11: Chapter 11 Fire Breaks Out, Arrows Fly

Long arrows pierced the air, carrying a piercing shriek.

It wasn't just one.

It was dozens.

The arrowheads were wrapped in oil-soaked hemp, burning as they traced dozens of crimson arcs in the heavy morning mist, like a flock of bloodthirsty fire crows pouncing on a flock of sheep.

"Fire arrows! They're fire arrows!"

On the watchtower at the village entrance, He Shan's pupils shrank suddenly as he let out a hoarse roar. Before his voice even faded, the first fire arrow struck with a 'thud' into the thatched roof of Old Tian's house at the east end. The bone-dry thatch ignited instantly upon contact with the fire, and flames surged up with a 'whoosh', consuming half the shed in an instant.

Immediately following, the second, the third... fire arrows fell like raindrops. The houses in Yangjiao Ravine were already simple, mostly wooden frames with thatched roofs; now under fire attack, seven or eight fires flared up in the blink of an eye. Thick smoke billowed, carrying the smell of burning as it shot into the sky.

"Put out the fire! Quickly, get water!"

Tian Dali rushed out of his house barefoot, his hair still stuck with bits of straw. Seeing the fire spreading, his eyes turned red. He grabbed a wooden bucket from under the eaves and rushed toward the old well in the village. Several men who had been startled awake followed him, frantically turning the windlass.

The startled cries and weeping of women and children rose from everywhere. Qin Wan rushed out of a smoking house holding a three- or four-year-old girl, her sleeves already scorched. Granny Xue leaned on her cane, knocking on doors house by house, her voice trembling with urgency: "Come out! Everyone, go to the open space in front of the ancestral hall!"

At the village entrance, Lu Zhao stood with his hand on his sword, his expression calm, yet his gaze was terrifyingly cold.

In the morning mist, more than thirty riders of the Liu Family Black Armor Guard were arrayed on the road, horses snorting white vapor, their iron armor reflecting the firelight. Liu Three-Knives sat tall on his horse, his triangular eyes scanning the chaos in the village, a faint, imperceptible sneer on his lips. Behind him, two lieutenants held powerful bows, the strings still vibrating slightly.

"Lu Zhao," Liu Three-Knives spoke, his voice not loud, yet it suppressed the distant clamor, "The three-day deadline has arrived. The winter defense tax and the antidote—are they ready?"

Lu Zhao didn't answer. He looked toward the west and north—the news A-Fei had risked his life to bring back half an hour ago was correct. There were shadows flickering in the forest, and though the Killing Intent was hidden and not yet unleashed, that suppressed sense of restless movement could not be hidden from the increasingly sharp perception in his spiritual platform.

The people from the Funiu Gang had indeed come.

And they came so coincidentally, arriving right alongside Liu Three-Knives, surrounding Yangjiao Ravine on three sides.

This was no coincidence.

"Steward Liu," Lu Zhao slowly exhaled a breath of white vapor, turning his gaze back. "For the winter defense tax, even if the ten households of Yangjiao Ravine sold everything they owned, they couldn't scrape together a hundred Spirit Stones. As for the antidote... the poison Liu Biao was struck with had no cure to begin with; he was destined to die in three days. What I said that day was merely to give him a quick end to spare him the suffering."

The muscle at the corner of Liu Three-Knives' eye twitched.

"So there's nothing to talk about?"

"There is," Lu Zhao said. "Yangjiao Ravine is willing to pay twenty Spirit Stones in Protection Money according to past custom. Furthermore, since the Funiu Gang is attacking today, if the Liu Family is willing to uphold justice and repel the bandit threat, the village will scrape together another ten stones as a reward."

These words were spoken neither humbly nor arrogantly, providing a graceful exit while also pointing out the current crisis—with bandits surrounding them, if your Liu Family tries to force us, we'll settle for nothing less than mutual destruction.

Liu Three-Knives narrowed his eyes, staring at Lu Zhao for a moment, then suddenly laughed.

"Kid, do you think I'll be scared just because you brought up the Funiu Gang?" He lightly tapped his palm with his riding crop. "I know exactly how much weight Boss Wu carries. His daring to come today is nothing more than wanting to take advantage of a fire. Once I've dealt with you, I'll 'talk' with him, and he'll naturally know where he should beat it to."

As soon as he finished speaking, a whistle suddenly sounded from the west end of the village!

Dozens of figures abruptly surged out of the forest, all wearing multicolored fur coats and holding sabers and axes. The leader, with a single eye flashing with fierce light, was precisely Boss Wu. He was in no hurry to charge the formation, instead leading his crowd to a halt at the edge of the woods, looking toward the village entrance from afar, his single eye full of mockery.

"Liu Three-Knives!" Boss Wu's gravelly voice pierced the morning mist. "You collect your levy, and I'll take my revenge! We'll mind our own business! Once you've finished your business, this village... belongs to me!"

Liu Three-Knives' face darkened.

Boss Wu's words were extremely poisonous. They seemed like a concession, but in reality, they put the Liu Family on the spot—if you forcibly collect the taxes and drive the villagers to death, you're clearing the field for my Funiu Gang; if you can't collect them and lose your prestige, I'll come in to pick up the pieces.

Caught between a rock and a hard place.

Lu Zhao, however, took this gap to whisper to Yan Meng behind him, "Brother Yan, take the people from the War Martial Hall and protect the elderly and weak as you go to the ancestral hall cellar. Brother Zhong, you lead the able-bodied to fight the fire, but keep thirty percent of your strength in reserve to guard against anyone sneaking in during the chaos."

Yan Meng nodded and turned to walk quickly away. Zhong Tiegu gave a low roar, swung his iron staff, and led over a dozen men toward where the fire was most intense.

The firelight in the village grew brighter, thick smoke filled the air, and cries were mixed with the sound of splashing water. Liu Three-Knives' peripheral vision swept across, seeing that although the villagers were in chaos, they were not collapsing; firefighting and defense were each being handled with order. He retracted a few more points of his previous contempt.

He suddenly raised his hand.

The two lieutenants behind him drew their bows again, but they weren't aiming into the village; instead, they pointed diagonally toward the sky.

"Swoosh—Bang!"

Two signal arrows exploded, the sound carrying for miles.

From the distant mountain forests came the muffled sound of hooves and clashing armor plates—the Liu Family actually had a hidden move!

Boss Wu's single eye narrowed, and he spat on the ground, yet he did not retreat; instead, he slowly drew the Ghost-Head Saber from his waist. The bandit crowd behind him also grew restless, the sound of sabers and axes leaving their sheaths forming a continuous wave.

The three parties were in a standoff, Killing Intent like a bowstring being drawn tighter and tighter.

At this very moment, another change occurred!

From the low woods on the north side of the village, near the direction of the rock cave, more than twenty black shadows suddenly darted out! These people moved extremely fast, not noisy like the Funiu Gang bandits, but instead silent as wolves. Using the thick smoke and chaos, they lunged straight for the heart of the village!

Their goal was clear—not to kill, but to set fires!

Seven or eight fire arrows were shot from their hands, accurately falling toward the grain stacks and woodsheds near the ancestral hall! Some even took out fire starters and directly ignited the thatched huts along the way!

"Dammit!" He Shan saw it clearly from the watchtower and cursed loudly, "It's Liu Three-Knives' people! He's in a standoff on the surface while secretly sending people around the back to burn the grain!"

Lu Zhao's heart sank.

If the grain stacks were destroyed, Yangjiao Ravine wouldn't survive this winter. Liu Three-Knives was trying to wipe them out completely!

"Brother He!" Lu Zhao looked up and shouted sharply, "Stop them! Shoot the leader!"

He Shan gritted his teeth and pulled three arrows from his quiver—the quiver was empty; these were the last three. He braced the bow with his left foot and pulled the string with three fingers of his right hand, the bow bent like a full moon, his gaze locked onto the shadow charging in front, who was currently swinging a saber toward the straw curtain of a grain stack.

That shadow seemed to be one of the lieutenants, his movements agile and his saber technique ruthless. Having already cut down two people, he had reached the grain stack.

He Shan held his breath.

The wind was coming from the east, carrying smoke; the arrow would drift three inches.

He slightly adjusted the tip of his bow.

He let go.

The arrow left the string, silent and stealthy.

The lieutenant was about to strike with his saber when he suddenly felt a chill in his throat. Looking down, a section of the arrow had already vanished into his neck, leaving only the fletching vibrating slightly. He opened his mouth, blood gushing out, and fell backward.

"Good shot!" Yan Meng caught sight of it from the entrance of the ancestral hall and couldn't help but cheer.

He Shan showed no joy, quickly nocking his second arrow and aiming at another black-clad man who had already ignited a woodshed.

Another shot!

The arrow was like a meteor, piercing through the chest.

The third person sensed something was wrong and hurriedly ducked behind a companion. He Shan's third arrow had already arrived, actually tracing a slight arc in the air to bypass the obstruction and 'thudding' into his shoulder blade. The man screamed and fell, the fire starter slipping from his hand.

Three arrows, three people.

Even though Liu Three-Knives was used to slaughter, his eyelids couldn't help but twitch at this moment. This hunter's archery could no longer be described as 'accurate'; it was simply a death warrant from the King of Hell!

"Kill him!" Liu Three-Knives pointed sharply toward the watchtower.

Upon hearing the order, five or six of the remaining ten-plus black-clad death soldiers immediately changed direction and lunged toward the watchtower. They no longer hid themselves, and as they moved, there were actually faint fluctuations of blood and qi—they were all martial artists who had practiced rudimentary Cultivation Techniques!

He Shan's arrows were spent, so he drew the hunting knife from his waist and lowered his body. The watchtower was made of wood; once surrounded, his only option was a fight to the death.

Just then, from the direction of the grain stacks, a muffled boom suddenly sounded!

Zhong Tiegu was covered in fire—he had actually just rushed directly into a burning woodshed and carried out a large vat full of water. Now, with the muscles in his arms bulging, he smashed the water vat fiercely toward the flames at the edge of the grain stack!

"Crash—"

Water splashed everywhere, and the fire's momentum was stifled.

Zhong Tiegu's beard and hair were scorched as he roared: "Protect the grain! Use soil to bury it!"

Several men snapped out of it, grabbing shovels to scoop up sand and soil to cover the flames. Qin Wan led several women, dragging over soaked cotton quilts and frantically beating at the fire.

In the chaos, the group of black-clad death soldiers had already reached the bottom of the watchtower, with two climbing the ladder and three circling to the back.

He Shan held his hunting knife horizontally, the blade reflecting the firelight.

The ladder 'creaked', and the first head peeked over the floorboards.

He Shan swung his knife.

The blade flashed, and blood splattered three feet.

The corpse fell, crashing into a man below. However, the rest of the death warriors were undaunted by death and continued to charge upward. The sound of hammering also came from behind the building—they wanted to tear it down!

Seeing this, Lu Zhao's figure moved as he intended to go help.

"Kid, your opponent is me."

Liu Three-Knives's cold voice drifted over. He had dismounted at some unknown point and was walking forward slowly, his long saber unsheathed by half an inch, his aura locking onto Lu Zhao.

At the same time, by the woods at the west of the village, Boss Wu saw that the village had descended into chaos and that the Liu Family had engaged Lu Zhao; a fierce light flared in his single eye.

"An opportunity!" He pointed his Ghost-Head Saber. "Boys, seize the moment and charge in! Grabbing the grain! Seize the women! Kill them all!"

The bandits roared their assent and pounced toward the village like a pack of wolves released from their cage!

In an instant, Yangjiao Ravine was plunged into a desperate death trap, surrounded by flames on three sides and blades from all directions!

Lu Zhao took a deep breath. Within his spiritual terrace, a sensation surfaced again, yet it wasn't a warning of crisis, but rather a brief and simple message:

[Combat immersion: Nine Yang Divine Skill circulation speed increased, blood and Qi recovery slightly enhanced.]

He felt that wisp of purple Qi in his Dantian become lively and circulate on its own after being stimulated by the Killing Intent, and the exhaustion from staying up all night diminished slightly.

But it was a drop in the bucket.

Before him, Liu Three-Knives was pressing closer step by step, his aura having climbed to the Peak of the fourth level of Qi Refining, far beyond what Boss Wu could compare to. In the distance, He Shan was in imminent danger, and the bandits were about to break into the village.

He had to break the deadlock.

Lu Zhao's gaze swept across the field and suddenly fixed on those black-clad death warriors who were pouncing toward the watchtower—they all took orders from Liu Three-Knives. If Liu Three-Knives were restrained, they would surely return to assist him.

And the one who could tie down Liu Three-Knives...

He looked toward the west of the village.

Boss Wu.

"Steward Liu," Lu Zhao suddenly spoke, his voice not loud but clearly reaching Liu Three-Knives's ears. "Do you know why Boss Wu is so determined to destroy my Yangjiao Ravine today?"

Liu Three-Knives's footsteps paused.

"Why?"

"Because he lost something in my village," Lu Zhao said slowly. "Something significant enough to have a bounty placed on him by Black Mountain City."

Liu Three-Knives's pupils constricted slightly. "What thing?"

Lu Zhao did not answer. Instead, he raised his voice, channeling a trace of Nine Yang True Qi so that every word fell like iron striking stone, echoing throughout the village entrance:

"Boss Wu! I was the one who buried the corpses of your three scouts! The 'goods' they carried are also with me! You want them? Ask Steward Liu first if he agrees!"

These words were half-true and half-false, yet they were like a massive boulder crashing into the already surging undercurrents!

Boss Wu's single eye suddenly turned blood-red!

Those three scouts had indeed been carrying a batch of "stolen goods" recently plundered from Black Mountain City, which were intended to be moved and hidden. Now that their whereabouts were unknown, he had already suspected Yangjiao Ravine of pocketing them. Having it pointed out publicly by Lu Zhao now made him fly into an uncontrollable rage!

"You little bastard! I'll tear you apart!"

Boss Wu roared madly, no longer caring about the Liu Family. He swung his Ghost-Head Saber and led the bandits straight for the village entrance! His plan was ruthless—he would first join forces with Liu Three-Knives to kill Lu Zhao and reclaim the goods, and it wouldn't be too late to turn hostile afterward!

Liu Three-Knives's expression changed.

He didn't care if Boss Wu lived or died, but he absolutely could not let him come into contact with Lu Zhao in public—if Lu Zhao really produced something incriminating in front of so many people, how would the Liu Family explain themselves?

"Stop him!" Liu Three-Knives barked.

The Black Armor Guards behind him moved in unison, more than ten riders galloping forward to intercept the bandits. Liu Three-Knives himself unleashed a flash of saber light, slashing directly at Lu Zhao—he had to kill this boy quickly to eliminate any future trouble!

Lu Zhao wanted exactly this moment of chaos.

His figure retreated rapidly, not out of cowardice, but to charge diagonally toward the watchtower!

Liu Three-Knives's strike hit nothing but air, the Saber Qi carving a three-foot-deep trench into the ground. Seeing Lu Zhao flee without fighting, he was first stunned, then realized—this boy intends to save that hunter!

"Chase him!"

He leaped to pursue, but a burly figure suddenly crashed in from the side, a Ghost-Head Saber carrying a foul wind slashing toward his face!

"Liu Three-Knives! Get lost!" Boss Wu's single eye was bloodshot; he had already lost himself to the killing frenzy.

Liu Three-Knives was forced to pull back his saber to block. With a loud "Clang," the two men each retreated a step.

Meanwhile, Lu Zhao had already reached the base of the watchtower.

Behind the building, three black-clad death warriors were hacking fiercely at the wooden pillars, and the floorboards were teetering on the verge of collapse. Above, He Shan was struggling to cope, blood already visible on his shoulder, yet he still held the stairwell entrance with grim determination.

Lu Zhao said nothing. He picked up a discarded wood-chopping knife from the ground and poured Nine Yang True Qi into his arms, causing the blade to emit an almost imperceptible gold-red glow.

The first strike, a diagonal slash.

A death warrior turned to block, but his steel saber was actually severed by the wood-chopping knife! The momentum of the strike did not dissipate, tearing through the leather armor and sinking three inches into the flesh. The man fell to the ground screaming.

The second strike, a horizontal sweep.

Another man raised his saber to parry, but a massive force surged through, causing his webbing to split and the steel saber to fly from his hand. Lu Zhao stepped forward and delivered an elbow strike to his chest, the sound of breaking bones clearly audible.

Seeing this, the third person retreated in horror, only to crash into a tower-like figure—Zhong Tiegu had rushed over at some point, swinging his iron staff down in a wide arc!

"Bang!"

Brains splattered.

Lu Zhao looked up. "Brother He, jump down!"

He Shan did not hesitate and leaped down. Lu Zhao reached out to support him, neutralizing the force of the fall. The two men rolled on the ground in unison, avoiding the falling splinters of wood from above.

The watchtower collapsed with a roar, sending dust and smoke flying everywhere.

He Shan leaned on his saber, panting, blood flowing from his shoulder like a fountain. Lu Zhao tore off a piece of his hem and quickly bandaged him, but his gaze flickered toward the village entrance.

The Liu Family's Black Armor Guards and the Funiu Gang bandits were already engaged in a chaotic melee. Liu Three-Knives and Boss Wu were exchanging blows, every move a killing strike, both clearly intending to kill two birds with one stone.

The fires in the village were gradually weakening, and most of the grain stacks had been saved. Yan Meng led the youths of the War Martial Hall in a simple circular formation, guarding the entrance to the ancestral hall and fighting with the scattered bandits who had broken in. Qin Wan and Granny Xue led the women and children, using bricks and hot water to hold off the enemies.

The situation was temporarily stabilized.

But Lu Zhao knew this was merely an illusion. Neither Liu Three-Knives nor Boss Wu were good people. Once they realized neither could defeat the other, they would very likely stop and slaughter Yangjiao Ravine first before dividing the spoils.

He had to make them completely tear each other apart.

His gaze fell on Boss Wu, and the sensation in his spiritual terrace suddenly jumped—this man's blood and Qi were vigorous, yet they held a faint sense of instability and agitation, especially between his chest and abdomen, as if from an unhealed old injury.

Was it a backlash from the ominous evil in the grotto last night?

In a flash, Lu Zhao had a plan.

He leaned down to pick up a short crossbow dropped by a death warrior and shoved it to He Shan. "Do you still have strength?"

He Shan grinned, his mouth full of blood. "I do."

"Shoot Boss Wu three inches below his right ribs, at that old wound."

He Shan didn't ask why. He took the short crossbow, knelt on one knee, and used the cover of the ruins to squint and aim.

In the melee, Boss Wu had just clashed hard with Liu Three-Knives, and both were shaken back. The blood and Qi at his old wound stagnated, causing his movements to slow by an imperceptible fraction.

It was now.

He Shan pulled the trigger.

The crossbow bolt shot out silently.

Boss Wu suddenly felt a pain in his ribs. Looking down, a section of the bolt had sunk into a gap in his leather armor, and blood was gushing out. His single eye widened in rage, and he whipped his head around toward the source of the bolt—only to see He Shan putting away the crossbow with Lu Zhao standing beside him.

"Liu Three-Knives! You fucking backstabbed me?!" Boss Wu roared, assuming this arrow had been ordered by the Liu Family.

Liu Three-Knives was also taken aback, but then he caught sight of Lu Zhao and understood clearly, cursed the boy's cunning in his heart. But how could he explain? He only sneered, "So what if I backstabbed you? Today, your Funiu Gang will be wiped out!"

Boss Wu was furious and disregarded everything else, his Ghost-Head Saber dancing wildly with every move being a desperate strike, actually forcing Liu Three-Knives to retreat repeatedly.

Seeing this, Lu Zhao whispered, "Withdraw! Back to the ancestral hall!"

He Shan, Zhong Tiegu, and the others fought as they retreated, joining up with Yan Meng to enter the ancestral hall courtyard and tightly shutting the gates.

Outside the gates, the sounds of killing shook the heavens.

Inside the gates, everyone was panting, everyone was injured, and their faces were ashen.

Lu Zhao leaned against the door, listening to the clashing of weapons and the screams outside, and slowly let out a breath of turbid air.

Diverting the trouble had succeeded.

But in the next moment, his pupils contracted sharply.

Within his spiritual terrace, that ominous palpitation from the depths of the grotto emerged again without warning, clearer and more violent than last night!

It was as if something underground had been awakened by the blood and slaughter above and was slowly opening its eyes.

The sounds of killing outside the ancestral hall gradually subsided, and Liu Three-Knives's cold voice came through: "Lu Zhao, open the door. Boss Wu has fled; it's time for you and me to settle our accounts." Before his voice had even faded, the ground of the ancestral hall suddenly shook, and from the cracks in the blue bricks, wisps of eerie blue cold mist seeped out, bone-chillingly cold—that thing underground had actually been triggered!