Chapter Eight: The Hunt

The world is ever-changing, and many situations occur that even Uncle Bai Li Shuyi could not have anticipated. The original plan was to assemble the team within half an hour, but they had barely settled down—Kan Gan had not yet finished positioning all the crossbowmen—when the distant barking of hounds and the heart-wrenching cries of agony echoed across the land.

The hunters used as bait had been discovered by the guard dogs!

“Scout. Report the situation.” Bai Li Shuyi calmly issued his command. At his word, two hunters immediately selected different trees and swiftly climbed to the canopies. In moments, they could report back:

“Report! Two of the dispatched hunters are dead. One remains and is fleeing back—he is safe for the moment. The dogs pursuing at his heels are nearly… nearly…”

“There are fewer than ten in the front, and about fifteen more thirty paces behind,” the second man quickly supplemented, seeing the first could not count the exact number. “Altogether, about fifteen.”

As the sharp-eyed warriors wondered if Bai Li Shuyi would order a rescue, his next command rang out: “No rescue! Men, be ready. At my signal, use arrows to paralyze the beasts. Then, shields forward thirty paces. After thirty paces, switch to blades. Kill any beasts not felled by arrows!”

“Furthermore, Qi Jian, wield the red-fletched arrows at my side. If I make a selection, mark it with a red arrow. No one is to slay my marked target without my order. Any mistake will be punished with thirty lashes according to guild law!”

“Yes, sir,” came the muted response. The men quickly grabbed their bows and crossbows, making ready for the oncoming clash.

The fleeing hunter moved with great speed, and the dogs, too, were swift. In the briefest of moments, across less than a mile, the hunter appeared at the edge of the ambush, darting through the center as planned.

These bait hunters were all slaves; failure meant death for them. Though the dogs were nearly upon them, they dared not deviate, but ran on as ordered, drawing the beasts into the trap.

A sudden snarl—one of the dogs chasing the second hunter leaped onto a fallen tree, shot up the trunk, and launched itself at the last hunter!

A heavy thud—caught by the beast, the hunter was hurled forward, crashing into the ground. The pursuing dogs pounced, fighting over the kill, tearing the man to pieces in a frenzy.

The warriors were accustomed to such scenes and remained unmoved, only tightening their grip on their weapons and waiting at the ready.

Bai Li Shuyi narrowed his eyes. He could not judge whether the dogs would continue to pursue. If they delayed too long, the gathered scent of so many men might be noticed. He raised his hand slightly, and at nearly the same instant, Qi Jian nocked a long arrow.

Fortunately, Bai Li Shuyi’s worry was unfounded. When the next pack of dogs arrived, the hunters were already gone, their remains devoured by the lead pack. The mingled scent of blood and hunger drove the newcomers into a frenzy—they charged forward with desperate speed.

Bai Li Shuyi’s hand fell like a sword cutting the air.

“Wind! Wind! Wind!” Qi Jian leaped up, his voice thundering across the mountain slopes. All around the ambush, the call was echoed—wind, wind! The archers sprang up, unleashing a storm of arrows into the trap, striking the beasts in droves.

The dogs howled and scattered, hurling themselves at the company’s soldiers. Some, pierced by three or four arrows, staggered but bared their fangs and continued to hurl themselves at the enemy.

The strength and ferocity of these beasts was beyond Bai Li Shuyi’s estimation. He quickly decided not to wait for a second volley but to move in for the kill, even if it meant fewer captures—better that than needless casualties.

It wasn’t sentimentality; losses among the soldiers could not easily be replaced in the mountains, and every life counted.

“Mountain! Fire!—Mountain! Fire!” came the next command, as many archers reached for their second arrows, not yet drawn. The shouts spread, near to far.

“Mountain!” The shield-bearers in front responded, stepping forward to guard the archers, who quickly retreated behind them. Swordsmen and scouts filled the ranks, crying “Fire!”

“Mountain, mountain, mountain—”

“Fire, mountain, fire, fire, fire—”

The calls spread down the line. Shield-bearers and swordsmen replaced the archers at the front, but as per the original order, they waited for the archers to finish before advancing. Even before the echoing calls died away, a third command followed:

“Assault like fire! Assault like fire!”

Bows and crossbows were the wind, shields the mountain, blades the fire, spears the forest, strategists the unknown, cavalry the thunder. These six terms, inherited from the era of legends, summarized all military orders, and the Sky Steed Guild used them for command.

When the order was called, the soldiers moved as one; officers commanded, and the men replied. “Assault like fire” ordered the swordsmen forward.

“Assault like fire! Assault like fire! Assault like fire!” went the cries.

The swordsmen and scouts surged into action, charging forth, while the shields divided the dogs into smaller clusters, quickly slaughtered by the swordsmen.

Kan Gan plunged into the fray, wielding a sword in each hand, intercepting the rear of the pack—those dogs that had just finished devouring the hunters now joined the fight.

“Stand fast! Still as the mountain!” he ordered, choosing defense for the moment—shields to delay, waiting for the tide to turn before counterattacking.

In moments, the hilltop was awash in blood, both sides fighting with red eyes.

The struggle was fierce. Though traps had been laid and numbers favored them, and a first volley of arrows had felled many dogs, the battle was not one-sided. Where the arrows had struck, few men were injured, and none fatally. But where Kan Gan intercepted the pack, the cost was grim—two shields shattered, three or four men down, and several more badly wounded.

“Gentlemen, hold nothing back. Aid Kan Gan!” Bai Li Shuyi, seeing the danger, quickly called on Gongyang Cuo and Yi Bao for help.

The two did not hesitate. Yi Bao, with a flourish of his sleeves, drew his longsword and tossed it into the air. With his right hand, he gestured to the sky; with his left, he formed a seal and cried, “Divine Sword, obey my command!”

At his word, the sword sprang to life, streaking through the air under his control, and shot toward the beasts, arriving in the blink of an eye.

This was Yi Bao’s flying sword technique—a lethal art within several paces, able to take heads as easily as plucking fruit.

Alas, their opponents were not human, but demon beasts—and demon beasts of Meishan no less!

The flying sword pierced one hound, sending it tumbling in a spray of blood, mortally wounded. Yet, when a warrior moved in to finish it, the beast leaped up and tore off half his head before collapsing in spasms.

Even a direct sword strike could not kill it outright!

The sword struck again, but the next dog was wiser—it turned and fled, forcing Yi Bao to switch targets.

The sword darted and weaved, injuring several beasts, but these were only minor demon beasts. The one that had reached the core stage, though harried and battered, was not struck even once.

Nonetheless, the pressure on Kan Gan and his men was relieved. They re-formed the shield wall, splitting the pack into smaller groups, and casualties ceased.

A lightning-fast black shadow flashed before their eyes. The core demon hound, fleeing, let out a pitiful howl, crashed to the ground, and exploded in a spray of blood—its forelimbs and chest blown open, heart and lungs destroyed.

The beast fell beside another hound, startling it into a leap. As it landed, another black shadow fell from the sky—a second beast burst into a mass of flesh, dead before it could cry out.

“Well done!” Kan Gan shouted, raising the spirits of the shield wall.

Gongyang Cuo had outdone Yi Bao, using his own crafted Five Elements Stones—formidable magical weapons. With their power, the tide was turned in moments.

The Five Elements Stones were powerful but consumable; each use depleted his limited stock. Even Gongyang Cuo had only a dozen or so, kept for facing greater threats. Using them here on mere hounds was a costly extravagance.

Moreover, activating the stones drained his own energy; at most, he could use three or five at a time before risking harm to himself.

But the warriors knew none of this. Seeing him cut down beasts with ease, they cheered all the louder.

“Kill!” Kan Gan’s order rang out, and the company surged forward, the hill resounding with the crash of flesh and bone, the howls of the dying.

With Gongyang Cuo and Yi Bao’s help, the battle ended quickly. The entire pack was annihilated; seven beasts survived, two crippled, the rest slaughtered, their bodies gathered.

On the guild’s side, six were dead, four badly wounded, and dozens more lightly injured.

Twenty-four hounds caught, seven taken alive—a capture rate of nearly thirty-five percent, far above the norm, and with relatively few casualties. Yet for the two cultivators, unease lingered in their hearts.

Bai Li Shuyi, by contrast, appeared in good spirits. Losses were well below his expectations. He calmly directed the aftermath—searching the dens, tending the wounded, burying the dead, and washing away the blood.

In the end, Kan Gan’s men brought back six pups from the dens, along with the bodies of two mother hounds, and the number of severely wounded increased by one.

All told, it was a triumphant beginning.

“Song of the Battlefield”

Clouds shroud the earth, night veils the sky,
Bones and blood whirl in the moon’s red light.
Arrows like rain, the wind mourns and howls,
For fame and fortune, we ride to claim our fiefs.
A thousand homes destroyed, ten thousand pursued,
Winter takes the fathers, spring sees the sons beheaded.
Sword in hand, I revel on the battlefield;
But do I still remember the dreams of the past?