Chapter 138: The Night Wind Runs Swift

Galloping hooves.

Four hundred cavalry and fifteen hundred cavalry created completely different sensations.

Zheng Fan understood that better than anyone.

The last time he had come here, he had been somewhat reckless, somewhat excited, somewhat unfamiliar with everything, and somewhat nervous—constantly afraid something unexpected would happen.

This time his state of mind was peaceful.

Peaceful enough that he could sit down, light a cigarette, and slowly watch the show.

In an age of cold weapons, cavalry could be used like a lever.

When the first Marquis of Zhenbei defeated five hundred thousand men with thirty thousand cavalry he had pushed that lever to its absolute limit.

At the same time, differences in equipment could often create enormous differences on the battlefield.

Willow Fort was supported by the Sixth Prince.

For this army for Zheng Fan the Sixth Prince had practically emptied even the money meant for his own coffin.

Zheng Fan’s fifteen hundred cavalrymen could be called extravagantly equipped.

And raising a good warhorse genuinely cost more than feeding a man.

Even so, for this expedition, every soldier from Willow Fort still rode with two horses.

That was also why the Blind Man had become embarrassed to ask the Sixth Prince for anything more.

The man had truly done enough.

His promise of “full support” had not contained even the slightest bit of empty air.

The force once again stopped before a fortress along the Qian frontier.

This was Liang Cheng’s order.

Every time they entered Qian, it was like breaking into someone else’s house to steal something.

First you had to open their security door.

Of course, you could refuse to break it.

You could force your way inside directly.

But that would alert the owner.

Then the owner would call the authorities.

Over these past days, Yan’s military commanders large and small had already churned Qian’s frontier into a land of beacon fires and alarms.

But Zheng Fan’s force was far larger than those little raiding columns.

If they wanted to reproduce the element of surprise they had enjoyed last time they still needed to conceal their movements at the beginning.

The Jingnan Army had remained quiet.

The forces of Qian’s three frontier commands had continued hiding inside their shell.

So the Yan commanders along the border could only contend with the garrisons inside Qian’s frontier forts.

And the results of those contests were usually not especially pleasant.

Breaking a frontier fort was not actually too difficult unless you insisted on smashing your head against the largest, hardest one you could find.

The problem was every time you bit through one, you usually broke several teeth in the process.

If the Marquis of Jingnan’s order had not been pressing them from behind, those military commanders genuinely would not have wanted to sink their teeth into the frontier forts.

But for the sake of reporting results for military merit for enemy heads they could only grit their teeth and attack.

The fortress before Willow Fort’s troops was neither particularly large nor particularly small.

Its scale resembled the Chicken Fort Zheng Fan had encountered the first time he came here.

There were probably only several dozen defenders inside.

Last time, when attacking a frontier fort, Zheng Fan and Liang Cheng had led a dozen or so barbarian soldiers and spent half the night fighting a battle of wits against thin air.

Only after climbing up did they discover nobody was even on the watchtower.

The men inside had been busy doing business or standing in line.

But back then, the two states had not yet gone to war.

They had enjoyed peace for too long.

Now border clashes between Yan and Qian were intensifying by the day.

No matter how rotten Qian’s frontier army had become there was no chance Zheng Fan would again enjoy the pleasure of strolling through as though no one existed.

Xue San swung himself down from his horse and began warming up.

He twisted his neck.

Twisted his waist.

After a moment—

Xue San released a long breath.

He grinned at Liang Cheng beside him and Zheng Fan farther back.

Then lowered himself into a crouch.

“Whoosh!”

Xue San shot forward.

Under the night sky, one could faintly see a shadow slipping through the darkness.

But not the slightest sound could be heard.

And before long even the shadow disappeared.

It was as though Xue San had vanished completely.

“When conditions permit, we can have San train scouts and reconnaissance troops,” Zheng Fan said to Liang Cheng.

“Mm.

“This subordinate has had the same thought.”

But at present their conditions were still not mature enough.

They had not yet reached the stage where they could start playing with complex combinations of troop types.

……

As an assassin what Xue San truly excelled at was concealment.

In that field he was a professional.

He reached the outer wall of the fortress.

The ancient, roughly built wall was almost insultingly easy for him.

His body climbed upward like a gecko.

Nothing flashy.

No difficult tricks.

He simply moved at an astonishing speed.

Two Qian soldiers occupied the watchtower.

One leaned behind the parapet, snoring.

The other stood there staring outward, occasionally sweeping his gaze across the surroundings.

Indeed.

With border clashes having intensified to this degree, Qian’s frontier forts had finally begun to resemble actual military strongholds.

Yet even though the watchtower was genuinely functioning even though the two men were properly rotating shifts even though the conscious sentry was actually observing his surroundings rather than slacking when Xue San appeared behind him the sentry noticed nothing.

Xue San drew a dagger.

He adjusted his breathing.

Life needed ritual.

Ritual meant that even if you were not eating steak but merely a bowl of braised offal you should still have a knife and fork prepared.

The dagger moved.

No sound.

No cry.

The sentry’s mouth was covered.

Blood gurgled continuously from his throat.

As for the man still asleep—

Xue San hesitated.

After slowly lowering the first sentry’s corpse to the ground, he retreated several steps.

Bent his knees.

Gripped his dagger.

Adjusted his breathing.

You are a man I, Xue San, intend to kill.

Even if you are sleeping like a dead pig—

I must still grant you respect.

Respecting your prey is also respecting yourself.

Then Xue San launched his thrust.

The sleeping Qian soldier died.

Without suspense.

You could not call Xue San insane.

The truth was ever since traveling from the north down south, he had been suffocating from lack of opportunities.

The only real chance he had gotten to act had been outside Yin City, inside the relay station, where Hero Chen had beaten him half to death.

When a person was suppressed for too long a little insanity was inevitable.

Xue San silently descended by the ladder.

Still not the slightest sound.

At the fortress gate, two Qian soldiers had spread bedding in a recess beside the wall and curled up asleep.

Xue San walked over.

He stopped between them.

Both hands extended each holding a dagger.

He thought killing both men simultaneously in this pose would look extremely cool.

Unfortunately nobody had brought a camera.

Otherwise this shot would have deserved a burst sequence.

Then Xue San discovered a problem more serious than the lack of a camera.

His arms were a little too short.

He could not reach both men.

Helpless—

Xue San walked to the bedding of the brother on the left.

One dagger strike.

Then he walked to the brother on the right.

Another dagger strike.

The entire experience left Xue San feeling strangely empty.

He began opening the gate.

He had even brought oil and applied some to the hinges.

At the same time, he used his dagger to brace the crack in the gate, minimizing the sound as much as possible.

In truth, Xue San could have continued using assassin methods inside.

One by one he might have killed the fewer than twenty Qian soldiers remaining in the fortress.

But mechanically repeating the same action in bulk was not art.

Xue San removed the slingshot hanging from his waist.

He pinched a pellet.

Then fired it into the air ahead.

The Blind Man’s mental range could not possibly stretch this far.

But add the distance traveled by the pellet and it was just about enough.

Standing beside Zheng Fan, the Blind Man nodded.

“That will do, Master.”

Zheng Fan turned around and gestured toward Zuo Jiqian behind him.

Excitement flashed across Zuo Jiqian’s face.

He immediately led several dozen Zuo clansmen forward on foot.

They did not ride.

They charged directly toward the fortress.

The fortress gate stood wide open.

Xue San leaned against the wall with a stalk of grass hanging from his mouth.

When Zuo Jiqian arrived with his men he saw Xue San.

“Peh.”

Xue San spat out the grass stem.

He pointed inside.

Then yawned.

Zuo Jiqian was inwardly shocked by the terrifying methods of this dwarf.

But now was not the time to chat or flatter him.

He immediately led his men into the fortress.

One side wore full armor and charged in with murderous momentum.

The other side was still asleep.

The battle was nothing more than a one-sided massacre.

Yet the Zuo clansmen excitedly began cutting off heads.

One enemy head could more or less redeem one family member from slave status.

How could they not be excited?

A short while later, Zheng Fan and the others rode over.

They did not enter the fortress.

They simply waited outside.

When Zuo Jiqian and his men emerged the Huo clansmen stared at the heads hanging from their waists.

Even under the night sky one could see the red envy burning in their eyes.

Zuo Jiqian walked to the head of Zheng Fan’s horse and dropped to one knee.

“Reporting to My Lord.

“All Qian soldiers inside the fortress have been annihilated.”

Zheng Fan yawned.

He nodded.

“Return to formation.”

“This general obeys!”

Then Zheng Fan looked toward Liang Cheng.

Liang Cheng raised one hand.

“Move out!”

The cavalry surged forward once more.

This had been nothing more than the cold appetizer for tonight.

Even Xue San the only one who had actually done anything felt unsatisfied.

The other Demon Kings had not even warmed up.

Most importantly—

Garrison Commander Zheng was extremely swollen with confidence tonight.

And swelling alongside him was Liang Cheng, who for the first time in this world was leading this many soldiers on campaign.

“It seems tonight will—”

Liang Cheng had only been muttering to himself.

Everyone was riding.

Hooves thundered.

There was no chance anyone nearby could have heard him.

But the Blind Man’s voice instantly exploded inside Liang Cheng’s mind in a roar:

“SHUT YOUR MOUTH!”

……

On the walls of Mianzhou City an enormously fat man, nearly capable of competing with Xu Wenzu in sheer mass, rested his huge belly atop the parapet.

First he sneered twice.

Then said, “Motherfucker.

“Can you believe this city was actually broken before by some minor Yan Garrison Commander leading only three or four hundred cavalry?”

Several men stood behind him.

Some wore armor.

Others wore scholar’s robes.

Seeing the man angry none dared speak.

“Hoo…

“Laughable.

“Absolutely fucking laughable.

“That old dog Yang really is worthy of being a ball-less bastard.

“He doesn’t even dare order an attack.

“He just lets those Yan dogs run wild along the frontier of our Great Qian!

“Aaah…

“Achoo!”

The man sneezed.

Waves of flesh rolled across his body.

At that moment, a scholar behind him spoke with concern.

“The wind atop the walls is strong.

“For the sake of Your Highness’s health, we should go down first—

Prince Fu.”

————

(End of Chapter)