The brief respite did not last long. Mountain winds carried the stench of blood over everyone's feverish bodies, bringing a trace of chill and reminding them that they were still in perilous territory.
Qin Shi swept his gaze around. Seeing that the wounded had received basic treatment and everyone's breathing had mostly steadied, he spoke again, his voice much more solemn. "You little bastards, don't celebrate too soon. Those were merely a few watchdogs Qingfeng Village had stationed at the foot of the mountain. The real hard bone lies ahead!"
He raised a hand and pointed upward. Following his finger, they saw the mountain path suddenly narrow not far ahead. Near-vertical cliffs rose on either side, as though cleaved apart by a giant axe, leaving only a narrow crack wide enough for two or three people to pass abreast. Light barely filtered down between the towering cliff faces, making the passage seem deep, dark, and oppressive.
"That is the only route up the mountain. The locals call it One-Inch Sky." Qin Shi's tone was grave. "Those murdering scum may not amount to much, but with this damned place to rely on, they can hold their ground just fine. There must be logs and boulders piled up above, and archers and blade-wielders absolutely must be lying in ambush on both cliff tops. If a large force charges in rashly, they'll be living targets—walking straight into a dead end!"
At his words, the crowd's freshly relaxed nerves tightened once more. Looking at the treacherous terrain, they all sucked in cold breaths.
"Then what do we do?" someone could not help asking.
Qin Shi gave a dark chuckle, baring white teeth with a trace of cruelty. "What do we do? Eat it cold! In a place like this, numbers are useless. It comes