Chapter 51 Counter-Kill

It was another cool autumn morning.

In the dense forest outside the city of Lusheng in Tongren Prefecture, the air was exceptionally fresh. The evergreen trees absorbed dust and other harmful particles from the atmosphere.

The only flaw was that as the dawn broke, a torrential downpour suddenly lashed down from the sky.

Tian Shenwei’s brows furrowed deeply into a sharp crease, his eyes radiating a profound and burning anger.

He had naturally realized by now that his opponents had been fully prepared, and the so-called intelligence he had obtained was most likely deliberately leaked by them.

Yet what baffled him was that there were genuinely no hidden reinforcements waiting in ambush; this meant the enemy had decided to wipe out their entire force of two hundred men using just two people.

Where on earth did this Yun Zheng get such audacity?

After a whole day of bloody combat, however, dozens of mutilated corpses were already scattered across the forest.

Among the Twelve Rocs of the Yin Mountains, Tian Shenwei had brought five: Tianpeng, Zhipeng, Nupeng, Jinpeng, and Cangpeng. Yet in yesterday’s fierce battles, Cangpeng and Tianpeng had both been left dead on the ground.

It should be noted here that the "Yin Mountains" of the Twelve Rocs were naturally not the famous Yin Mountains past which "no Tartar horses are allowed to cross."

Rather, the Tian family believed that the mountain where the Tian Family Fortress stood was no different from the netherworld of the underworld, hence it could be called the Yin Mountains. Any living person daring to make an enemy of the Tian family had already stepped foot into the nether realm!

Even though Guizhou's jungles were mostly thick with branches and leaves, the leaking rainwater still drenched the Tian family's assassins to the bone. With no other choice, they had to hoist bamboo umbrellas.

Going a night without sleep was no easy feat for ordinary pugilists.

Therefore, those who persisted in searching throughout the night were only a few, including Tian Shenwei.

"Could that couple of scoundrels have already skipped town?" Jinpeng asked. "Master Tian, perhaps we should rest for a bit instead..."

"This forest is enclosed by cliffs on three sides; they have no wings to fly away. There was a bright moon last night; had they attempted to escape by rock-climbing, we would have spotted them long ago," Tian Shenwei analyzed.

Jinpeng wanted to speak further, but suddenly, with a resounding crash, a thick, ancient Chinese locust tree was abruptly severed at the waist. Swaying unsteadily, it came smashing down into the woodland with a thunderous boom, directly pinning a Tian family assassin beneath it, breaking his leg and leaving him moaning in agony.

At that exact moment, Tian Shenwei saw a flash of peerlessly fierce blade-light erupt from within the trunk.

"Well met!"

Tian Shenwei gnashed his teeth, his ghost-blade slashing away the cascading rain threads as he met the brilliance of the Seven-Star Treasured Saber.

Yet the blade's glare shifted at the narrowest of fractions of a second, reversing its cut toward Jinpeng.

Jinpeng let out a miserable shriek, his windpipe severed halfway through his cry. The treasured saber stopped sinking once it struck his cervical vertebrae, only to pivot once more, cleaving two other Tian family assassins cleanly into two halves.

This was the Triple Slash taught to Yun Zheng by his mentor, the renowned Ming dynasty commander Zhu Xieyuan. The treasured saber changed its direction of attack three consecutive times, all with sharp angles, executing a triple-chained kill without a single trace of sluggishness.

Due to the eastward dissemination of Western learning, this move also incorporated Western enchantment arts. The Seven-Star Treasured Saber was itself an enchanted blade; once the "Triple Slash" was unleashed, astral magic flowed through it, allowing it to easily slice through defenses like shields of holy light as if tearing rotten silk. As long as the blade's radiance struck flesh, even if it wasn't fatal, it carried a high probability of plunging the enemy into a brief state of rigidity.

Zhu Xieyuan had once sparred with several visiting Japanese fencing masters. While those men endlessly praised Fusang's Iaijutsu and double-strength momentum, Zhu Xieyuan took them all on by himself. With a single slash, he broke their swords, grazed the skin at their throats, and finally stacked the paralyzed fencing masters up like firewood.

Knowing that they would have been killed instantly had Lord Zhu not shown mercy, the fencing masters bowed deeply in profound shame and fled.

Tricked by Yun Zheng's feint, Tian Shenwei not only lost Jinpeng, but out of the corner of his eye, he also glimpsed the afterimages of Emei piercers. In the blink of an eye, several elite members of the Tian family fell dead upon the sound, their blood immediately swallowed by the rushing, torrential rainwater.

Hesitating for less than a split second, Tian Shenwei gathered his breath deep in his dantian and then hurtled away at top speed.

This was also the most rational judgment of an experienced assassin.

Yun Zheng let out a breath; the physical exertion consumed by the Triple Slash in such a short span of time was indeed considerable. He waved his hand, signaling to An Miaotong.

"No need to pursue them. The denser the grass, the easier it is to mow."

An Miaotong had already drawn both of her piercers, casually executing the two Tian family pugilists left behind by Tian Shenwei simultaneously. Because their leader had abruptly abandoned them and they had completely lost their will to fight, they perished on the spot without putting up any resistance.

"So, we should head toward the stream?"

She wiped the rainwater from her hair, her pure and striking features carrying a subtle, seductive allure.

Between the dense forest and the vast expanse of farmland on the edge of Lusheng County, there was a clear, small stream. On the sandy bank of the stream facing the forest, there was a relatively spacious clearing.

Yun Zheng knew An Miaotong had resumed her usual role of buttering him up.

Because her judgment was entirely correct, requiring no further validation from Yun Zheng.

"Of course."

Yun Zheng pulled out a folded paper umbrella and handed it to An Miaotong. She was momentarily stunned, but still propped the paper umbrella open.

As for himself, everyone in the military camp knew that Deputy Commander Yun almost never used an umbrella. Leaving aside the fact that a full set of armor on the battlefield could double as rainwear, he didn't care about getting wet; the downpour could not possibly cause any harm to his physique, and it even kept his mind sharp.

The rainstorm came fast and went fast, so the umbrella didn't need to serve its purpose for long.

However, once the heavy rain stopped, a thick morning fog quickly blanketed the woodland, resembling flowing milk.

Yun Zheng explained, "After the rain, the ground heat dissipates and the temperature drops. When the air cools to a certain point, a portion of the water vapor in the air condenses into tiny water droplets, suspending themselves in the air layer close to the ground. If there is no wind in the mountains, these suspended small water droplets cannot easily disperse, thus forming fog."

"Is this also a principle from that other world?" An Miaotong asked.

"Indeed," Yun Zheng nodded. "Since Heavenly King Ye can manufacture things like matches and silver mirrors, he should understand this aspect better than I do."

"Such heavy fog must be related to the enclosed terrain surrounded by mountains on three sides, right?" An Miaotong had always been perceptive.

Yun Zheng was about to reply, but his exceptional eyesight pierced through the fog, bringing rows of tents on the stream's sandy bank into his view.

Since this was the only large clearing here, the assassins of the Tian Family Fortress had no other choice but to camp here.

The fog was somewhat heavy, but Yun Zheng could still clearly make out the silhouettes of the sentries on duty.

An Miaotong retrieved a small shovel, bent her posture, and began digging into the earth soundlessly.

The explosive roar of a gunshot rang out. The Tian family sentry on duty didn't even have time to utter a sound before his head was blown away, leaving a headless corpse standing faithfully at its post, unyielding and upright.

What a pity that there were no silenced pistols available—Yun Zheng thought to himself.

"Who's there!"

An angry, startled cry echoed from one of the tents.

At that very moment, however, a round, stone-like object that An Miaotong had somehow already grasped in her hand was flung outward. Following a burning fuse, it slammed onto the roof of that tent, collapsing it on the spot. A violent explosion instantly tore the tent to shreds, and sharp stone fragments blasted outward amidst the shockwave.

Nupeng, the most alert among the Twelve Rocs of the Yin Mountains, had been the first to be jolted awake. Just as he let out a furious roar, An Miaotong's thrown stone-grenade accurately struck his tent.

During yesterday's skirmishes, Yun Zheng and An Miaotong had already memorized his voice.

The so-called stone-grenade could be understood as a Ming dynasty version of a hand grenade.

As for where the stone-grenades came from? It was simple: knowing that a torrential downpour and fog would arrive this morning, and that the enemy would inevitably camp by the stream, Yun Zheng had long ago used waterproof boxes to bury the stone-grenades that were inconvenient to carry on their persons nearby.

After the gunpowder smoke settled, Nupeng dragged a blown-off leg, limping out while cursing foully.

However, An Miaotong had already transformed into a whirlwind of afterimages, charging into the campsite. With a sweep of her Emei piercers, her "Shadow Slash" was unleashed, instantly piercing Nupeng's chest for a fatal blow.

Having been heavily wounded by the explosion and ambushed abruptly, Nupeng was given no chance to resist.

Of the five members of the Twelve Rocs of the Yin Mountains that Tian Shenwei had brought, four were now dead.

When Yun Zheng tossed the heads of Jinpeng, Cangpeng, and Tianpeng into the center of the camp, all those who had been jolted awake realized this fact.

The Tian Family Fortress did not have the habit of collecting the remains of their own fallen comrades in a timely manner—this was quite normal, as most assassination organizations left such tasks until after the matter was resolved.

Consequently, along the way, Yun Zheng and An Miaotong had simply located Cangpeng and Tianpeng, whom they had slain the day before, and hacked off their heads as well.

A few more stone-grenades rained down consecutively into the camp, kicking up a flurry of screams. While they might not have caused casualties with every single blast, they thoroughly shook the morale of the assassins who had just woken up.

"What a pity that coward Tian Shenwei fled right before the battle. When I caught up to him, I accidentally landed a few extra blows and minced his brains right into paste," Yun Zheng muttered, stroking the spine of the Seven-Star Treasured Saber.

Tian Shenwei had fled in a different direction; to loop back, he had to take a detour.

Therefore, it was impossible for him to arrive at the Tian assassins' camp earlier than Yun Zheng and An Miaotong.

With four of the five Rocs gone, the Tian family assassins lost their nerve and wits, becoming all the more inclined to believe Yun Zheng's words.

Once hearts were scattered, men became impossible to lead.

There was still Zhipeng left in the camp, along with over a hundred assassins. If they swarmed forward on the open ground, Yun Zheng and An Miaotong would stand no chance against them.

Yet Commander Qi Jiguang had stated long ago: when it came to manipulating human psychology, where could these back-alley assassins ever compare to a regular army?

Thus, the camp erupted like a poked hornets' nest. The assassins began scattering in all directions toward the flat rice paddies, scurrying like rats darting through holes and slippery like loaches.

Only Zhipeng remained standing in the center of the camp, roaring furiously as he tried to halt the assassins' rout.

To be frank, such a rout was actually quite common in an army whose morale had collapsed and whose organizational discipline had dissolved.

There was no reason to expect a band of back-alley assassins to possess loyalty and bravery surpassing a real military force. That belonged in novels, not reality.

Consequently, Yun Zheng and An Miaotong charged straight in, fighting two-on-one. Zhipeng managed to parry barely five moves before his head was lopped off.

For him, this could already be considered an extraordinary performance.

"Trying to wipe out two hundred men with just two people is still no easy task," Yun Zheng lamented. "If Ninglu were here, we probably could have killed a few more."

As mentioned previously, Ninglu was precisely the pet name of Ye Xi.

Ye Xi's archery could snipe enemies from afar, and her efficiency in slaughtering fleeing foes was even faster than his flintlock rifle.

The thick fog had also hindered Yun Zheng's aim, meaning that even when the assassins turned the backs of their heads toward him, headshots were not guaranteed to succeed.

Now, after leaving behind over twenty corpses, the assassins in the camp had fled completely. All Yun Zheng and An Miaotong had to do was wait here for Tian Shenwei to deliver himself to their doorstep.

Naturally, Tian Shenwei could never have anticipated that his camp would completely collapse in the blink of an eye, so he certainly wouldn't have fled by climbing cliffs; thus, this place was the woodland's only exit.