Hu Xiaotian had already spotted the man at the head of the column. It was none other than Feng Xianlin, who had failed to ambush him the previous night and fled in disgrace. Hu Xiaotian said, "Unless I'm mistaken, most of them are Sword Palace disciples. They've come for me!"
Zhuge Guanqi nodded to Huo Shengnan and said quietly, "Crescent Moon Formation!"
"Form ranks!" Huo Shengnan shouted.
The soldiers behind them swiftly spread out, forming an arcing line in moments. Viewed from above, it resembled a crescent moon.
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Zhuge Guanqi and Huo Shengnan rode into the formation, disappearing among the ranks. Huo Shengnan's voice rang out again. "Loose!"
Hundreds of feathered arrows shot into the sky, pouring down upon the enemy ranks along with the torrential rain.
Clack! Clack! Clack! A dense clatter of scraping metal rang out as the Western Sichuan soldiers opened steel-ribbed iron umbrellas. These blocked the sky and the rain of arrows alike, shielding their bodies. Arrowheads showered the refined-iron canopies, producing a heart-rattling barrage of impacts.
Once the arrow storm passed, the steel umbrellas folded shut again, becoming long spears in their hands.
Hu Xiaotian's expression changed as he watched the enemy draw steadily closer. He pulled the sword hilt from his waist. To break their formation, he would have to rely on the Lightsaber, that deadly weapon.
Seeing that the volley had failed, Zhuge Guanqi immediately lowered the little flag in his hand at an angle, then swept it sideways. The herald shouted, "Shoot low!"
The front-rank archers sank into half crouches, holding their longbows parallel to the ground and loosing their arrows low. This volley did more damage than the last, striking over a dozen enemies, but most of the arrows were still blocked by their iron umbrellas.
Zhuge