There were enemies about.
The sounds of crossbow bolts tearing through the air kept coming. Clearly, quite a few people were locked in fierce combat.
A band of more than ten scattered Great Sui soldiers was being pursued by Turkic men, arrow after arrow flying wildly through the air.
Some fell with arrows in them; others ran desperately with wounds. Everything was in chaos.
One fled, another chased; even with wings, he could not escape.
Zhao Mu hid in the shadows, his bow drawn to the full, but did not dare loose his arrow.
Ever since Li Ping'an had killed several Turkic men, he had begun following Li Ping'an's lead completely.
"Twenty-one, twenty-two..."
Li Ping'an counted silently and waited a little longer.
He saw no pursuers farther behind. There were twenty-five Turkic men in all.
And they were not in formation.
If these scattered soldiers turned to fight, they probably would not have been beaten so badly.
Who would win and who would lose was still uncertain.
But scattered soldiers were called scattered soldiers precisely because they were "scattered."
They had no commander, nor any ability to organize an attack.
Their instinct upon seeing an enemy was to flee for their lives.
A Turkic man who had fallen behind slipped on the ice and landed on his backside.
He was about to climb up when a hand suddenly pressed down on his head.
A flash of cold light swept across his neck.
Li Ping'an swiftly crouched low and jogged forward.
The Great Sui soldiers had fled in a frenzy, and the Turkic men had chased in a frenzy, never imagining that enemies would ambush them from behind.
As though wind had sprung beneath his feet, Li Ping'an approached each lagging Turkic soldier without a sound, his Staff-Sword concealed in the