Chapter Sixty-Five: The Mountain Demon

"Captain, does this mean we've finally settled down in Dangyang County?"

"Settle down? Hell, we’ve become real bandits now—what’s the point of calling me Captain? Drop that nonsense! This time it’s for real; from now on, we’ll be living the good life—looting for money, grain, and women!"

This band of men who had willingly joined the Mountain Drakes were indeed former soldiers. The man who had once served as a captain stirred the group into a frenzy with his words, each of them lost in dreams of the pleasures that awaited.

We couldn’t defeat the barbarians, nor did we hold the line for Great Yan, but when it comes to dealing with ignorant peasants who’ve never seen the world, we’ll have more than enough power!

"Captain, isn’t Dangyang County where troops are recruited for Yonggu City?"

"So what?"

"Of the nine frontlines, only Yonggu City managed to repel the barbarians. If we set up here..."

"Bah! We’re outlaws now—who cares which line still stands? If you’ve got other ideas, best take off now. But if you ruin things for the brothers, don’t blame me if my blade doesn’t show mercy!"

"Come on, brother, you know we’re the only real family here. Those bastards from Yonggu City have nothing to do with me. We’ll rob their homes if we must—I’m not the soft-hearted type! All I’m saying is, since the folks from Yonggu are so fierce, if we’re making a living here, sooner or later we’ll run into some of them returning home. We should be careful!"

These defeated men had been rounded up on the battlefield, and then, following their new master’s orders, had hidden and disguised themselves, spending considerable time journeying before finally gathering in Dangyang County.

Though they had resolved to become outlaws, none had ever truly lived as bandits before this morning. Their mindset had yet to fully change.

"Bah! I’m not afraid of anything! So what if they’re from Yonggu City? When those guys get back to Dangyang, they’ll scatter, won’t have proper weapons, and even if they group up, armed with knives and spears, they’re just a bunch of cripples, missing arms and legs—we can handle them!"

"Right, right! Anyone who left the frontier army properly is missing something!"

"If someone’s whole and uninjured, they’re either too old to wield a blade or draw a bow!"

"Afraid of what? We’ve left the army—no more looking back. From now on, if we need to loot or kill, so be it! The moment we chose this path, we never planned on turning back!"

In an instant, the hundred-strong group erupted into noisy chaos, their shouting startling countless birds from the woods.

At the rear of the group, Zhou Zhongyu—who planned to become the band’s strategist—looked on in disdain.

The louder these fools shouted, the less courage they actually had.

They were nothing but a bunch of cowards, terrorized by the barbarians.

But that didn’t matter. Once they mingled with the Mountain Drakes and raided a few villages, they’d be no different from any other bandits.

As Zhou Zhongyu listened to the rowdy clamor, lost in his thoughts, a strange muffled sound suddenly came from the woods just behind him.

Thunk!

A sudden numbness shot through his neck—Zhou Zhongyu felt as if struck by lightning.

His strength drained away, his vision blurred red, and his throat felt blocked, making it hard to breathe.

To his horror, Zhou Zhongyu saw a bizarre arrowhead protruding from his neck, slick with blood and half a windpipe.

He crashed heavily to the ground as darkness gathered at the edges of his vision, swelling toward the center, threatening to engulf everything.

He understood instinctively: once the darkness took over, he would truly be dead. He tried desperately to keep his eyes open, as if that could slow the encroaching blackness.

Thud, thud, thud!

The distinctive, muffled twang of triggered crossbows echoed in quick succession!

The hunting party, long hidden behind the hundred or so defeated soldiers, sprang into action as soon as Captain Wu the Sixth felled the man who looked like a scholar.

These defeated soldiers had grown too complacent. Though they kept some military habits as they marched, they’d sent no scouts ahead and made no effort to check the forest—they simply followed two bandits acting as guides and stumbled straight into the hunting party’s ambush.

Unlike Wu the Sixth and the guards, the young hunters found these defeated soldiers laughably weak as soon as the fighting began.

They looked fierce enough, carrying blades and bows, but they were all for show.

People say that newborn calves are unafraid of tigers.

But in the hunters’ eyes, these men blundering into their trap weren’t even worthy of being called calves—they were sickly cats at best.

After the first volley, over thirty soldiers fell. Those with longbows were targeted especially, nearly shot to pieces—dead beyond any hope.

The two bandits leading the way and the former captain at the front also perished in the first attack.

The sudden rain of arrows threw the defeated soldiers into utter chaos.

Some shouted, some ran, some feigned death by lying on the ground, others dove into the woods from which the crossbows had just fired, and some even turned back, fleeing for their lives. Not one thought to use their blades or swords to fight back.

Watching from the side, Zhao Hengyi involuntarily frowned. These were supposed to be the border troops? The seasoned veterans? They were nothing like his own guards!

In a moment of clarity, Zhao Hengyi understood.

These men, painstakingly gathered by a certain lord and sent deep into Great Yan from the frontier, were the same useless sort he’d seen under the command of pampered officers—good for nothing.

Beside him, Wang Dahu and the guards showed no surprise. Instead, they watched the hunters’ performance with even more interest. Clearly, everyone had known from the start what these defeated soldiers were really worth.

As the soldiers, with no will to resist, suffered a second volley of arrows, shouts erupted from the thick woods.

"Surrender and you won’t be killed!"

"Drop your weapons and kneel—you’ll live!"

"Kneel and you won’t be harmed!"

The slogans, repeated like incantations, poured into their minds. Many of the soldiers, dazed and confused, knelt and surrendered.

In their trance, they saw a strange group rush out from the trees.

These odd figures wore hats woven from willow twigs and grass stems, dressed in garments dyed yellow-green with plant juices, their faces painted with wild colors—in every way, they looked like the man-eating demons from the old tales.