Night Raider

"Get up, quick." Gongshu Feng was the first to notice. He sprang up from the burlap blanket and shook his younger brother, who was still fast asleep.

"What's happening?" The latter clutched his head and asked groggily, "Did someone come?"

"I don't know, but we'd better be careful." Gongshu Feng lowered his voice. Anyone still riding through the wilderness at this hour was no ordinary person.

If they were bandits, they generally would not target a refugee group several hundred strong. There was nothing valuable to rob, for one thing, and they might lose men instead. But that was only under normal circumstances. Who knew whether something unexpected might happen? If the crowd panicked and trampled one another in their flight, it was certainly better to be prepared first.

Gongshu Feng looked toward the pitch-black north—by the faint moonlight, he could just make out a group of riders approaching. Quite a few of them held torches, and judging by their numbers, there were likewise more than a hundred of them.

By then, most people had already awakened.

As wanderers, they had an instinctive response to such situations. The young and able-bodied men picked up sticks and pitchforks for self-defense and faced the newcomers, while the women, elderly, and children huddled together, waiting uneasily for the danger to pass.

Yet when those people drew within several dozen paces, Gongshu Feng sucked in a sharp breath. The other side's equipment was complete in every respect. They wore armor, bronze helmets, and hand crossbows at their waists. Even the clothes beneath their armor were neat and orderly, nothing like people who often slept in the open and traveled through forests.

Bandits did not have such gear!

"Who are you? What do you want?" someone asked, summoning his courage.

"I'm the Steward of the