Chapter 35: A Truly Ruthless One

“So, you’re planning to find me a teacher?”

After listening to their explanation, Zheng Fan was still somewhat... dazed.

Other people hired private tutors by paying money, pulling strings, and negotiating terms.

His people, on the other hand, were planning to draw blades and kidnap one outright.

But after thinking it over, he somehow felt there was nothing particularly wrong with that.

“Still, if it’s only about finding me a teacher, do we really need to be in such a hurry?”

That was the part Zheng Fan did not understand.

Xue San opened his mouth, about to speak.

But at that moment, the Blind Man Bei’s voice sounded directly in his mind:

Shut up!

Xue San froze and said nothing.

The Blind Man Bei spoke instead.

“Master, in this world, no matter what we want to accomplish, we have to seize every day and every hour.

“We’ve already spread out our operations. Next, we still need to establish merchant caravans and sell things like soap and perfume. Once that begins, we’ll draw covetous eyes from many directions.

“Your official status, Master, and the three hundred cavalry you are about to establish will provide us with a layer of protection.

“But our true foundation will always be our own strength.

“So I hope you understand, Master: we have already stepped onto this road.

“Now that we are on it, there are only two possibilities.

“We succeed.

“Or we die on the road.

“There is no third outcome.

“We do not have time to overthink things, nor do we have the luxury to hesitate.

“At least, not as we are now.

“Unless one day we possess strength comparable to the household of the Marquis of Zhenbei—enough to bargain and wrestle with the Yan court itself.”

The Blind Man Bei said a great deal, laying out argument after argument.

In truth, it was all concealment.

He did not want Zheng Fan to know—at least not yet—that the strength of the seven of them was very likely tied to Zheng Fan’s own strength.

Master might still seem somewhat “immature,” but he was, after all, an author who had spent years immersed in horror comics.

Thinking about the darkness of human nature was practically instinctive to him.

Even that blockhead Fan Li could think of:

If we kill Master, won’t the restriction disappear?

Then could Master really fail to think of it?

At present, they could not afford cracks in their relationship.

As long as Master’s strength increased and their own power rose with it, then even if Master learned the truth afterward, the problem would no longer be so serious.

By then, they would already have proven that they were walking the correct road.

“Oh. Fine, then. You decide.”

When it came to making decisions, Zheng Fan had no interest in pretending to know better than he did.

He knew his own level.

Compared with the Demon Kings before him, he was nowhere near qualified to override them.

The things he could decide—and actually dared to decide—were probably matters like whether he needed a young woman to warm his bed tonight, or whether tomorrow morning’s breakfast would be noodles or hot-and-spicy soup.

“Thank you for your trust, Master!”

The Blind Man Bei let out a long breath.

Then he turned toward his companions.

“Master has agreed.

“Everyone, prepare yourselves.

“This matter will have major consequences.

“Fourth Lady, return to the inn now and bring the disguise materials.

“All of us need to change our appearances.”

Feng Siniang nodded.

“The escort team should arrive outside Tiger Head City around dusk, roughly where we are now.

“I do not intend to mobilize anyone from the Cart Gang or Brotherhood Gang.

“So this time, the ones taking action will be the six... seven of us!”

The Blind Man Bei’s heart tightened.

Close one.

He had almost forgotten to count Master as a person.

...

It was a hastily prepared ambush.

Frankly, only a pack of lunatics like them would act on something this impulsive.

They now possessed “citizenship” in the State of Yan, yet the thought of openly charging government troops with weapons in hand caused none of them the slightest discomfort or fear.

And among them was Zheng Fan himself, currently sharpening his saber.

He even held an official post.

In any normal era, what they were preparing to do would simply be called rebellion.

To them, however, it felt no different from everyone getting together to steal Old Lady Wang’s hen from next door that night.

Xue San, the Blind Man Bei, and Feng Siniang went off to inspect the nearby terrain.

Xue San was responsible for keeping watch.

He needed to shadow the escort team from a distance.

As an assassin, he was exceptionally skilled at concealing his presence and was perfectly suited to such work.

The Blind Man Bei used his mental power to probe the ambush site inch by inch, leaving no nook or corner unchecked.

At the same time, he also helped Feng Siniang set traps.

Behind the dirt slope, Zheng Fan was still sharpening his saber over and over.

It was the same feeling as reviewing a few more points or memorizing a few more vocabulary words right before entering an exam hall.

A’Ming reclined against the slope with a blade of grass between his lips.

Fan Li squatted beside Zheng Fan, wearing his usual foolish, honest grin.

The way he looked at Zheng Fan was like someone gazing at the person he respected most in the world.

Admiration.

Trust.

Dependence...

No one would ever guess that just last night, this same simpleton had been the one to suggest “snipping” Master out of existence.

Liang Cheng sighed faintly.

“If those three hundred cavalry existed as more than ink on paper right now, this would be far easier.”

After experiencing that battlefield formation, Liang Cheng truly coveted cavalry like the Zhenbei Army’s iron riders.

Especially since he had once been a general himself.

His affection for cavalry was like an otaku’s love for a two-dimensional goddess.

Unfortunately, Rome was not built in a day.

Cavalry in particular consumed money like firewood.

It was said that a hundred years ago, an emperor of the State of Qian—who had seized his nephew’s throne while holding the status of Imperial Younger Brother—wanted to earn prestige through a northern campaign.

At the time, the State of Yan was locked in struggle with the barbarian Royal Court of the desert.

The Qian emperor personally led his army north, striking Yan from behind.

At first, the campaign advanced like a knife through bamboo.

Yan’s main forces were all tied down on its northern frontier, leaving the rear largely empty.

Later, as the Qian army penetrated deeper into Yan territory and fully entered Yan’s open plains, it encountered a cavalry force that had been redeployed southward at extreme speed from the northern battlefield.

Even a century later, that battle was still repeatedly taught as a classic case in military academies across the various states.

When Yan realized its rear had been pierced, it responded by clearing the countryside and fortifying strongpoints.

The five-hundred-thousand-strong Qian army was gradually exhausted.

Then came the open terrain of the plains.

Thirty thousand Yan iron cavalry became a black flood and smashed straight through the half-million Qian troops, scattering them across the plains.

The Qian army threw away armor and weapons and fled.

Yan cavalry pursued and slaughtered them all the way back.

From the plains of Yan to the Qian frontier, the long road was carpeted everywhere with the corpses of Qian soldiers.

The Qian emperor who had risen from the position of Imperial Younger Brother was, fortunately, blessed with excellent luck.

He took an arrow in the backside, then escaped all the way home under the protection of his personal guards while riding in an ox cart.

The general who led thirty thousand cavalry and shattered the Qian army in a single battle was rewarded with a marquisate for his achievement—

Marquis of Zhenbei.

So the title Marquis of Zhenbei had not been earned by fighting barbarian tribes in the desert.

It had been built atop the corpses of five hundred thousand Qian soldiers.

Afterward, the first Marquis of Zhenbei rode the momentum and swept through three northern commanderies of Qian.

He seized grain.

He seized people.

He nearly stripped those three northern commanderies bare.

Had Yan not already entered the decisive stage of its war with the desert Royal Court and therefore been unable to spare more troops to reinforce him, the first Marquis of Zhenbei might genuinely have dared another deep advance with an isolated army, taking a publicly funded sightseeing trip all the way beneath the walls of the Qian capital.

After that battle, Yan established clear strategic superiority over Qian.

For the next hundred years, Qian did not dare send a single soldier northward.

Instead, it frantically built cities, forts, and fortified settlements all along its own northern frontier, turning itself into a turtle hiding inside its shell.

It was also after that battle that cattle became objects of veneration in Qian.

They even created an ox-headed deity for worship.

After all, if that ox cart had not performed so reliably back then, their imperial ancestor might well have been captured by Yan.

Liang Cheng believed the Yan cavalry of a century ago had probably been even fiercer.

That had been an era of constant mutual slaughter against the northern barbarian tribes.

But even a hundred years later, after personally witnessing two thousand Zhenbei cavalry charge, Liang Cheng still believed they deserved to be called elite.

“Tch. Even if those troops already existed, would you dare bring them here to commit rebellion?”

A’Ming, reclining nearby, teased him.

“That’s why we have to be more careful when selecting men.

“What we are building is not a merchant-protection cavalry unit belonging to the State of Yan.

“It is a private force belonging to me... to our Master.

“When the time comes, have each of them let you bite them once.

“Three hundred cavalry with vampire constitutions...”

Liang Cheng’s hands slowly curled into fists.

Even he, usually so indifferent, was clearly growing excited.

“Pah! What do you think I am, a breeding boar?”

Then

A’Ming suddenly laughed.

“To give three hundred First Embraces, I’d have to be back at my peak.

“And if I were already back at my peak, who the hell would need three hundred cavalry?

“I’d just split into blood shadows myself.

“Wouldn’t that be more useful than cavalry?”

“Go ahead and split one for me now,” Liang Cheng retorted.

“Heh. Three hundred vampire cavalry is nothing.

“You’re more impressive than I am.

“Why not make three hundred zombie cavalry?

“They wouldn’t fear death or pain, and they could slap a fear debuff onto the enemy the moment they charged.”

Zheng Fan, who had been sharpening his saber, raised his head curiously.

“Finding suitable cavalrymen won’t be easy, will it?”

Weapons, money, provisions—those logistical needs could all be solved through commerce.

Once A’Ming had produced soap and perfume, money should become the least scarce thing on their side.

Warhorses could also be purchased from the barbarian tribes through smuggling channels.

For three hundred cavalry, if they were generous enough to give each man two horses and maintain a surplus, they would need to prepare roughly eight hundred horses.

But what about the people wearing armor and riding those horses?

At that moment, Fan Li, who had been squatting quietly nearby, spoke.

“Master, I heard the merchants say that there are many penal tribes in the desert.

“They are made up of criminals or survivors from tribes that were destroyed.

“The larger tribes control their families and use them as hostages, forcing them to serve as something like mercenaries.

“They’re usually the first cannon fodder consumed whenever tribes clash.

“But some famous penal tribes have fought their way to renown through battle after battle.

“They’re only being coerced because their families are held by those large tribes.

“They have no love or sense of belonging toward the desert or the barbarian tribes.

“And they feel the same way about Yan.

“They are all exceptionally hardened cavalrymen.

“They would be perfect for us.”

Liang Cheng nodded after hearing this.

“So first we would need to rescue their families before we could gain control over them?”

A’Ming objected.

“That would mean feeding how many extra mouths?

“The burden and cost would be far too high.”

Zheng Fan stopped sharpening his saber.

Then, sounding tentative, he asked, “Couldn’t we just kill all their families, frame the barbarian tribes for it, then lead them to take revenge?

“Wouldn’t that...?”

Zheng Fan noticed that Liang Cheng, Fan Li, and A’Ming were all staring at him.

He suddenly grew nervous.

Then he lowered his voice.

“I was just joking.

“Don’t take it seriously.

“Heh...”

(End of Chapter)