Chapter 28

I suddenly caught a faint metallic and sweaty smell carried by the wind. The wind suddenly grew stronger, causing the reeds to sway incessantly. No, it was the low growls of advancing attackers. Taking advantage of the cover provided by the reeds, a large number of shadowy figures suddenly emerged, almost instantly closing in on us.

With the flash of blades, blood, and screams, the elongated marching formation was cut into several segments. The Liangshan soldiers, whose faces were marked with relaxation and fatigue, were almost caught off guard and fell in large numbers.

"Fall in with me..."

Old soldier Deng Fang shouted with all his might, deflecting a flying axe with his blade, which whizzed and struck the large cart in front of me, humming loudly.

He had already kicked down and felled an attacker who rushed to his side, and blocked another attacker's blade, smashing his helmeted head into the other's face, causing blood and flesh to splatter.

At this moment, as if a belated background sound, the cries of women, the panicked screams and shouts of the Liangshan soldiers, turned the scene into a chaotic mess.

Strictly speaking, this was just an armed collection team, so they did not have much combat equipment. Most of them were lightly armed for long journeys, with a few spear bearers, and almost no shields or crossbows, let alone a few scouts.

Dai Zong, sitting on the large cart, almost immediately became the target of the attackers. He barely managed to stand up and shout half a sentence before several throwing axes and arrows hit him, causing blood to spurt and his body to slump down.

Then his deputy, another head from the water camp, ran a few steps and was struck in the waist by a stray arrow. He let out a muffled groan and jumped into the river, creating splashes and a trail of blood, drifting away.

The other leaders were no better, showing signs of panic and slow reaction. I even caught a glimpse of a figure crawling under the large cart, desperately smearing blood on himself to feign death.

Thus, the remaining old soldier Deng Fang, who was still fighting fiercely, became the mainstay for everyone to rally around. Because those around him were mostly veterans from the former rebel army, they quickly gathered into a group, and the casualties seemed less severe. The Liangshan soldiers who were farther away also scrambled to him.

Because I had been talking to him earlier, I was fortunate enough to be surrounded by these people, crouching low by the cart, gasping for breath, and trying to calm my heart, which was almost jumping out of my throat.

Under his angry shouts and commands, various weapons and spears were taken from the large cart and set up on the overturned carts, forming a rudimentary defensive line.

After several attackers were stabbed by the uneven spear tips, the attack was forced to pause, showing signs of fatigue and weakness.

After Deng Fang gathered about half of the team, the panic and fear on the Liangshan soldiers' faces gradually subsided, turning into a sense of shame and unity.

Led by Deng Fang, they began to form a line, with renewed courage, and charged back at the unfamiliar enemies, rescuing their comrades who were still being attacked and dragged back.

To some extent, this poorly executed ambush had already achieved part of its purpose—the collection team had lost more than half of its men, and the collected goods were scattered everywhere.

Losing the element of surprise and the advantage of a frontal attack, there was no need to continue the fight. However, the attackers, after regrouping, slowly retreated into the reeds but did not truly leave.

I suddenly felt my legs go numb, and looking at the sand particles lightly jumping on the ground, I realized it wasn't my legs but the ground that was trembling. Old soldier Deng Fang also noticed something and roared:

"Turn and be on guard..."

Then, the reeds on the other side of the road suddenly fell in large patches. Amid the flying grass and dust, fierce riders, like ghostly apparitions, pierced through the thin barrier of dust.

I could clearly see the bright reflection of the short, broad-bladed spears, not the rough iron tips used by cannon fodder, nor the carefully honed long spears used by veterans. The lead rider wielded a fine iron cavalry spear with a diagonal spike.

With a simple, fluid motion, the massive inertia, like a thunderbolt, knocked down and trampled a small group of isolated soldiers, then impaled the last one, lifting him into the air like a leaf in the wind.

"It's the government cavalry..."

"How are they here?"

"Damn government dogs..."

"Turn your spears around..."

"Block them..."

"Steady, steady..."

Amid the chaotic and varied shouts, some cowards began to turn and try to escape into the reeds, only to be struck down from behind.

Facing the dense group of cavalry charging forward, the wind carried the stench of human and animal sweat.

The faces and eyelids of the front-line Liangshan soldiers began to redden, but more of them started to tremble, swaying like leaves in the wind.

Then came the dull impact and the sound of bones and flesh breaking, followed by suppressed screams and howls of pain.

In just one charge, the front line, already sparse and uneven, was pushed back, and the soldiers, like punctured water bags, crumpled and fell, screaming in agony, splattering blood everywhere.

Among the few who did not fall, the veteran Deng Fang, with his weathered face now marked by a bloodstain, threw his spear backward, pinning a rider to the ground and causing him to fall, tripping another rider. In a single breath, he swung another seized cavalry spear, forcing back a third rider.

This pause allowed the remaining people to react and fill the gap.

I was helpless, standing there in shock and fear, unable to speak a word until my body's instinct kicked in.

Taking cover behind the cart, I panted heavily, taking out the parts from a bag and, with trembling hands, assembled a crossbow, feeling the arrow rack and biting my lip to pull a tailless arrow into the groove.

Clearly, my repeated practice on the mountain did not improve my aim much. The moving figures in front of me swayed, making it hard to aim.

Occasionally, arrows flew through the air, hitting the wooden shields and the cart, accompanied by cries of pain and agony. It was like a death spell, making it impossible to focus.

Lead time, lead time, I reminded myself. The first short arrow was released, its low arc passing through the flying horse legs and landing in the dust.

The second one was loaded much faster, and the screams continued. In this moment, several more people joined the ranks of the dead and injured, and the ground was quickly stained with blood, turning the soil brown.

At the moment they fell, I suddenly pulled the trigger, and the gray arrow disappeared with a buzzing sound.

I had miscalculated the lead time again, aiming for the larger body but hitting the unarmored horse's flank. The rider, in pain, reared up, and then was impaled by several spear bearers, falling to the ground with blood gushing out.

With this assist kill, a game term popped into my mind, and my mind became much calmer. I loaded the third arrow.

This crossbow was light and delicate, with an iron frame and spring, said to be a defensive weapon issued to cavalry officers by the military. However, the Liangshan people were not used to it, and it had been broken and discarded in the storage room. After replacing the string with a shortened horn bow string and dyeing it with grass juice and soot, it became my prized possession.

As if a switch had been flipped inside me, my hands stopped trembling, my breathing slowed, and my loading actions became more steady.

The fifth short arrow hit a rider's shoulder, causing him to hunch over and easily escape my range, but he drew several other riders to his side.

Until they were shouted at and dispersed, they had lost the opportunity to further break through.

The injured and dead were dragged to the back, and the veteran led a charge, impaling three distracted riders, one of whom rolled away in a panic, while the other two were mercilessly stabbed in the face and chest, becoming cold corpses.

We finally managed to repel the cavalry's charge, but our numbers had been reduced by more than half. Although it only took a few moments, it felt like a long time. The injured and dead lay in the blood, slowly moaning and dying.

After firing more than a dozen short arrows, my fingers and wrists were sore and trembling, making it hard to pull the string. I had almost no direct kills, as the government cavalry, dressed in uniforms, had at least some protection, such as studded leather armor.

Therefore, unless they hit vital points like the eyes or throat, the short arrows were not very effective. However, a few Liangshan soldiers with bows and arrows, following my lead, managed to hit several targets.

The temporary leader, Deng Fang, gave me a slightly approving look and instructed:

"Pay attention to cover..."

Then he suddenly rushed forward, dragging two intact bodies back to the formation, and when he opened their head wraps and clothing, his face changed dramatically.

"White Sand Fort, Flying Stream Regiment..."

"Damn, they are from the camps outside the mountain..."

"Even in government uniforms, the stench of the bandits can't be hidden..."

Some of the surviving soldiers also recognized them.

"What's going on..."

"What did we do wrong..."

Unfortunately, they had no time to think about it.

The attack was thwarted again, and the enemies seemed to lose patience and confidence, looking around and slowly retreating, as if waiting for something.

Like a roaring wind, the figures on horseback suddenly charged again, but this time it was a fresh force.

These cavalry looked even more elite, with some of them wearing armor that glinted in the sunlight, indicating they were part of the main army or the personal guard of a commander.

They were skilled and experienced, using their roars and long spears and sabers to drive and compress the gathered Liangshan soldiers.

After throwing short spears and hand axes, they circled around the edges, using their spears and sabers to knock down those who were slow to react. Once they were injured or knocked down, the following riders would trample and stab them, causing more casualties.

"Even the cavalry of the front army is involved..."

Deng Fang gritted his teeth and growled.

"They really think highly of us..."

"What merit do we have to be so highly regarded by those big shots on the mountain..."

Faced with such provocation, the enemies ignored it and continued to charge repeatedly. Although it was clear that their numbers were not large, the impact of their charge created an illusion of a mountain shaking.

The various goods that had fallen and been scattered were rearranged into a makeshift defensive line, but a sense of despair and hopelessness began to spread among the remaining people.

I stumbled and nearly fell, but it was a cracked jar of pickles, and the brine was spreading, emitting a pungent smell. This triggered a thought.

I grabbed a wine jar and threw it, shattering it in front of the formation, and then, to their stunned expressions, I threw a burning log.

Nothing happened; the log smoked and went out on the wine, and I was stunned, as were the enemies, before a long, thin spear flew toward me as a response.

Clearly, I had been misled by those endless period dramas. Not all wine can burn, especially for the ancients who could only produce low-alcohol drinks.

However, my action inspired Deng Fang, who threw another jar, this time an oil can, and others followed suit.

After a few more casualties, the scattered logs and oil between the overturned carts finally caught fire. As the flames rose, the cavalry charging into the crowd became chaotic. Although they could cover their eyes and drive their horses through the dangerous area, the innate fear of fire in living beings could not be easily overcome.

Although their frantic movements also caused us significant casualties, the impact on the morale of the cavalry was even more severe. The惨烈的嘶鸣声 of men and horses being burned alive made the other riders' horses, which were originally spirited, also neigh and gallop, shaking their heads and hesitating to advance.

Some even reared up in resistance, causing the charging formation to become disordered.

Stationary cavalry on the battlefield are even larger targets than infantry. This time, without any need for commands, all the short spears, arrows, and various heavy objects were thrown at them.

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