fierce determination blazing in Liu Wu and the others’ eyes spoke volumes.

The iron-blooded spirit of an army is forged in the blood of repeated victories.

Lin Shize nodded firmly and immediately began arranging tactics.

“Move all the carts to the open ground. We’ll set a trap to ‘close the gate and beat the dog.’ Old Liu, you take your men to ambush on the west side. Remember, let a few enemies escape.”

The others looked puzzled—why deliberately allow some enemies to flee?

Lin Shize said, “Time is tight; I can’t explain now. Just follow my orders.”

“Chen Xin, I’m entrusting you with all the remaining triangular arrows. Make sure to deal a heavy blow to the Monglai at the very start of the battle.”

“The rest, when you hear my signal, charge immediately. Don’t give the enemy a chance to breathe—quick and decisive!”

“Yes!”

Page 2/3

Night fell like a piece of velvet soaked in ink, gently wrapping the world, and the moon quietly climbed into the sky.

Hung diagonally against the dark blue canopy, its pale light was as faint as water, washing over the tiled roofs and casting a hazy whiteness on the ground.

A squad of Monglai cavalry approached openly, without any attempt at concealment.

Following Old Li, Lin Shize wore a rough hemp garment stripped from one of the bandits. Counting carefully, he noted twenty-five enemies, including five Monglai armored troops—this showed the enemy valued this cargo highly, deploying five squads.

The armored leader halted abruptly upon seeing Lin Shize and asked, “Who is this? I’ve never seen him before.”

Old Li said, “This is my nephew. I’m old and can’t handle it anymore; from now on, he’ll be trading with you.”

Lin Shize smiled obsequiously, bowing and scraping, though his voice trembled slightly. “Greetings, Commander.”

The armored man snorted coldly. “Work hard, and you’ll be rewarded. But if you try anything funny, I’ll cut you down with a single stroke!”

Lin Shize’s face paled instantly. “I wouldn’t dare.”

Seeing Lin Shize’s cowardly demeanor, the armored man said no more and waved his hand. Several soldiers hurried over to inspect the carts.

Once satisfied, they tossed a large sack of silver coins onto the ground.

The Monglai convoy began to move out of the village. Unseen by the armored man, Lin Shize’s eyes grew cold as he slowly raised his arm.

With a sudden swing, a dense volley of arrows shot into the sky, blending with the night, then descended with deadly whistles.

The moment the arrows fell, soldiers burst from their hiding places, shouting fearlessly as they charged.

The Monglai were thrown into confusion by the sudden attack. They had been here a full year without encountering any resistance.

Muttering in an unknown tongue, they grabbed weapons to fight back.

Suddenly, one by one, Daqi soldiers emerged from the shadows like wolves and tigers, roaring fiercely.

The fiery glow reflected off their gleaming blades; each Daqi soldier was like a beast selecting its prey.

“Enemy attack!” an armored soldier shouted, just as a triangular arrow suddenly pierced his chest, penetrating through to his back.

The other four armored soldiers were shocked. Their armor wasn’t ordinary leather—it was forged by Monglai craftsmen through hundreds of hammerings over months.

Though not invincible, such an arrow piercing had never happened before.

“Could there be a sharpshooter on the other side?”

Page 3/3

The four armored soldiers quickly dismounted, taking cover behind the carts.

Then they witnessed an unforgettable scene.

A squad of fully armored Daqi soldiers charged straight at them, long knives in hand, breaking into the convoy.

Liu Wu lunged before a Monglai warrior, blocking an incoming curved blade with his knife. With a shove of his left elbow, he pinned the enemy back.

A soldier behind swiftly struck; the Monglai’s head flew high—it was the first beheading of the day and the signal to commence close-quarters combat.

The outermost Monglai soldiers were already cleared.

In the flickering firelight, the Monglai faces were ashen. Seeing the dense ranks of armored soldiers crashing in like a tidal wave, a chill surged from their spines to their minds.

By their fierce resolve and fearless tactics, these men were undoubtedly Daqi elite.

At the outset, the Monglai had already suffered heavy losses to the arrow storm—one armored soldier dead, several others down, and some even pinned to the carts by triangular arrows, wailing in agony.

One Monglai, driven mad by fear, roared and charged a Daqi soldier with his sword raised.

Whizz!

Before he could reach the soldier, an arrow streaked through the air like a meteor, striking him squarely in the head.

Chen Xin drew his bow again, arrow nocked, continuously targeting Monglai hiding behind the carts, ready to unleash deadly strikes at any moment.

The triangular arrow was incredibly effective; after days of practice, he had mastered its power.

Old Li, trembling on the ground, was stunned and at a loss watching this.

Were these the once-invincible Monglai warriors who hid behind carts, now reduced to this?

The Monglai could only cower behind the carts, awaiting the Daqi soldiers’ charge for hand-to-hand combat.

Old Li’s face was complex as he gazed at the figure in plain cloth who was wreaking havoc among the ranks.

Who was this man? And why did he command such formidable soldiers?

Lost in thought, Old Li barely noticed the battle reaching its fever pitch.