The three hundred people bound for the Western Regions had been carefully selected. Almost all could take up a blade and fight, but the finest were naturally the hundred Luo State Dare-to-Fight Warriors and sixty members of Luo Mo.
The Dare-to-Fight Warriors were quintessential battlefield killers, forming battle arrays almost on instinct. Every one of them, including Luo Zhongkan, was a strapping man. They were also proficient in everything from mounted archery to sabers, spears, swords, and halberds. Even among the Dare-to-Fight Warriors, these men were outstanding.
The Luo Mo members had been selected from the Mohist School's scattered branches and excelled more at single combat. But whether Dare-to-Fight Warriors or Luo Mo, dealing with mounted bandits was effortless for them.
This band of mounted bandits was fairly numerous, around five hundred strong. Among the surrounding tribes, that would have counted as a relatively large tribe. With numbers on their side, they might indeed have proved more than a match for ordinary travelers heading west.
But one look at their rust-speckled weapons and bodies without even leather armor told Luo Zhongkan that they were nothing more than a disorderly rabble.
Although their expedition numbered only three hundred, they had brought a great many wagons precisely because they needed to carry armor, bows, crossbows, and other powerful military equipment, along with plenty of medicines and other supplies.
The mounted bandits had barely swept forward with wild cries when a rain of arrows greeted them. After just one volley, with the Dare-to-Fight Warriors picking individual targets, their numbers fell by a tenth. Dozens of bodies tumbled from their horses.
Blood flowed in streams. Their faces still bore expressions of incredulous terror, as though they could not understand why their fat sheep had suddenly sprouted sharp teeth.
Luo Zhongkan reached up and lowered