Bandit Suppression

Cheng Yang had slept only four hours. He woke before dawn had fully broken.

He rolled over and sat up, checking the pack he had prepared the night before once more: dried rations, a water skin, a few taels of loose silver, and the long saber confiscated from the Golden Tiger Gang. Its scabbard lay beside his pillow, still cool with the night's chill.

He picked up his pack and left the room.

On the training ground, a City Guard soldier was taking attendance with a roster in hand.

When he called Chen Clan Martial Hall, Cheng Yang answered. The soldier glanced up at him, said nothing, shut the roster, and turned away.

The group followed behind him, filing out through the martial hall's side gate.

There were few pedestrians on the streets that early in the morning. Most storefronts still had their shutters up, with only breakfast stalls set up along the roadside, white steam drifting over with the scent of scallion oil.

A few early-rising townsfolk stood beneath the eaves and watched them, their eyes carrying both curiosity and reverence.

"Senior Brother Cheng, you must be careful," a young disciple said softly behind him.

"Senior Brother Cheng, watch yourself on the road."

Cheng Yang turned back and nodded to them, his tone mild. "Stay close."

He did not offer many polite words, but he answered every reminder with sincerity.

Of the nine Chen Clan Martial Hall disciples accompanying him this time, he actually could not name more than half. They usually trained separately and had little contact with one another.

But since he was the leader of this group, he still had to look after them where he could.

The group passed through the city gates.

More people had gathered outside the city than he had expected, scattered in several loose clusters. Some wore short martial outfits, some carried sabers, and some shouldered long staffs.

Cheng Yang scanned the crowd but saw no familiar faces. He simply led his own people a few steps aside, chose a clean stone stair, and sat down to wait.

He had just closed his eyes to rest for a moment when several junior brothers beside him suddenly stirred, and someone muttered a curse.

Cheng Yang opened his eyes and followed their gazes. Another group was entering through the city gate, around a dozen people, each with a snarling, clawing "wolf" embroidered across the chest.

The leader was lean and capable-looking, a long spear resting across his shoulder, its tip slanting toward the sky. His gait was flamboyant. When his gaze swept over and met Cheng Yang's, the corner of his mouth lifted slightly, the smile brimming with undisguised provocation.

Shadow Wolf Martial Hall.

Cheng Yang knew the grudge between the two sides ran deep.

Hall Master Chen Feiyi and Ying Yi had held resentment against each other for years. Their disciples below them met with hostile glares, and whenever they encountered one another at the Ascending Dragon Conference each year, they were bound to fight until blood was spilled.

Yet Cheng Yang merely gave them a faint glance before withdrawing his gaze.

The City Guard had not arrived yet, and Wei He's people were watching from within the city. No matter how much the other side provoked them, they could not possibly start a fight now. There was no need to waste an expression on a battle that would never happen.

He had no intention of paying them any mind, but the people around him thought differently.

"What are those Shadow Wolf people staring at?"

"Tch. He carries that long spear like a hoe. Isn't he embarrassed?"

"Senior Brother Chen, didn't that short bastard over there get kicked off the stage by one of ours at last year's Ascending Dragon Conference? How does he still dare stand so far forward?"

The Chen Clan Martial Hall disciples spoke one after another, neither too loudly nor too quietly—just loud enough for the other side to hear.

Shadow Wolf Martial Hall was unwilling to be outdone. Some cursed back, some made rude gestures, and the two sides began hurling insults across several dozen paces.

Cheng Yang closed his eyes again.

Let them quarrel. Once the army arrived, they would naturally quiet down.

Sure enough, hoofbeats rang out not long afterward.

When Cheng Yang opened his eyes, a tide of black-armored figures was pouring out from the far end of the official road.

More than ten riders charged out first, their horses' hooves flying as they shattered the morning light across the ground.

A vast mass of infantry followed behind them, marching in perfect order, every step striking the earth with the same rhythm.

Cheng Yang rose to his feet, his gaze sweeping across that iron-gray formation as his heart tightened slightly.

Aside from having the Five Elements Sect behind him, what allowed Wei He to force every power in Qinglin County to bow their heads was these four hundred City Guard soldiers.

Every one of them practiced martial arts. Even the weakest were in the Skin Tempering Realm. Perhaps that was nothing remarkable in the martial world, but once they formed a military formation, it was another matter entirely.

Only a little over a hundred had come today, yet the murderous aura they exuded had already silenced everyone outside the city without them realizing it.

Wei He rode at the very front, the iron plates on his shoulder armor glinting dully in the morning light.

He swept his gaze over the crowd without wasting words on pleasantries. He merely raised a hand, his tone crisp and decisive. "Everyone, follow me into the mountains!"

The force set out.

Cheng Yang led the Chen Clan Martial Hall people behind the City Guard and broke into a jog.

He had experienced people running alongside horses more than once already. There was nothing to complain about.

They ran more than ten li in one breath before stopping at the foot of the Blackwind Mountain Range for a brief rest.

Cheng Yang's breathing remained steady, and he had barely broken a sweat. With the foundation of the Four-Gate Perfection Stance Art supporting him, this distance was truly nothing to him.

After resting for about the time it took to drink a cup of tea, Wei He gave the order, and the group began entering the mountains.

The mountain path was rugged, narrowing the farther they went. Overhead, layers upon layers of tree canopies intertwined, blocking out the daylight until only scattered specks filtered through.

Rotting leaves and slick gravel crunched beneath their feet, and every step required particular care.

They encountered several mutated beasts along the way, but before those creatures could even approach, a volley from the City Guard's Divine Crossbow Mechanisms nailed them to the ground. The entire process was clean and efficient, barely delaying their journey.

"We're almost there," someone ahead said softly. Cheng Yang looked up and saw a patch of gray-brown shapes emerging halfway up the mountain: wooden walls, watchtowers, and several crooked flags hanging from bamboo poles, snapping fiercely in the mountain wind.

The Big-Ears Gang's stronghold was built upon a steep slope, with sheer cliffs embracing it on three sides. Only a narrow path led up from the front. It was terrain easy to defend and hard to attack.

But Wei He clearly did not take that terrain seriously.

"Kill with me!"

He drew his saber and pointed it forward. The City Guard answered in unison, and the front-row soldiers raised their Divine Crossbow Mechanisms and unleashed a volley.

Several sentries guarding the stockade wall had not even managed to sound their warning horns before arrows pierced their chests. Their bodies tilted and tumbled from the wooden platforms.

The stronghold gate shattered with a thunderous crash beneath the warhorses' impact. A torrent of iron armor surged through the entrance, saber light crisscrossing as cries of battle instantly filled the entire mountain stronghold.

Cheng Yang gripped his saber and followed them in.

The City Guard advanced far too quickly. He scarcely needed to exert himself, only occasionally adding a few strikes at the edges to claim a head. By Wei He's rules, each bandit head was worth five taels of silver. There was no reason not to take them.

His blade flashed, and another head rolled into the mud.

The resistance inside the stronghold was far weaker than expected.

The City Guard's crushing advance left those bandits almost no chance to fight back. Some had only just grabbed their blades before crossbow bolts shot them down. Some turned to flee but were trapped beneath the stockade walls and hacked down in a storm of blades. Even the few minor leaders who knew martial arts lasted only several exchanges before being encircled and annihilated by the iron-clad soldiers.

In less than the time it took two incense sticks to burn, the battle cries within the stronghold gradually faded, leaving only scattered shrieks and the ragged gasps of the dying.

Cheng Yang stepped through the blood covering the ground and reached the center of the open space, casually flicking the droplets of blood from his blade.

Too smooth.

From entering the stronghold to clearing it out, the entire process felt like a sheet spread out beforehand—they only had to walk over it and flatten it beneath their feet.

A faint unease rose in Cheng Yang's heart for no reason, but then he thought it over. It was normal enough.

This was the City Guard, and Wei He himself was leading them.

Using cannons to kill mosquitoes was exactly what this was.

"Where is that old thief He Jiayi?" Wei He's voice suddenly darkened.

He sat atop his horse, his gaze sweeping over the row of counted heads on the ground. "And the second and third chieftains? Why is there no sign of any of them?"

It seemed they had learned in advance that he was coming to suppress the bandits and fled beforehand.

That was what he thought.

After a moment of silence, he said coldly, "Using their own men as bait while running away themselves—truly the sort of thing they would do. As expected of a pack of bandits." He sheathed his saber, his voice neither loud nor soft. "Clear out the spoils. Prepare to withdraw."

The City Guard moved at his command and began searching through the stronghold's supplies and corpses.

Cheng Yang stood at the edge of the clearing, watching those iron-clad figures weave busily between the stockade walls.

Mountain wind poured in from the direction of the cliffs, carrying the raw scent of grass and trees. He unconsciously tightened his grip on the saber hilt.

Just as he was about to turn and call over his own junior brothers, an incomparably shrill beast roar suddenly exploded from deep within the forest.

Cheng Yang's hand clenched around his saber hilt.

Everyone stopped what they were doing at the same time.

So there really was an unexpected development...