Chapter Thirty: Domineering

Night.

On the road to Beirong Town, a long procession was moving forward. The torches of their convoy, seen from afar, resembled a winding dragon of flames.

Hundreds of carts laden with supplies, escorted by hundreds of men—this alone was enough to prove the importance of these goods.

“Once we deliver this batch to Beirong Town, in three days we can finally launch the decisive battle against the Prefecture Army! I truly look forward to it,” Gao Ming said to the other two incense masters, grinning.

“The only worry is that the Prefecture Army might just hole up inside Jinyuan City. Assaulting the city won’t be easy,” another replied.

“Don’t worry. Our Altar Master has already prepared the siege engines. If Jinyuan City wants to hold, that won’t be easy,” the third added confidently.

As the three conversed, suddenly the sound of hooves came from the forest to the right.

“Ambush!” Gao Ming’s face changed abruptly.

Because of the significance of these supplies, they had chosen to move at night, taken a side road, and even set off at a randomly decided hour to avoid any possible leaks.

But now—

“Everyone, prepare for battle! Archers, ready!” Gao Ming shouted sharply.

The sound of hooves grew closer and louder.

Under the moonlight, a black-armored knight burst out of the trees, followed by a second, a third…

“What, only a few dozen cavalry?” Gao Ming frowned as he saw the riders emerge.

Arrows whistled through the air as over a hundred rebel archers released the first volley, a dark rain falling swiftly upon the cavalry.

But in the next moment, Gao Ming’s scalp prickled in terror. The arrows, gleaming coldly in the night, either bounced off the riders or were brushed aside, unable to harm them in the least.

“Damn, heavy cavalry!” Gao Ming exclaimed.

Heavy cavalry: knights clad in full armor, their very horses draped in iron as well. Never mind the strength required of such knights—the steeds themselves had to be the best of the best to bear the dual weight of man and armor.

“Fire arrows! Fire arrows!” Gao Ming roared at the archers.

But before they could switch to oil-soaked arrows, the thirty-six heavy cavalrymen crashed ruthlessly into the heart of the convoy.

“Let’s go, we’ll deal with them ourselves!” Gao Ming urged the other two incense masters.

Though formidable, if one could bring down the mounts, heavy cavalry became much less of a threat.

“Kill!”

The three rushed forward, swift as the wind.

But the leading knight was even faster, dismounting in a flash and plunging into their midst, a long-handled war blade whirling in his hands.

A single blow—an arm flew through the air.

“You’re at the eighth stage!” Gao Ming cried out in horror.

In the next moments, three sixth-stage incense masters of the Scarlet Sect fell to Pang Shaozheng’s blade.

…

The next day.

In the military camp outside Jinyuan County.

Pang Shaozheng still wore his soot-black heavy armor. Before him, Feng Zhizhou knelt, silent, sweat soaking the back of his clothes.

“Do you know your crime?” Pang Shaozheng asked calmly.

“I do, Commander! I beg your punishment!” Feng Zhizhou replied, trembling.

This retreat of the Prefecture Army had been his failure. And now, the Prefecture Army’s Deputy Commander—son of the Prefect himself—had come in person because of it.

“We have need of every man right now. When the war is over, I’ll settle accounts with you,” Pang Shaozheng said.

At that moment, hurried footsteps sounded outside the tent.

Soon after—

“Commander, I am late! Please forgive me!” came the voice of Xue Yintu from outside.

“Enter!”

After entering, Xue Yintu saluted Pang Shaozheng.

“Xue Yintu, you once claimed you could suppress the rebellion within a month. Now, more than half the time has passed, and the situation has worsened. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I am unworthy. I beg the Commander’s punishment!” Xue Yintu’s face reddened in shame.

“Hmph, I thought you’d try to defend yourself, but you admit fault readily enough! How many men do we have now?” Pang Shaozheng asked.

“Currently, fifteen thousand. Of those, seven hundred are the elite troops we brought from the Prefecture. Another two thousand are drawn from local sects and gangs. The rest are conscripted laborers,” Xue Yintu reported.

“Only fifteen thousand? Too few! We need at least twenty thousand! The rebels attacking us number over thirty thousand! Continue the conscription—I don’t care how, but in three days, I want twenty thousand men!”

“Commander, I fear the rebels won’t give us that much time,” Xue Yintu replied awkwardly.

The enemy could attack at any moment.

“They will wait a few days before moving. I led a raid against one of their supply convoys, killed three high-ranking leaders,” Pang Shaozheng said, pointing to three severed heads lying on the ground.

“They’re the same Scarlet Sect remnants who raided the granary that night,” Feng Zhizhou muttered.

“The Commander is truly mighty!”

To dare such a raid with only thirty-six heavy cavalry—only Pang Shaozheng had both the skill and the audacity!

“Enough flattery. Have all the local sects and gangs from Jinyuan and neighboring counties been conscripted?”

“Uh, I left them some leeway, so only half of their members have been called up so far,” Xue Yintu admitted, head down.

“Hmph, leeway? Without strength, who are they to speak of leeway? Tell me which forces remain uncalled. I’ll go myself and see who dares refuse!” Pang Shaozheng’s eyes narrowed, his voice cold.

Seeing the Prefect’s son so forceful, Xue Yintu dared not object. Though only thirty, Pang Shaozheng was already at the seventh stage, blessed with formidable strength, able to contend with eighth-stage warriors! In all Jiangning Prefecture, he was a force to be reckoned with.

Especially clad in heavy armor, he could carve a bloody path through the rebel ranks.

“Yes, sir. The nearest is the Azureway Daoist Palace. They have eight members above the fourth stage, and a hundred more disciples.”

“Good. Used well, that’s worth more than a thousand laborers.”

…

That afternoon.

Pang Shaozheng, his thirty-six heavy cavalry, and three hundred elite soldiers headed straight for the Azureway Daoist Palace.

On the mountain, the abbot Qingyangzi faced the burly, black-armored man before him, his expression unchanged.

“Commander Pang, Captain Xue already negotiated with us. I’ve sent eight fourth-stage or higher disciples, and three hundred more to join the fight. But now you come demanding we all be conscripted. Does your word mean nothing?”

“Qingyangzi, I won’t waste words today. I’m not here to ask your opinion—I’m here to tell you. I will conscript you. If you refuse, I’ll wash the Azureway Daoist Palace in blood. I always keep my word,” Pang Shaozheng declared, imperious and unyielding.