At that moment, in the vanguard army's camp, Lord Wang stood solemnly before the command tent.
He gripped the secret order from the city lord tightly, staring fixedly at the five blood-red characters on it.
"All troops, hear my command!"
Lord Wang suddenly spoke. "Draw your blades, nock your arrows! We attack the mountain in half an hour! Remember, the city lord has ordered us to leave no survivors! Kill everyone from Northern Mang Mountain on sight, young and old alike!"
The soldiers on the drill ground froze for a moment, then thundered their assent.
Previous attacks on the mountain had always stopped short. When had they ever done anything but fight, stop, and fight again?
A young soldier fumbled as he drew his blade, his scabbard clanging against his armor plates. The veteran beside him shot him a glare:
"What are you panicking for? Just don't go soft when it's time to cut people down!"
Half an hour later, the vanguard army's column crawled up the mountain path toward Northern Mang Mountain like a black snake.
Lord Wang rode on horseback, a ring-pommel saber hanging at his waist.
Every so often, he looked back and saw the soldiers of the battle supervision enforcement squad following the column with gleaming long blades raised.
Anyone who dared retreat would first die beneath the blades of their own men.
Meanwhile, in the grass a li away, Qing Chen lay prone amid the clumps, grass sap smeared all over his face. It itched so badly that he gritted his teeth, but he dared not raise a hand to wipe it off.
He had worried earlier that the vanguard army was merely putting on a show. Now, judging by this display, they really were going to fight for their lives.
The entire army advanced toward Northern Mang Mountain like a crazed beast.
"Now that's more like it."
This suited Qing Chen's plan to fish in troubled waters perfectly.
But a powerful sense of urgency also surged within him.
He understood that if the vanguard army really captured Northern Mang Mountain,
and he still had not obtained the treasure, then the immortal cultivation treasure he sought would become even harder to get his hands on.
Only after the vanguard army's column had gone farther away did Qing Chen climb out of the grass, brush the bits of grass off his clothes, and hurry to where he had hidden his horse.
It was a chestnut horse, currently nibbling grass. When it saw him approach, it snorted.
Qing Chen swung onto its back and tugged the reins. The horse neighed, then broke into a gallop toward the tunnel.
There was only one thought in his mind: I have to find the immortal cultivation treasure that wandering martial artist spoke of before the vanguard army gets there!
The mountain path was narrow, and branches on either side scraped his arms painfully, tearing several rents in his clothes.
He ignored all of it and simply urged the horse onward. Its hooves rustled through the fallen leaves, occasionally striking stones and jolting his legs numb.
After roughly the time it took an incense stick to burn, a dense, impenetrable stretch of woodland appeared ahead. The horse could go no farther.
Without hesitation, Qing Chen killed it with a single palm strike.
Then he used his lightness skill and sped away like an agile ape.
At last, Qing Chen reached the tunnel entrance.
He drew a deep breath, then charged into the tunnel without hesitation.
At the end of the tunnel, Qing Chen saw a sliver of light.
He quickened his pace, his heart pounding violently in his chest.
He rushed out of the tunnel and returned to the rear of Northern Mang Mountain.
Upon reaching the rear of Northern Mang Mountain, he found the scene before him no different from the night before.
"Heaven really is helping me, haha. Fight even harder-the fiercer, the better!"
The corner of Qing Chen's mouth curled upward. He took a small porcelain bottle from inside his clothes. It contained the dark disguise paste he had prepared earlier.
He smeared the paste onto his face, molding it with his fingers to alter his features. Then he took a piece of coarse cloth from inside his clothes, tore it into strips, and wrapped them around his head to imitate Iron Ox's hairstyle.
Finally, he squeezed his throat and tried making a rough, hoarse voice. "Master Eagle sent me to patrol the mountain..."
His voice sounded seventy or eighty percent like Iron Ox's. Qing Chen nodded in satisfaction and ran toward the meeting hall along the trail behind the mountain.
The trail was dirt, soft beneath his feet, with occasional footprints left by bandits.
He ran swiftly but lightly, like a rabbit. The sounds of slaughter drew closer and closer, yet not a single bandit noticed him, because they had all gone to defend the front of the mountain.
Based on the information he had previously coaxed out of the two bandits, Qing Chen knew the meeting hall's location like the palm of his hand.
He took a deep breath and raced toward the meeting hall.
Meanwhile, at the foot of Northern Mang Mountain, the fighting had already reached a white-hot pitch.
The vanguard soldiers raised their shields and charged uphill step by step. Their shields bristled with arrows fired by the bandits, some with shafts bent out of shape.
One soldier had just climbed onto the stone steps when a rock hurled down by a bandit struck his shoulder. With a crack, the bone broke. He screamed as he tumbled down, landing on the men behind him.
The bandits hid behind rocks, raining arrows down from their bows.
One bandit leader was bare-chested, revealing a chest covered in scars, and held a demon-head saber.
When he saw the vanguard soldiers charge up, he severed one soldier's arm with a single slash. Blood sprayed across his face, but he grinned:
"Come on! Let's see which is tougher-your lives or my blade!"
Master Eagle, the bandit chief of Northern Mang Mountain, stood atop a huge boulder halfway up the slope, utterly baffled as he fought the vanguard army surging up from below like a tide.
According to the plan, these past few days should have involved only small-scale harassment, but the sight before him left him trembling with fear.
He stared at the vanguard army below, his mind full of questions.
Why were they suddenly fighting for their lives? What kind of act was this?
A trusted subordinate beside him leaned closer, his voice trembling. "Master Eagle, we're almost out of arrows, and the rock throwers are exhausted. If this keeps up, we won't hold out much longer!"
A burly bandit glared fiercely at him. "Master Eagle, don't worry! The men of Northern Mang Mountain aren't meek vegetarians! We'll fight them to the death. Even if we die, we'll make sure they know we're not such an easy bone to gnaw!"
Another bandit looked somewhat nervous. "Master Eagle, I think something's wrong here. Did something happen down the mountain?"
Master Eagle nodded. He felt that this bandit had a point.
His voice was somewhat hoarse. "Send two quick-witted men down around the back of the mountain to find out what exactly is going on with the city lord! Is he trying to rob his fellow crooks?"
The trusted subordinate nodded and was about to leave when Master Eagle called him back. "Wait. Tell them to be careful and not let the vanguard army spot them. Also, tell Iron Ox to keep a close watch on Young Master Zhao. Nothing can go wrong!"
He did not know why the vanguard army had become so frenzied, much less what had gone awry with the plan.
There was no time to think further. He could only send every trusted bandit he had kept in reserve to the mountain's defensible points to hold off the vanguard army.
Otherwise, against such a ferocious assault, they would not even last until nightfall unless they committed their full strength.
He did not know that Iron Ox had long since become shattered bones beneath the northern cliff.
And the false "Iron Ox" was now walking briskly along the trail toward the meeting hall.
Qing Chen drew closer and closer to the meeting hall. He could see the wooden building, with Northern Mang Mountain's flag planted on its roof.