Cui Yijiao closed his eyes in despair. He never imagined that a small ant, whom he had always regarded as a mere servant and utterly harmless, would one day raise a butcher's knife against him.
This simpleton actually dared to kill him!
Thinking of his impending death, a warm stream involuntarily gushed from his crotch.
Suddenly.
The rapid sound of hooves echoed from afar, accompanied by a hoarse shout.
"The Tartars are here! The Tartars are killing their way over..."
Lin Feng's gleaming iron blade froze an inch from Cui Yijiao's neck.
These days, his ears were filled with tales of the Immortal Master's cruelty and ferocity, leaving no blade of grass wherever he passed.
With the Tartars attacking, he still needed the cooperation of these people.
After a moment of silence.
"Wu Er, go to the Beacon Tower and light the beacon. Li Xiong and Cui Yijiao, follow me to guard the bridge."
The three of them were stunned for a moment, then their faces lit up with joy, and they quickly scrambled to their feet, trembling.
Lin Feng sheathed his blade, casually grabbed Wu Er's wife by her hair, and threw her aside.
The stench of her body almost made him vomit. And she still wanted him to take her in? Dream on.
Aside from the two women, everyone else quickly rushed out of the house, each finding their position.
In the distance, Mounted Scout Wang Qian from Lingdouzi Village was riding an old horse, desperately galloping towards the trench in front of the Beacon Tower.
Lin Feng and Li Xiong worked together to lower the drawbridge over the trench.
Cui Yijiao opened the stockade gate.
Wang Qian galloped into the stockade, tumbled off his horse, and shouted breathlessly.
"Sergeant, I saw three Tartars outside Shaqu Village, heading this way."
Lin Feng waved his hand: "Go guard your position."
Wang Qian turned his head to look at Cui Yijiao, confused.
"Do whatever Sergeant Lin tells you to do. Dare to utter one more word of nonsense, and I'll chop you up!"
Cui Yijiao snarled fiercely.
Although his crotch was wet and cold, he still retained his previous ferocity.
Wang Qian was a Mounted Scout, his personality not much different from Lin Feng's before.
But his wife was good at handling things, often serving Cui Yijiao, which made Wang Qian's life much easier.
One of the two women in the thatched hut was Wang Qian's wife.
Although Wang Qian didn't understand why, since Cui Yijiao had said so, he could only rush to his position first.
The area around the Beacon Tower was encircled by thick tree trunks, forming a circle of about three to four mu. The tree trunks were sharpened to serve as a defensive encampment.
Wu Er climbed the Beacon Tower to light the beacon.
The others lay prone on the courtyard wall, observing the movements outside.
Before long, a clatter of hooves was heard, and three riders appeared in the distance.
The one at the front was a short, stout Man, dressed in a sheepskin jacket and trousers, with black iron armor over it, and a sheepskin hat on his head.
On either side behind him followed two Immortal Masters dressed similarly, but without iron armor.
Lin Feng learned from his memory that the Immortal Master Mounted Scouts were divided into five Ranks.
From lowest to highest: Commoner, iron armor, Copper Armor, silver armor, Gold Armor.
There was a notice in the Zhenxi Army: for every Tartar Commoner killed, two mu of fertile land would be rewarded, ten taels of silver, one hundred catties of japonica rice, and one Rank promotion.
For every iron armor killed, ten mu of fertile land would be rewarded, one hundred taels of silver, five hundred catties of japonica rice, and three Ranks promotion... Just as Lin Feng thought of this, he felt the wooden fence he was leaning on shaking.
He stared strangely at the three riders in the distance.
It couldn't be, could it? It's so far away, yet the vibration is so strong?
He turned his head to look at the other two and suddenly realized that Cui Yijiao and Li Xiong were both lying prone on the fence, just like him, their eyes wide, staring at the three fierce Immortal Masters, their bodies trembling uncontrollably.
Lin Feng pondered for a moment before understanding.
Immortal Master Mounted Scouts were fast, often forming groups of three to five riders, roaming around to plunder and kill.
Their individual combat prowess was extremely high; they could often break up a hundred-Man squad of the Great Dynasty's Zhenxi Army with just three to five riders.
What was terrifying was that they didn't view the Great Dynasty people as human, killing them like chickens.
Their methods were extremely brutal.
A Man's name, a tree's shadow.
Three riders, with the strength to rout a hundred-Man squad of the Zhenxi Army.
There were only five defenders here.
Cui Yijiao and the others were terrified of the Tartars to this extent.
Lin Feng had to cautiously scan his surroundings, carefully searching for any unusual movements in the distance.
After confirming there were only the three Tartars in front of him, he let out a low shout.
"Archers, prepare."
After shouting, he reached for the bow and arrows on his back. When he got them in his hands, he was immediately dumbfounded.
This was a short bamboo bow, crudely bent into an arc, with a bowstring twisted from mulberry bark—the lowest grade of Materials for bow and arrow production.
Looking at the seven or eight bamboo arrows, they were of uneven length, with only two arrows having triangular iron tips.
The other arrows were simply sharpened to a point with a knife.
If he couldn't hit an enemy's vital point within thirty paces, this thing was utterly useless.
He then looked up to estimate the distance to the Immortal Master cavalry, which was at least fifty paces away.
"Ah, if only I had my carbon steel composite bow, I could have these arrogant fellows die without a burial place, even at several times this distance."
Overthinking was useless; Lin Feng could only face reality.
He turned to see Cui Yijiao and Li Xiong, both trembling and dropping their bows and arrows to the ground.
Lin Feng's eyes lit up, however. These two fellows' bows and arrows were much better than his own.
At least the arrowheads were neat, the arrow shafts straight, and the bow itself seemed to be made of wood.
He raised his hand and beckoned to Cui Yijiao.
"Bring me your bow and arrows."
Cui Yijiao quickly jumped off the partition, picked up his bow and arrows, and respectfully handed them to Lin Feng.
Then he leaned slightly closer to Lin Feng and whispered a warning.
"Sergeant, the Tartars are all invulnerable to blades and spears. Later, let's scatter and run. One who runs is one who lives."
"Who the hell told you that?"
Lin Feng didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
"To be honest, Sergeant, we had all agreed on it before."
Lin Feng's face turned cold.
"So, you want me to stand at the front while you all scatter and run?"
Cui Yijiao sheepishly said nothing.
"Listen up, all of you! If anyone dares to run, the Tartars won't even need to bother; I'll chop him up and feed him to the dogs first!"
Lin Feng shouted loudly at the few defenders.
He was helpless. No wonder these fellows were afraid of the Tartars; they even believed they were invulnerable to blades and spears. How could they fight this battle?
He saw Cui Yijiao and Li Xiong both hunkering down behind the thick wooden fence, trembling with their heads tucked in.
Lin Feng shook his head. A Soul from the twenty-first century, how could he believe such nonsense?
But for these defenders, this impression was very difficult to dispel with mere words.
He pulled the bowstring twice, feeling it was much better than the bamboo bow. He estimated that within fifty paces, it wouldn't be a problem.
In his previous life, he had also been obsessed with archery, winning gold medals in several major international competitions.
Just three Tartars. Let's see how I shoot them down.
Lin Feng was full of confidence in this.
At this moment, the Immortal Master cavalry began to circle the stockade, their warhorses kicking up clouds of dust.
And they shouted loudly, intimidating the people inside the stockade.
Wang Qian, lying prone behind another wooden fence, shouted loudly.
"Sergeant, the Tartars are good archers; don't show your head or face."
Lin Feng ignored him, drew his bow, nocked an arrow, and squinted through the gaps in the thick wooden fence, looking for an opportunity.
He stared intently at the three galloping Tartars, as if he saw piles of gold, silver, and pristine white japonica rice.
As long as I kill one, I'll be rich!
