Chapter Nineteen: Taking Action

"Haha, let's see where you can run now!" The cavalryman brandished his saber and charged at Qin Yi.

Qin Yi suddenly stopped and turned around, realizing there was no one else nearby.

"Die!"

The long cavalry blade slashed down at him with a swift, deadly arc.

Qin Yi ducked low, dodging the blow, and kicked out with his right foot, striking the horse's leg.

Crack!

The entire horse toppled forward. The cavalryman was thrown, tumbling head over heels.

In the next instant, Qin Yi vanished from sight.

The cavalryman had just begun to scramble to his feet.

With a muffled thud, he suddenly saw a familiar headless body spurting blood from its neck.

"This blade works quite nicely," Qin Yi remarked, plunging the standard-issue long sword into the ground. He stripped the corpse of its outer garment, glanced at the injured horse, walked over to it and recharged, then disappeared deeper into the woods.

He found a secluded spot, let down his hair, covered his face with a cloth, donned the cavalryman's coat, took up the long sword, and strode out of the forest.

...

At a fork in the road, corpses were strewn everywhere.

The five soldiers had long since been dealt with; seven or eight monks lay dead as well, along with several Iron Wolf Gang members. There were plenty of dead laborers too.

"We lost five men here—damn it!" The dark-faced brute cursed loudly. Three of those lost had been felled by arrows! Fortunately, the enemy only had about a dozen bows, or their losses would have been far worse.

"Captain, should we keep chasing those who escaped?" a pockmarked man shouted.

"Chase them? Nonsense! Our mission was to burn the enemy’s supply wagons. The task is done—pour oil on the grain and get ready to burn it. We withdraw at once!" the brute commanded.

"Yes, sir."

"By the way, boss, weren't Old Third and seven or eight others chasing into the woods? They haven't come back."

"Ignore them for now. Burn the supplies first—they’ll probably return soon."

"All right!"

Just then, a blood-soaked figure burst from the trees at high speed.

"Who goes there?"

"That's not Old Third's group!"

"His face is covered—he must be an enemy!" The brute grinned savagely and spurred his horse toward the newcomer.

The two sides closed in rapidly.

"Die!" The brute swung his blade.

Qin Yi didn't even use his secret movement technique; he simply sidestepped the attack, and with a slash of his sword, cut into the horse’s belly.

Blood spurted.

The wounded steed collapsed forward. The brute was startled, but managed to leap aside, avoiding a humiliating fall.

"Your footwork is impressive," the brute said, masking his surprise—only to find the enemy had vanished!

A cold wind swept up behind him; without thinking, he slashed backward.

"Are you sure you're swinging in the right direction?" a voice mocked him from the front.

"How did you suddenly appear in front of me?" The thought had barely crossed his mind before a sharp pain lanced his neck.

His head fell.

"The secret movement technique is truly handy," Qin Yi murmured to himself.

The eight or nine remaining cavalrymen were dumbfounded.

Their captain, a third-tier fighter, had been slain in two moves!

"Run!" Some scrambled for their horses, others dropped their oil flasks and fled.

"Trying to escape? How amusing!" Qin Yi charged into their midst like a tiger among sheep.

Three minutes later, only two had managed to flee on horseback; the rest had all fallen to Qin Yi. They had been too scattered, and a few were mounted, giving them a chance to escape.

Qin Yi quickly searched the bodies, finding only five taels of silver. He cursed the paupers under his breath.

He tried to recharge from the corpses, but the system rejected them. As for the horses, they'd all bolted in terror—except for the one from earlier in the woods, which he had already recharged, and the one he'd just killed, making two in total.

Time to leave.

...

Night fell.

Only then did the earlier escapees dare to emerge cautiously from the depths of the forest.

They were stunned to find the wagons unburned and the enemy gone.

Half an hour later, at the fork in the road—

"They're all dead, all dead! The five soldiers, gone. The enemy suffered heavy losses too..." Chen Jie sucked in a cold breath.

"More than twenty laborers remain; three monks survived, and two Iron Wolf Gang members. Aside from one missing junior brother, the rest of us seem unharmed," Liu Haibin reported after counting heads, clicking his tongue in amazement.

Thankfully, they'd all intended to run from the start—most had survived as a result.

"Senior brother, your arm?" Qin Yi glanced at the group; only Chen Jie was injured.

His arm was bloody, wrapped in bandages.

"Don't ask. An enemy horseman chased me into the woods. We fought desperately and I was lucky enough to kill him," Chen Jie replied, visibly shaken.

The Iron Wolf Gang members approached.

They were surprised to see so many from the Qingwei Dao Palace unharmed.

"Gentlemen, what now?" Sun Feng, their acting leader, asked.

"I suggest we proceed with delivering the supplies. If we fail, the military courts will hold us responsible," Chen Jie advised.

"I agree," the monks chimed in.

After some discussion, they decided to continue transporting the supplies.

As for how the enemy had died—things had been chaotic, and most had been focused on fleeing.

They reasoned that their fallen comrades and the enemy had simply perished together. After all, they had lost dozens themselves.

Late that night, Qin Yi and the others finally delivered the supplies to Rongcang Town. The road was peaceful; nothing else happened, to their great relief.

The deaths of the five soldiers and the encounter with enemy cavalry were reported to the district's military. But since the supplies had arrived safely, no blame was assigned, nor were there suspicions.

After all, the enemy had sent more than twenty cavalrymen. For them to have taken so many with them was impressive.

As it was late, the transport team decided to rest in the military camp and return at dawn.

"Come, let’s visit the senior officers," Chen Jie suggested.

"Good idea."

Everyone was eager to hear more about the situation—if the war could end soon, all the better.

...

Late at night, Qin Yi and his companions emerged from the tent, all their faces grim.

They had just learned from their master that in three short days, the Qingwei Dao Palace had lost twelve second-tier disciples, five at the third tier, and even one fourth-tier uncle.

Of the eight elders above the fourth tier who had joined the campaign, only two—both fifth-tier—remained; the other five were fourth-tier. On a battlefield like this, such men were considered true experts.

Yet...

"Damn those district troops—they're using us as cannon fodder! If this goes on, better to desert than wait for death!" Liu Haibin fumed.