Luring the Enemy Deep, Trap Successfully Triggered

The wind still blew. The iron shard hovered over Chen Wuya's palm, its edge lifting slightly as though an invisible hand had flicked it. He stared at it, then raised his gaze toward the entrance of the U-shaped valley in the distance. The horizon had turned gray-white, and the night was retreating from the earth inch by inch.

"Move." He put away the iron shard, hiding it close against his body, and spoke softly to the ten people behind him.

The team moved along the edge of the stony bank, their footsteps feather-light. Chen Wuya walked at the front, the iron shard on his chest trembling faintly with every step. Each subtle vibration made him adjust their direction. He skirted around three patches of visibly loose ground—bronze nails lay buried beneath them, and a firm step would send the vibrations outward.

One team member accidentally kicked a pebble loose. It rolled down the slope with a crisp clatter. Everyone immediately crouched low. Chen Wuya did not turn around, merely raising a hand to signal them to halt. A moment later, two short whistle blasts came from the valley entrance. Two scouts draped in sand-colored cloaks poked their heads out to look around, then, seeing nothing amiss, shrank back into the shadows.

Only after they had vanished completely did Chen Wuya continue onward. He led the squad in through the flank and into the heart of the valley, stopping within a collapsed ravine. The veteran soldiers of the foreign tribes had long been waiting there. One nodded at him. "The terrain has been surveyed. The slopes are loose, and the rolling-stone mechanisms have not been triggered."

Chen Wuya took out wooden frames and ordered the damaged armor fastened securely to them. Then he had three men drag them in turns, weaving