Chapter 125: Blow It to Hell

The county guards and villagers who had witnessed the Qiang archers' prowess before reacted immediately, ducking low in their positions to shield their heads. Despite their efforts, a pained cry rose from the crowd as someone was struck by an arrow.

"Who’s been hit?" Qi Jun frowned, shouting in anger at the sound of the cry.

Having already endured one volley of the Qiang siege arrows, he wanted to know which fool had failed to dodge in time.

"It’s Captain Zhao! He’s been hit in the left arm!" a guard yelled back at the top of his lungs.

Qi Jun felt a surge of speechlessness. Zhao Gui had a sharp mind for flattery and shifting with the wind, but he had proven utterly incompetent in this battle. Though he had never faced such a situation before, his reaction time was even slower than that of an ordinary guard—it was inexcusable.

"Stay down! The moment the arrows stop, prepare to counterattack!" Qi Jun shook his head, reminding the guards and villagers once more, though he felt little confidence in them.

Fortunately, no one else was wounded in this volley.

"I wonder how the other three walls are holding up..." Qi Jun stared at the whistling arrows flying overhead, sighing inwardly with deep anxiety.

Most of the city’s defense was concentrated on his side, and even here the situation was precarious. If the Qiang soldiers attacked from other directions simultaneously, Anqiang City would not last an hour.

With this thought, Qi Jun began to wonder if they should abandon the walls and switch to street fighting.

Just then, the arrows ceased. From the mist outside the city, the sound of a large army marching through the mud returned.

After several skirmishes with the Qiang, Qi Jun had finally grasped their tactics: suppress with arrows, then follow with infantry. There was nothing remarkable about it.

Qi Jun stood up. As the footsteps drew closer, he found himself less worried than before.

Once the arrow fire stopped, the guards and villagers knew what was coming. Without waiting for an order, they spontaneously took up their defensive stances.

With no retreat left, they had to fight with their final ounce of strength. Having realized this, the gloom of death vanished from their faces. Facing an inevitable defeat, they stared into the murderous mist with the resolve of those ready to die.

"To die here—it’s not a bad way to go," Deng Fang chuckled, looking at Qi Jun and his uncle, Feng Qinian.

Qi Jun picked up a stone grenade, handed it to Deng Fang, and gave his arm a firm, supportive pat.

Feng Qinian, however, wore a complex expression. How could he be content to die here?

He had only just managed to topple the former magistrate, Song Xi, in the wake of the Panlong Ridge disaster, finally securing the position he had dreamed of. The imperial decree of his appointment was still tucked in his robes, and he hadn't even had the chance to rearrange the magistrate’s office to his liking. He had barely tasted the power of his new status before being plunged into this death trap.

He had no desire to throw his life away defending a doomed city. If Anqiang fell, he could survive and perhaps rise again later. But if he died with the city, everything would be lost.

Therefore, Feng Qinian had harbored his own secret plans from the start. His earlier trip to "settle his family" was actually to instruct them on his intentions: when the city fell, he would seize the opportunity to escape in a carriage arranged by Axin.

Though Feng Qinian had once served in the military alongside Deng Yu, he had always considered himself a politician, not a soldier.

Qi Jun, unaware of Feng’s true intentions, believed that as the highest official in Anqiang, Feng should lead from the front. Knowing he had no excuse to retreat, Feng had been forced to return to the walls with Deng Fang.

Zhao Gui and Xiao Ming trailed him closely. Beyond their habitual flattery, they had sensed Feng’s true intentions and were determined to stay by his side to ensure their own escape. They knew that staying meant certain death, but following the old fox Feng Qinian offered a glimmer of hope.

On these walls, the only ones truly determined to fight to the death were the guards, the villagers, Qi Jun, and Deng Fang.

A group of Qiang soldiers rushed out of the mist, screaming as they carried scaling ladders. Unlike before, each was clad in vine armor, wearing vine helmets and carrying rattan shields. To prevent fire attacks, the armor and shields were coated in a thick layer of wet mud, making them look like moving mud statues.

The crossbow bolts from the guards did nothing to them. As the Qiang soldiers brazenly leaned their ladders against the wall, the defenders could only watch in frustrated helplessness.

The Qiang used a special type of green vine, processed through unique techniques, to create these shields and armor. It was light, flexible, and impervious to blades and arrows, and because production was limited, it was reserved for their elite warriors.

"Brother Jun, what do we do?! We can't hurt them! Those shields even block our stones!" Deng Fang stomped his feet in anxiety.

"Bodo has sent his vine-clad soldiers; he clearly takes us seriously. In that case, we can't hold back anymore." Qi Jun placed a stone grenade on the wall and shouted to the others, "Brothers, give them a taste of this 'heavenly thunder'!"

The stone grenades were powerful but limited in number; without Qi Jun’s permission, no one dared use them. Having seen Qi Jun use them before, everyone was itching to throw one. Now, with his order, they eagerly took up their positions.

The attacking Qiang soldiers were smug, seeing the defenders’ helplessness. They climbed faster, hoping for the glory of being the first inside. None noticed the sinister, knowing smiles on the faces of the guards.

As the lead Qiang shield-bearer was about to reach the top, the pikemen behind him raised their weapons, ready to pierce the chests of the defenders.

At Qi Jun’s command, everyone hurled their sizzling stone grenades.

The shield-bearer swatted them away, and they rolled down into the cluster of Qiang soldiers below.

As the soldiers on the ladders laughed at the "useless" counterattack, a deafening explosion shattered the air. The fire and black smoke became the last things they would ever see or hear.

The center of the Qiang formation erupted. Fragments of vine armor and mangled bodies flew in every direction, and the base of the wall blossomed with gore. In the smoke and blood, the shrill, agonizing screams of the maimed survivors added a layer of hellish despair to the scene.

They could not comprehend how simple stones could explode and harvest their lives. Were these Liang people using dark magic?

That was the only explanation they could muster. With this thought, the terrified survivors scrambled up from the piles of corpses and fled, blood-soaked and screaming, back into the mist.

"Satisfying! That was satisfying!" Deng Fang grabbed Qi Jun’s shoulders, shaking him violently, spraying saliva all over his face.

Qi Jun pushed his face away, terrified that the man might try to kiss him in his excitement.

Feng Qinian jumped up in excitement, his resolve momentarily wavering. He slapped Zhao Gui on his wounded arm, causing the captain—who had been shouting curses at the fleeing enemy—to shudder in pain.

Seeing Feng’s beaming face, Zhao Gui forced a smile through his agony. "Heaven helps us! The divine thunder is invincible! I am as happy as you, my lord!"

"Hahaha, invincible! Well said!" Feng Qinian, lost in the joy of victory, ignored Zhao’s pained expression and the arrow wound, slapping him on the shoulder again and again.

Seeing Zhao Gui’s awkward attempt to flatter his way into favor, Xiao Ming laughed and made a move to pat Zhao’s arm, only to be met with a fierce, teeth-baring glare.

Qi Jun looked at the cheering crowd, knowing their supply of grenades was nearly exhausted. By inflicting such heavy losses on the elite vine-clad soldiers, they would surely face an even more brutal retaliation.

"Liu Fuyuan! Bring up the Frankish cannon!" Qi Jun shouted, feeling a sudden, heroic surge of spirit.

He decided to teach these Qiang a lesson—to show them the meaning of a dimensional strike brought by a technological gap!