Chapter 10

As the twilight faded and the setting sun turned crimson, Jiang Chen stood at the city gate, took a deep breath, and firmly gripped the secret letter given to him by his mother.

"Nanyang."

This city, once a stronghold of the Song Dynasty, had now become a crucial supply base for the Yuan-Mongol invasion, storing the provisions for their two hundred thousand troops. The supply base was naturally heavily guarded, and Jiang Chen, standing below the city walls, looked up to see the elite Yuan-Mongol soldiers patrolling the ramparts.

Although it was late in the day, it was not yet night, and Jiang Chen thought it was not the right time to act. He did not rashly move forward but instead found a secluded spot, ate some dry rations and drank some water, and began to meditate to regulate his breathing.

When he opened his eyes again, it was past midnight, and he stood up, gathered his energy, and ran to the base of the city wall. He found a relatively dark and secluded spot and used the Geckowalking technique to climb up the wall.

To be honest, Jiang Chen was truly grateful that he had taken the risk to design a plan against Qiu Qianren and obtained his martial arts skills. Qiu Qianren was indeed one of the few martial arts grandmasters of his time, and with his skills, Jiang Chen instantly transformed from a martial arts novice to a grandmaster-level expert. Although such a leap forward would certainly have its hidden dangers, for Jiang Chen, who urgently needed strength, the benefits far outweighed the risks.

In a chaotic era, you could lack family background, education, or even wealth, but you absolutely could not lack strength. Otherwise, who could guarantee that you would still be alive in the next second?

Climbing up the city wall silently, he reached the top and, taking advantage of a gap in the patrol, quietly leaped inside the city. Qiu Qianren was known as the Iron Palm and Water Drifter, and his lightness skills were among the best in the world. Even compared to the ancient Gumu Sect, which was renowned for its lightness skills, his abilities were not inferior. With the added boost from Jiang Chen's enhanced internal energy, his speed was almost beyond comprehension.

Thus, although the city walls were patrolled by elite Yuan-Mongol soldiers with lanterns and torches, Jiang Chen's lightness skills were so fast that, even in broad daylight, unless one was a true martial arts expert, no one could detect his presence, let alone at night.

After crossing the city wall, Jiang Chen entered Nanyang City. At this time, the city was already under a curfew, and anyone caught wandering the streets would be immediately executed by the patrolling soldiers.

The streets still had a faint smell of blood, indicating that the Yuan-Mongol rule over this Han city was not through gentle means.

Slaughter, the slaughter brought by the invasion of a foreign race, was always the most terrifying disaster. The fall of Nanyang City had claimed countless Han lives, and it was well known that the Yuan-Mongol soldiers enjoyed massacring entire cities.

Especially now that Nanyang City had become a supply base for the Yuan-Mongol, the city's population had been almost entirely wiped out. Even after many days, the air still reeked of blood.

Taking a deep breath, Jiang Chen's body was filled with surging killing intent. His eyes glowed red, and he moved like a shadow, swiftly crossing the streets. Soon, a military camp came into view.

This camp was large, with several huge granaries, clearly a storage site for the Yuan-Mongol's provisions. The camp was filled with patrolling soldiers.

Jiang Chen patiently waited for a moment, found an opportunity, and quietly infiltrated the camp, silently entering a tent.

It was a medium-sized tent, with two or three dozen Yuan-Mongol soldiers sleeping inside, completely unaware that an uninvited guest had entered their tent.

Jiang Chen's eyes glinted with a fierce light. He quietly approached, covered the mouth and nose of one of the soldiers with one hand, and drew a dagger with the other, silently slicing through his throat.

"Ugh..." The soldier, who had been in a deep sleep, had no time to even cry out before he lost his life.

Jiang Chen, filled with killing intent, proceeded to do the same to the other soldiers. In a matter of moments, all the Yuan-Mongol soldiers in the tent were dead.

However, this was just the beginning.

After finishing one tent, Jiang Chen moved to another, his actions as swift as a ghost, silently killing the Yuan-Mongol soldiers in their sleep. Knowing that the Yuan-Mongol also had experts, Jiang Chen did not dare to be careless. He pushed his speed to the limit, moving from one tent to another. In a short time, he had covered most of the camp, and every tent he visited was left with all the soldiers dead.

After killing all the soldiers in another tent, Jiang Chen estimated the time. If he stayed any longer, he might be discovered. Even with his high martial arts skills, being caught in the midst of thousands of soldiers would likely mean his end. Moreover, if he encountered a Yuan-Mongol martial arts expert, his hastily acquired skills might not be enough to defend himself.

With the intention to retreat, Jiang Chen quietly left the camp. Seeing the large granaries before him, he had an idea: before leaving, he had to leave them a big gift!

He quietly approached the granaries. Perhaps it was fate, but he found some alcohol in a tent near the granaries.

Although the Yuan-Mongol preferred horse milk wine, they also enjoyed strong liquor due to the cold northern climate. This tent contained strong liquor!

Silently killing the guard, Jiang Chen poured the alcohol from the tent onto the large granaries and then set them on fire. The grain was already highly flammable, and with the alcohol, the fire spread rapidly. The night wind only intensified the flames, causing them to spread like wildfire.

"Bad! Fire! Bad! The granaries are on fire..." The patrolling Yuan-Mongol soldiers, though unable to detect Jiang Chen, could not miss the massive flames that almost lit up half the night sky.

As the saying goes, "Before the army moves, the provisions must be secured." It was clear how important provisions were to an army. Seeing the granaries on fire, the Mongol soldiers quickly fetched water to extinguish the flames, and many more ran through the camp, shouting for help. In the process, they discovered a terrifying fact.

Many tents in the camp were filled with dead soldiers, their throats slit. Every tent, regardless of the number of soldiers, was completely wiped out.

"Damn, damn it!" A man who looked like a high-ranking officer was hopping mad, directing his subordinates to extinguish the fire while cursing the incompetence of the patrolling soldiers.

Jiang Chen had not yet left. With his excellent eyesight, he could hear the officer's curses from a distance, but the words were incomprehensible gibberish. He then threw the dagger in his hand, aimed, and with a burst of internal energy, shot it out.

In the darkness, it was already difficult to detect a projectile, let alone one shot by a top expert like Jiang Chen. In the chaos of the camp, the Yuan-Mongol officer had no time to react before the dagger pierced his throat.

"Ugh!" The officer's scream was cut short, and he fell to the ground, blood gushing from the wound, quickly staining the ground red. The nearby guards were stunned.

Jiang Chen smiled in satisfaction and immediately retreated. As a top expert, he found it easy to leave amidst the chaos of the camp and the entire city. He left behind half the camp's soldiers and a raging fire, marking the arrival of a ruthless killing god...