Chapter Nine: The Night Raid

In this battle, Lin Shize spared no prisoners; the entire battlefield was filled with soldiers delivering finishing blows. Lin Shize told Liu Wu that every man must have blood on his blade. Those who dared not comply should leave immediately and not hold the group back.

During wartime, Lin Shize exuded an undeniable aura of menace.

Compassion does not command armies, and righteousness does not manage wealth. As the commander of this troop, he bore responsibility for every life under his command.

If it had not been for the Lin family guards recklessly running about and disrupting the Mongla forces’ formation on the battlefield, it would not have been so easy to annihilate the enemy completely without any casualties on their side.

This fully demonstrated just how destructive unreliable comrades could be.

The abundant spoils loaded onto the carriage made everyone unable to contain their joy.

Fifteen severed heads were piled on the cart, along with several warhorses. Even the fallen enemy horses were hoisted onto the carriage—excellent meat for the troops.

Lin Shize also ordered the bodies of the Lin family guards who had fallen on the field to be loaded onto the carriage.

Liu Wu asked, “Boss, what do you want to do with these corpses?”

Lin Shize chuckled darkly, “Sometimes the dead are more useful than the living.”

The newly recruited soldiers, initially distrustful of the young Lin Shize, had their faith completely restored after this battle.

After all, everyone admired a leader who could lead them to glory.

By the time the group had gathered their belongings and returned to the beacon tower, it was already deep into the night.

Upon arrival, they immediately sensed something was amiss.

The back door of the beacon tower was open, and Gou Dan, with a few men, had two individuals tightly surrounded.

Lin Shize frowned as he rode forward and asked, “What’s going on here?”

Gou Dan replied, “Boss, this new recruit is trying to desert on the eve of battle!”

Beside the soldier stood a huntsman clad in simple cloth, gripping a war knife and confronting them, shouting, “Boss! I’m not deserting. My family in the valley was kidnapped by the Mongla. I have to go rescue them. After I return, you can punish me any way you want!”

Lin Shize dismounted swiftly and strode over to the two men. “When did this happen?”

The soldier’s tear-streaked face answered, “About an hour ago. My brother escaped and told me.”

Lin Shize turned his gaze toward the huntsman in plain clothes. “How many Mongla came?”

The huntsman trembled as he answered, “Five. They charged in under the cover of night, killing people and abducting several women.”

The soldier knelt, weeping as he pleaded, “Boss, I’m not ungrateful, but I must save my family. If they fall into Mongla hands, they will be tortured to death.”

Chen Xin bowed his head deeply before turning to leave.

“Wait!” Lin Shize roared. Gou Dan pressed his blade against Chen Xin’s chest, ready to behead the deserter at a moment’s command.

Chen Xin’s face went pale, his body trembling. Lin Shize’s voice came from behind him.

“If you are my soldier, then your matters are my matters. Your family is my family.”

“Liu Wu! Bring out all the warhorses. Those who can ride, follow me!”

Lin Shize said to the dumbfounded Chen Xin, “Can you ride?”

Chen Xin nodded.

Without hesitation, Lin Shize ordered, “Everyone who can ride, choose a warhorse. We’re going to rescue them!”

Ten men mounted their steeds and set off once more.

When they reached the valley village, it was a scene of utter devastation.

Several mangled corpses lay at the village entrance, and in the distance, an old man covered in blood wailed inconsolably while watching his burning home.

The horrific sight ignited a fury so intense it felt as though their very scalps would explode.

Lin Shize studied the horse tracks on the ground stretching eastward and concluded the enemy had fled in that direction.

“Pursue them! They shouldn’t be far. Li Gui, take a team ahead to scout. The rest form an attack formation and advance at full speed. Keep your eyes sharp!”

With women in tow, the enemy surely wouldn’t move fast. There was still time.

The moon was large and bright that night. After a frantic ten-mile chase, Li Gui returned, reporting, “Boss, the enemy is just ahead in the dense forest.”

“Good. Dismount! Approach quietly.”

The ten men slipped off their horses and used the forest cover to stealthily close in on the enemy camp.

Through the trees, flickering firelight could be seen in the distance.

Still some distance from the camp, Lin Shize signaled the men to stay put as he crept forward alone.

Hidden behind a cluster of dead wood, he observed five Mongla men warming themselves by a campfire.

They shamelessly feasted nearby, their greedy eyes fixed on the captured women.

The Mongla had become intoxicated by their recent victories along the border; there was not even a guard posted around the camp.

The leader, clad in iron armor, finished his dry rations in two bites and approached the women.

He roughly turned each woman’s face up for inspection, only nodding in satisfaction upon seeing the last young woman.

Ignoring her struggles, he hoisted her up and walked toward the tent.

The other Mongla laughed, warning the iron-clad man to watch his back lest he hurt himself.

The remaining women huddled in a corner, trembling like sheep among wolves.

Chen Xin, witnessing the scene from afar, tried to rise and rush forward to fight the Mongla but was held down firmly by Liu Wu.

Chen Xin growled, “That’s my wife!”

Liu Wu gripped his neck tightly. “If you want to save your wife, then trust the boss. Otherwise, not only will she be lost, but we all will die here!”

Chen Xin clawed deep furrows into the ground, gritting his teeth with bloodshot eyes fixed on the Mongla.

The iron-clad man’s actions provoked the other Mongla’s savage instincts. They roughly dragged the women around, filling the forest with terrified screams and brazen laughter.

One Mongla sneered as he tore at a woman’s clothes, nearly shredding her garment.

The others howled and joined in the assault.

Liu Wu and the others’ chests burned with rage, desperate to charge forward and tear the Mongla to pieces.

In the deadwood thicket, Lin Shize’s gaze was icy as he watched the horror unfold, yet he held back his impulse.

The Mongla were formidable in close quarters; ten men alone could not hope to prevail.

Using the night as cover, Lin Shize moved forward silently like a ghost and slipped into the tent.

Through a slit in the canvas, he saw the woman struggling, only to be slapped down coldly.

Her pale face was streaked with tears, and the blood dripping from the corner of her mouth was a stark, brutal sight.

Seeing her cease struggling, the iron-clad man sneered, removed his armor, and charged at her bare-chested.

Lin Shize burst through the slit, sprang to his feet, and lunged at the iron-clad man.

Startled by the noise behind him, the man turned, but before he could react, a powerful grip seized his neck.

Before he could move, a long knife slashed across his throat.

Blood gushed forth as he thrashed violently, his body convulsing, yet Lin Shize clamped his mouth and nose tightly, silencing him completely.

The Mongla by the campfire were in no hurry, continuing to taunt the women as if reveling in the cruel game, unaware that Death patiently watched from the shadows.