Chapter 34: Cavalry

"Defend! Quickly, take up defensive positions!"

The captain of the Rongdi cavalry shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice echoing across the empty grassland, yet it sounded pathetically weak.

"Agh!"

Another rider fell to the ground. This time, a sharp arrow pierced directly through his eye socket, pinning him to the earth like a nail, and his breath vanished in an instant.

"The Qin army! The Qin army is here, we are saved—"

Among the captives, a bound young boy shouted in excitement, as if he had seen his saviors. But before he could finish, a Rongdi soldier guarding them kicked him to the ground, treating him like a discarded ball.

"Whoever dares to move, I'll kill him!"

The Rongdi soldier roared viciously, his eyes as fierce as a starving wolf.

*Whoosh—*

Another cold arrow flew from the tall grass, as if it had eyes of its own.

The Rongdi soldier, who had been strutting arrogantly just a moment before, was instantly struck through the center of his brow. His raised scimitar never had the chance to fall, and he collapsed like a felled log.

"Damn it, there is no Qin army, it’s just some lone hunter! Men, charge with me!"

Although four men had died in this short span, causing the Rongdi captain's heart to race, he was a seasoned veteran of the battlefield who could immediately discern the reality of the situation. If it were a Qin military ambush, would they be firing just one arrow at a time?

Hmph, to think they would dare play tricks in front of heroes born in the saddle. Once he caught that fellow, he would make him wish for death!

The Rongdi cavalry captain let out a roar like an enraged lion. Leading ten of his trusted men, he charged toward the woods, his momentum fierce enough to tear everything to shreds.

Then...

There was no "then" for him.

Before the arrow that pierced his eye socket claimed his final spark of life, his mind was a blur of confusion.

He had been galloping across the plains at full speed—how could he be shot with such precision? This archery was even more formidable than that of the legendary marksmen of the steppes!

However, he felt a strange sense of solace before death; he had not died at the hands of the Qin soldiers. Behind the flickering shadows of the trees, he caught a glimpse of a rider dressed in the same attire as his own, appearing like a ghost of the grassland.

As for why he was being attacked by his own kin, he would never have the chance to ponder it.

"Damn it, a 'Sculpture-Shooting' marksman? What are you doing? We are your own people!"

With their leader fallen, the Rongdi cavalry descended into brief chaos. They, too, spotted the killer hidden in the darkness, but their questions would never be answered.

The arrows kept coming!

Like death knells, they echoed over the plains. One rider fell, followed immediately by another, like wheat being harvested.

Each arrow maintained a perfectly rhythmic tempo, as if a masterful musician were plucking strings. Each draw of the bow was like a strum, yet it produced a sound of death that chilled the blood.

"There are only a few of them, come on! Everyone, attack together!"

A Rongdi rider holding a long spear shouted with a trembling voice, his tone thick with fear and unease.

His judgment was not wrong. These Rongdi, raised on the plains, were all natural hunters. Even without a commander, they instinctively coordinated, spreading out to surround the enemy like a pack of well-trained hounds.

At the speed of their horses, this marksman could fire at most one more arrow. Once they closed in, no matter how skilled he was, he would be overwhelmed by sheer numbers—there would be no escape!

He did not fear the traitor would run, for his companions were closing in from all directions, sealing off every path like an inescapable net.

*Though the losses are heavy, we will win!*

"Hahaha! Well come!"

Zhao Ergou, who had just loosed his final arrow, let out a wild laugh and tossed his longbow aside like a piece of refuse. "Brothers, show these bastards what we’re made of!"

He drew the dual blades at his waist and charged his horse forward, like a tiger descending from the mountains, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

"Lads, hack them down! Butcher these sons of bitches!"

Thirty-odd riders clashed in a blink, like a gale sweeping across the plains, leaving behind only splashing blood and fallen corpses.

"Damn! What kind of gibberish is this?"

One rider could not understand the strange language Zhao Ergou and his men were shouting; he only felt the sound was more chilling than the howling of wolves.

"Huh? What happened to me?"

Another Rongdi rider suffered a worse fate. Zhao Ergou’s blade severed his head; his body remained on the horse while his head soared into the air.

He watched his own body drifting further and further away.

Before death took him, only one thought filled his mind: "This sound... could it be the Grim Reaper himself?"

"Hahaha, come again!"

Zhao Ergou laughed toward the sky, showing no hint of fear. Like a beast gone mad with bloodlust, he spun his dual blades like a windmill, cutting down two more enemies in the blink of an eye, shouting excitedly, "Who else! Who else refuses to submit!"

"Kill!" Seeing their captain and his ten men gone without a trace, the remaining Rongdi cavalrymen’s eyes turned red.

They charged at Zhao Ergou like a pack of rabid dogs, howling, desperate to tear him to pieces.

The thirty-odd leading Rongdi riders rode shoulder to shoulder, horse to horse, holding their spears in a dense, impenetrable wall. They intended to use this formation to hold Zhao Ergou back and prevent him from closing in.

"Bring the bow!" Zhao Ergou waved his hand, his spirit soaring as if summoning a legendary weapon.

No sooner had he spoken than a cavalry bow dropped from the sky, landing in his hand as if it had eyes.

"Hahaha, heaven truly helps me!"

Zhao Ergou grabbed a handful of arrows, nocked them to the bow, and fixed his cold gaze forward. "Let me show you the power of my Fierce Bow. No matter what armor you wear, I’ll pierce a hole right through it!"

*Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—*

Arrows flew out like raindrops, carrying the scent of death.

Those thirty-odd Rongdi riders slammed into an invisible wall, screaming as they tumbled from their horses like falling dumplings.

"What is this?"

"Consecutive arrows! These are consecutive arrows!"

A well-informed Rongdi soldier recognized the technique and turned pale with terror.

Zhao Ergou’s single shot had released three arrows simultaneously, and each one pierced accurately through an enemy's chest, penetrating even their armor as if it were paper.

"This is bad, scatter!" someone reacted and shouted, but it was too late.

"Too late! All of you, stay here for your grandfather!"

Zhao Ergou loosed another shot—three more arrows, like the sickle of death, reaping the lives of the second rank of cavalry.

"We can’t win, this is impossible to fight!"

"Run! Run for your lives!" The Rongdi cavalry completely collapsed. Like headless flies, they scattered in all directions, their previous arrogance utterly vanished.

In their panic, some pulled their reins too hard, causing man and horse alike to tumble to the ground, rolling like gourds in the dirt.