"The main rebel army is here! So many—so many!"
The scout from Gao Family Village came screaming down from the watch post, his voice already hoarse with terror.
For people who had spent their entire lives within the narrow radius of their own fields and hills, who had never gone farther than the next market town, the sight of nearly a thousand men advancing together was enough to crush the soul outright.
Legs went weak.
Hearts clenched.
Breaths came short.
From above, Li Daoxuan only spared them a casual glance.
That's it?
In his eyes, the scene barely qualified as impressive. It was roughly equivalent to thirty high school classes standing together during the opening ceremony of a sports meet.
The comparison, however, ended there.
These mountain bandits had none of the order, discipline, or collective obedience of modern students. There were no formations, no ranks, no coordinated movement—just a dirty, howling mass of men surging forward in clumps. No one shouted slogans about diligence or progress. No one stood straight.
Their bodies were worse, too.
Years of drought and hunger had hollowed them out. Their faces were sallow, their limbs thin, their movements sloppy. Chronic malnutrition clung to them like a second skin.
Compared to them, the villagers of Gao Family Village—who had eaten rice, noodles, oil, meat, and vegetables without interruption for more than half a month—were in far better physical condition.
But…
There was one thing the villagers could not compete with.
Aura.
These men were bandits. Robbers. Killers.
They had raided villages. Slaughtered families. Broken through Bai Family Fortress itself. They possessed experience—real experience—of hacking living people to death. They knew the smell of blood, the sound of bones breaking, the warmth of entrails spilling onto their hands.
Blood did not make them vomit.
Screams did not slow them down.
Rape and slaughter carried no moral weight at all.
These qualities—cruel as they were—translated directly into combat effectiveness.
And Gao Family Village had none of them.
As the enemy drew closer, the villagers' bodies began to betray them. Knees shook. Hands trembled. Teeth chattered audibly.
Even with San Shier and Gao Yiye shouting over and over—
"Don't be afraid! Dao Xuan Tianzun protects us!"
—the fear still leaked out through their skin.
The bandit army halted roughly a hundred paces from the city wall.
A man with a sinister saber stepped forward. His face alone looked like it had been sculpted specifically to play villains in folk operas.
"I am the Supreme Bright King!" he roared. "You pathetic dirt-scratchers of Gao Family Village! I heard you've grown arrogant, thinking your tall walls make you untouchable."
He spat on the ground.
"Originally, I might have spared you—for ten shi of grain."
His saber lifted, pointing straight at the wall.
"But now? You'll all die. When this wall falls, I swear your village will be wiped clean—no chickens, no dogs, nothing left alive! You're finished!"
More than a thousand bandits roared in unison.
The sound slammed into the wall like a physical force.
Faces atop the battlements drained of color.
Even San Shier's legs trembled visibly.
Bai Yuan, however, let out a cold, mirthless laugh.
"A pack of idiots," he said. "Threatening before a battle? All they've done is tell the villagers that surrender guarantees death."
He snorted.
"They don't even understand psychological warfare. If you want to take a fortress, you start with promises. Offer mercy. Offer rewards. Lure people into opening the gates themselves."
San Shier swallowed hard.
"Well… it's still effective if it scares us," he said weakly. "Because I'm feeling extremely, profoundly, heart-stoppingly terrified right now."
"Stop being frightened by nonsense!" Bai Yuan snapped.
"But I'm a scholar!"
"So am I!" Bai Yuan barked back, then paused, irritated. "Forget it. Why am I even arguing with you?"
He turned sharply and roared, "Blacksmiths! When I shout 'Smash!'—you smash!"
"Yes, sir!" Li Da and Gao Yiyi thundered back.
"Bai family retainers!" Bai Yuan shouted up to the wall. "You take the first wave!"
"At your command!"
"Gao Chuwu! Zheng Daniu!"
"You hold the second wave!"
"At your command!"
Bai Yuan scanned the defenders.
"Does everyone know what to do?!"
"Yes!"
"Ye—yes…"
"I think so… yes…"
The responses came unevenly.
A hundred young men stood on the wall, trained to different degrees, courage uneven, hands slick with sweat. In their own way, they were hardly more organized than the bandits outside.
By now, Li Daoxuan had settled comfortably onto his small stool.
Rice bowl in one hand.
Magnifying glass in the other.
He leaned forward slightly, ready to enjoy a full display of ancient warfare.
Outside the walls, the Supreme Bright King raised his saber.
"Charge!"
His second-in-command hesitated.
"Uh… boss… such a tall wall… where exactly are we charging? We can't climb it."
The Supreme Bright King nearly exploded.
"The ladders!" he roared. "The ones I told you to prepare! Set them up! Climb! And we win!"
"Oh! Right!"
"And the sharpened logs?!" the bandit chief screamed. "Smash their wooden gate! Charge in! We win!"
"Oh! Right!"
The Supreme Bright King's face twisted with fury.
"Over a thousand of us against barely a hundred of them! How could we lose? We charged Bai Family Fortress and won, didn't we? So what are you waiting for?! Charge!"
He slashed his saber forward.
The bandits howled.
Carrying ladders, hoisting crude battering rams, waving mismatched weapons, the horde surged forward like a filthy tide.
On the wall, the villagers recoiled instinctively, pressing together in a frightened cluster.
Gao Yiye's legs felt like water.
But she remembered Mrs. San's words:
The calmer you appear, the more the Heavenly Lord is respected.
So she forced herself to stand still, face blank, spine straight—pretending calm even as her heart hammered wildly.
Then Bai Yuan's voice thundered across the village:
"Blacksmiths—STRIKE!"
Behind the wall, Li Da and Gao Yiyi couldn't see the charging horde. They couldn't hear the thousand voices. Fear never reached them.
Their hands, accustomed to heavy hammers, did not shake.
At the command, both men swung down in perfect unison.
THUD.
The mechanisms were struck.
The two catapults lurched violently—and fired.
Two enormous stones screamed into the sky, sailing cleanly over the battlements.
The defenders instinctively craned their necks, watching the massive projectiles arc overhead.
Then—
CRASH!
The stones slammed into the bandit ranks.
Men were crushed instantly.
Bodies burst apart.
The boulders rolled onward without slowing, mowing through flesh and bone, carving two bloody trenches through the charging mass.
Screams erupted.
"What the hell was that?!"
"Zhang San—Zhang San just got smashed into paste!"
"My face—my face is covered in blood!"
"Motherf—!"
"Huge stones! Flying stones!"
The bandit army dissolved into chaos in an instant.
And there were still eighteen catapults waiting.
Li Da and Gao Yiyi stepped to the next machines, raised their hammers again—
—and brought them down.