Chapter 116: All Must Die!

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The method the employer had given for identification was crude, and Wang Dahǔ knew there was at least a fifty percent chance they would miss the true hideout. Yet Wang Dahǔ also understood that such a bold attempt to besiege the county lord’s mansion in Jiangling City would force the mastermind to flee swiftly if the plan failed.

He and his brothers had no time to inspect every possible refuge; the quickest way was to sweep through all the suspected hideouts. This time, luck was on their side — it seemed they had found the right place.

The employer’s luck had always been impeccable; this was no surprise. As a mere guard, Wang Dahǔ was content to ride on that fortune and earn some merit.

Clearing his mind of distractions, Wang Dahǔ led his men over a courtyard wall and broke into a three-story building faintly lit by candlelight.

“Kill!”

As they dropped from the wall, Wang Dahǔ immediately knew they had the right location. In the somewhat desolate courtyard stood six burly men clad in black.

At the sudden confrontation, the black-clad men scattered across the yard were momentarily stunned — they never expected to be found so far from the county lord’s mansion.

The dull crack of the crossbow’s trigger shattered the dawn’s stillness, and six black-clad men were instantly riddled with bolts like a hornet’s nest.

With no time to retrieve the arrows, Wang Dahǔ drew his blade, kicked open the door to the small building, and charged inside.

As expected, no large ambush awaited. Only a few terrified servants in simple garb screamed in panic. The guards surged forward, cutting them down one by one.

A lean middle-aged man in brocade robes, who had just fled hastily from upstairs, was seized by Wang Dahǔ, who clamped a one-armed grip around his throat: “If you’re so good at hiding, why not crawl into a rat hole!”

The lean man trembled violently, unable to utter a word of plea.

The guards swiftly searched the building; upstairs was already empty. Clearly, the lean man had sensed trouble and tried to escape. Had they arrived any later, this villain might have slipped away.

They bound the man’s hands behind his back, gagged him, and hauled him up like a chicken before retreating quickly.

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The desolate courtyard fell silent again, leaving behind only corpses and the thick coppery scent of blood.

Every detail of this operation had been meticulously planned by Zhao Hengyi and the guards: how to confront the enemy leader, how to withdraw if things went well, how to fight fiercely if the battle faltered. All contingencies had been anticipated, enabling the guards to act swiftly and without hesitation — reminiscent of modern special forces.

The brocade-clad captive, dragged back toward the county lord’s mansion, wore a deathly pale face. The long street was deserted; not a soul or shadow to be seen, save for the relentless shouts and clashes still echoing from within the mansion and the sound of their own footsteps.

All of this had been arranged beforehand to prevent any bystanders from witnessing the siege.

Yet unexpectedly, it had facilitated the enemy’s movement.

In truth, during the dawn’s fierce battle, Zhao Hengyi and his men were relatively clueless — unaware of the enemy’s identity, their numbers, or their deployment.

Their overwhelming victory came solely from rigorous training and the lethal hand crossbows they wielded.

In the Great Yan Kingdom, crossbows were exceedingly rare, appearing mostly in official blueprints of the armory. They were large, cumbersome, and designed for siege warfare. Given the current state of the kingdom, producing functional large crossbows was nearly impossible.

The only similar weapons were complicated, low-powered wrist crossbows, used by only the wealthiest for personal defense. Reloading was complex; guards at Yushu Bay might be better off practicing throwing knives.

But the hand crossbows Zhao Hengyi had crafted were fit for small-scale combat and could easily dominate skirmishes lacking archers.

Technology is the foremost productive force and the ultimate war asset.

Xiaotao’s all-female cavalry circled the streets outside the county lord’s mansion, then withdrew to the rear gate. Their mission was only to disperse the black-clad men, not to kill indiscriminately.

Wang Dahǔ and his brothers returned with the captive almost alongside the cavalry. They all reentered the mansion, and the rear gate slammed shut as if it had never been opened.

The shouts and clamor inside the mansion gradually subsided and finally fell silent.

A pale light crept into the east — dawn had come.

“Name.”

In a small room transformed into a temporary interrogation chamber, its windows blacked out, Zhao Hengyi sat upright on a long bench, a great sword at his side. Behind him, the guards stood ready, eager to act.

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Suspended from a beam nearby was a man in miserable condition — bare-chested, his skin marred by countless horrific wounds, bleeding from every cut. Blood dripped slowly from his toes into a large wooden basin placed beneath him to catch the flow, sparing the floor from stains.

The guards torturing him clearly showed no mercy.

The brocade-clad man looked on in terror at the hanged figure, who was none other than Tuoba Dewang, the barbarian chieftain.

Tuoba Dewang was a formidable figure even among the barbarians, a person of immense prestige within the Tuoba clan. Under his command, countless barbarian soldiers had raided border villages for years—burning homes, slaughtering civilians, plundering food and wealth, and capturing Han people as slaves.

A true wretch beyond measure.

Because of this, he was notorious along the border towns — one of the few barbarian villains known by name among the local populace.

Such a man, even if captured by border troops, would never endure harsh torture. Typically, he would be executed swiftly or used in negotiations to exchange for border soldiers and civilians taken by the barbarians.

The brocade-clad man trembled violently. He had always prided himself on his cunning; this siege of the county lord’s mansion had seemed a sure victory. Yet now, utterly defeated, crushed like withered leaves…

Defeat was defeat. Until recently, he still believed his plan flawless and blamed his failure on the incompetence of the men assigned by his lord. Slowly, his shock began to subside.

But when he recognized Tuoba Dewang, his fragile composure shattered utterly.

“We’re all doomed! We’re all doomed! How dare you treat a member of the Tuoba family like this… Everyone must die! The barbarian army will slaughter all of you… Ah!”

Wang Erhu, standing nearby, slapped him soundly twice, cutting off the man’s frantic howl instantly.

Zhao Hengyi’s eyes were clear and unwavering as he fixed his gaze on the brocade-clad man, lips pursed: “I ask you, what is your name?”