Chapter 99: The Humble Household in Shu (Part Two)

“They’re shooting arrows!” Amid the chaos, someone shouted.

Before the words had fully fallen, a hailstorm of arrows tore through the air, descending from the sky. Arrows came from all directions, clearly the army had encircled the village without advancing, unleashing volleys of arrows simultaneously from every side.

“Thunk, thunk, thunk...” The relentless sound of arrows striking the wooden houses echoed continuously. The ground and walls were riddled with shafts, their fletchings quivering with each impact.

Faced with this arrow storm, seeking immediate shelter was the only option. Daoxuan glanced around and spotted a low wall near an ancient tree. Grabbing Zhang Chi’s arm, he urged, “Quick, let’s take cover behind that wall.”

Dark Blade and He Gulao, already beside Zhang Chi, also noticed the wall. The four hurriedly concealed themselves behind it, narrowly escaping the barrage.

Unfortunately, the open space before the ancient tree was crowded with people, exposed under the endless rain of arrows. These men stood defenseless on the open ground and suffered heavy casualties. The crowd was thrown into chaos, countless bodies pierced by arrows littering the earth like spines of a porcupine.

The old helmsman, witnessing the severe losses, disregarded his own safety and rushed forward to direct everyone to safer cover. “Don’t panic! Find shelter quickly!”

Before he could finish, two arrows pierced his back.

“Old Helmsman!” A man wielding a curved blade, who had been striking Daoxuan’s shoulder, leapt to the old man’s side. Brandishing his blade, he swatted away the flying arrows, simultaneously pulling the old helmsman and others back toward a nearby wooden house. With a loud shout, he commanded, “Get inside the house, now!”

Inside the wooden hut, the threat of arrows was significantly lessened. Though the crude structure could not block every arrow, the density of incoming shafts was far reduced compared to outside.

Most of the group sheltered inside the hut, except Zhang Chi, Daoxuan, Dark Blade, and He Gulao who remained behind the low wall. It was impossible to run with the others through the storm of arrows, but here at least, they were relatively safe.

“Not good!” Zhang Chi suddenly whispered sharply.

His concern was not for himself, but for Bai Xue, who was running wildly within the village.

Although Bai Xue was agile and fast, no matter how swift, he was still a horse and not a man. People could wield weapons to fend off arrows or hold large shields before them, but a horse had no hands, no way to block incoming shafts.

Looking up, Zhang Chi saw another dense volley of arrows flying from the horizon.

Though arrows travel swiftly, they are not bullets; it takes a few blinks from the archer’s release until the arrow lands.

Within those fleeting seconds of the parabolic arrow flight, Zhang Chi had no time to hesitate. He grabbed a huge cooking pot lid nearby—common among the refugees of the Cold Gate branch, where meals were cooked in large communal pots several arms wide—and dashed out from behind the wall with it held high.

“Brother Zhang!” Daoxuan, caught off guard, could not stop him.

The low wall was not far from the ancient tree. Zhang Chi charged toward Bai Xue, who met him head-on. With a shout, Zhang Chi collided into the horse. “Lie down!”

Bai Xue, powerful and strong, should have been impossible to push, yet their hearts seemed connected, as though Bai Xue sensed Zhang Chi’s intent. He fell with the momentum, collapsing to the ground as Zhang Chi tumbled atop him. Zhang Chi flipped over, the massive wooden lid covering both their vital areas perfectly.

Though their vital spots were shielded, unfortunately Zhang Chi’s lower leg remained exposed. The arrow storm struck again, and two arrows pierced his calf.

Luckily, the volley ceased after that. Daoxuan swiftly leapt out to Zhang Chi’s side. Dark Blade was about to follow when He Gulao grabbed her arm, cautioning, “Sister, be careful—the army is still shooting!”

Dark Blade frowned slightly but said nothing, freeing herself and jumping out anyway.

Only now did she truly believe Zhang Chi might not be a horse thief. Who in their right mind, a thief of horses, would risk their life to rescue one? Clearly, Zhang Chi’s bond with Bai Xue ran deep.

Dark Blade’s intuition was correct. Zhang Chi and Bai Xue’s relationship had been forged through countless life-and-death trials. To Zhang Chi, Bai Xue was more than a horse or a gift from Emei—he was a brother and comrade, one who rode beside him into battle.

Dark Blade arrived at Zhang Chi’s side, brandishing her three-foot-long sword to sever the arrows lodged in his calf. Grimacing, Zhang Chi struggled to stand as Daoxuan helped raise the horse.

“You all mount up and flee as fast as you can,” Dark Blade’s voice remained cold. “I led you here and brought danger upon you. If you die, do not blame me. I will atone for it in the afterlife.”

With Daoxuan’s support, Zhang Chi mounted Bai Xue. “My horse is fast; we can break through the encirclement. You should come with us—let’s all escape together.”

“Nonsense! I’m a man of the Cold Gate. I’ll stand and die with the old helmsman and our brothers.”

The enemy no longer shot arrows because after multiple volleys, most who could be killed had already fallen. Now it was time for close-quarters combat.

Zhang Chi saw Dark Blade’s stubbornness but refused to sacrifice himself needlessly. The imperial army had swarmed into the village from all sides. The Cold Gate branch men had nowhere to flee and could only fight to the death.

“Brother Zhang, are we really just going to leave like this?” Daoxuan’s voice trembled with reluctance, unwilling to abandon these men to death at the hands of the army.

“What else can we do?” Zhang Chi’s own heart ached, but waiting to die was not an option. “You know them well?”

Daoxuan shook his head frankly.

“Then let’s wish them luck,” Zhang Chi murmured. Daoxuan nodded, grabbed a sword for defense, and mounted his horse. Zhang Chi glanced back at the Cold Gate men and sighed, then urged Bai Xue swiftly toward the mountains behind the village.

Bai Xue’s speed was unmatched. Just as the enemy surged toward the village, they were caught off-guard by the sudden charge of a horse. Before they could form ranks, Bai Xue crashed through the throng.

But this force was disciplined. A general at the rear shouted, “Form ranks!”

The troops quickly gathered, raising their shields above their shoulders. Their numbers were so great that this shield wall could even resist a small cavalry charge.

“Spears!” The general bellowed again, and spearmen stepped forward, their long pikes bristling.

This formation was designed to counter cavalry. As the horsemen approached within a few yards, the spears would thrust forward, and the riders, unable to stop their momentum, would be impaled along with their mounts.

However, the general underestimated Bai Xue.

Just as Bai Xue neared the shield wall, the general shouted, “Thrust!”

Unexpectedly, Bai Xue surged forward, closing the distance in an instant, before the spearmen could jab their pikes.

Snorting fiercely, Bai Xue reared up and slammed a forehoof onto the shield wall.

The force was tremendous—like a thousand pounds—and the shield-bearers could not withstand it. They were toppled, and many spearmen behind the shields were crushed beneath the collapsing barrier like dominoes.

As the fallen soldiers scrambled to raise their shields again, Bai Xue gathered his strength, leapt onto the shield, and with the soldiers’ upward push, vaulted into the air.

He soared over ten yards, landing beyond the formation.

Zhang Chi did not look back, spurring Bai Xue rapidly into the deep mountains.

Amid the chaos, the general shouted repeatedly, “Shoot arrows! Shoot!”

The soldiers turned, nocked their arrows, but before they could release, Bai Xue had already galloped beyond their range.

Never before had the general seen such a courageous horse. He was stunned by Bai Xue’s speed and strength, frozen for a long moment. To face such a foe on the battlefield would truly chill one’s heart.

Eventually, he recovered and commanded, “Someone broke through the lines; ignore them for now. Focus on storming the village and killing the rebel leaders.”

Indeed, the majority of the Cold Gate men were heroes. Though their numbers were few and surrounded by a vast army, with no hope of survival, none sought to live by fleeing or surrendering.

“We fight to the death!” shouted the man with the curved blade.

“To the death!” The crowd roared, brandishing their blades. Even if the imperial army slaughtered them all, they would never surrender.

Dark Blade said nothing, letting her actions speak. Gripping her three-foot sword, she stood in the village square, calmly awaiting the oncoming army.

When the enemy neared, she leapt forward, slashing her blade through the throats of the two leading soldiers. Blood sprayed as her sword struck true.

Among the Cold Gate men, all were skilled fighters. Dark Blade and the curved-blade man were the strongest. Even the elderly old helmsman, despite his wounds, fought fiercely. The soldiers were no match; soon, bodies littered the ground.

Yet the imperial forces were overwhelming, encircling the village with no gaps. Escape was impossible. Even if they killed many, the survivors would perish from exhaustion or be overwhelmed.

But the general would not wait for them to die of fatigue.

The Cold Gate men huddled closer. The frontline swordsmen had all been killed, and those surrounding at a distance dared not rashly charge forward.

“Spears!” came a sudden shout from behind the army lines.

The formation shifted. Frontline swordsmen fell back, replaced by spear-bearers moving forward.

“Attack!” The general’s voice rang out again.

The spear soldiers pressed forward in unison, advancing step by step. Those surrounded now found themselves utterly helpless.

Martial artists excel in one-on-one combat, but against disciplined ranks and coordinated charges, even the mightiest warriors are swallowed without a trace.

Though armed with swords and knives, they faced pikes from all sides. No matter their skill, they had no defense.

The spearmen closed in, their weapons far longer than swords, thrusting repeatedly.

“Thrust!”

“Withdraw!”

“Thrust!”

The spears struck and retracted in flawless synchronization, leaving no opening to parry.

After just two thrusts, most of the surrounded Cold Gate fighters had fallen.

Their desperate struggle was futile amidst the relentless onslaught.