Chapter 27: To Slay One Is Courage, To Slay Hundreds Is Divine

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“General, the enemy reinforcements have arrived!”

“What? Reinforcements? How is that possible?” Deng Li’s brow furrowed instantly.

He had calculated the time it would take Chu Feng’s soldiers to arrive from the barracks—it should be at least another fifteen minutes before they reached. Yet before he could press for more details, a chorus of agonized screams rose from behind, confirming the arrival of the reinforcements, and at a speed that was alarmingly swift.

“Hmph, they’re nothing but a disorderly rabble!” Deng Li snorted coldly. He truly didn’t take these men seriously and immediately dispatched several dozen deathsworn to eliminate the reinforcements, while he himself turned his efforts to killing Chu Feng.

Several squad leaders, brandishing short blades and leading their men, charged forward recklessly. Yet what awaited them was only death.

Within moments of breaking through, the two sides met. Seeing only a dozen or so opposing them, the squad leaders’ eyes flashed with savagery. Raising their blades, they roared, “Leave none alive!”

Behind them, dozens surged forward with blades drawn.

Zhao Fan glanced at the two sergeants. The dozen men coordinated seamlessly, displaying the full extent of Chu Feng’s training—advance, suppress, cover.

Several men darted forward to optimal positions, while the crossbowmen responsible for suppression and covering fire continuously cocked and fired, felling their enemies in waves.

And then another wave fell!

“These crossbows can fire repeatedly?” someone cried out in shock.

But Zhao Fan gave them no chance to react; the crossbows fired in relentless volleys, and in the blink of an eye, nearly half the attackers lay dead. As the bolts were depleted, they began to reload the wooden magazines.

Seeing this, the deathsworn charged forward in a frenzy.

But those who had previously advanced unleashed another round of concentrated fire, covering their comrades. In mere moments, nearly all of the dozens were slain; the few survivors fled in terror.

Zhao Fan listened to the sounds of battle within the residence, his gaze icy. With a wave of his left arm, a five-man squad vaulted onto the roof from the left, tasked with comprehensive suppression and covering fire.

As for Zhao Fan himself, he led the remaining men in a direct assault, moving with remarkable speed, fearing for Chu Feng’s safety.

Meanwhile, on the frontline—

Chu Feng’s muscles had grown stiff, and his strikes with the halberd had slowed considerably. Yet he had already slain more than a hundred foes, their broken bodies strewn about, blood flowing in rivers.

He himself was clothed in armor turned dark red, splattered with flesh, resembling a demon god drenched in blood, slaughtering all before him.

Had it been ordinary soldiers, they would have scattered in terror by now. This was the true terror of deathsworn.

But the one most anxious at this moment was Deng Li. He had arrived with two or three hundred men; now less than half remained, and the vast majority had fallen to Chu Feng’s hand.

It was terrifying—enough to chill the soul.

At that moment, the men sent to deal with the reinforcements returned, faces stricken with fear. “General, the enemy is armed with repeating crossbows. We can’t hold them—”

“Useless!” Deng Li snapped. “How many reinforcements?”

“Ten—a little over ten men!”

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“Damn it, just a dozen men did this to you?” Deng Li was furious.

Yet before the words had left his mouth, two of his defending deathsworn were struck down by arrows.

A sharp whistle sounded. On the eaves, the five-man covering squad rose and began picking off enemy crossbowmen with precise shots—each shot found its mark, and the enemy’s ranged support was swiftly eliminated.

For a moment, the firepower and marksmanship of the five-man squad seemed to multiply their numbers. As Deng Li tried to rally his men for a counterattack, Zhao Fan drew his sword and charged in from the entrance.

Behind him, his men provided covering fire with crossbows.

In just a moment, several more enemies fell.

Zhao Fan plunged into the enemy ranks, his blade a whirlwind, cutting down foes in quick succession. With coordinated support from the roof and from behind, their ranks dwindled with alarming speed.

“Lord, are you all right?” Zhao Fan called anxiously after felling another adversary.

“I’m fine!” Chu Feng replied.

On the field, even these deathsworn, fearless as they were, had been driven to terror by the organized volleys of arrows. They began to shrink back.

From the original hundred or so, only a few dozen remained. Deng Li looked at the still-frenzied Chu Feng and the disciplined armored soldiers. He knew the situation was hopeless.

“Retreat! Retreat!” Deng Li shouted, leading his men toward the entry guarded by a handful of soldiers.

He had underestimated Chu Feng, and the soldiers Chu Feng had trained—for such a small skirmish, these men were overwhelming.

Their actions were coordinated and swift.

As Deng Li attempted to escape, two from the five-man squad fell back to the wall, while the other three unleashed another suppressing volley, then retreated in relay, climbing the wall and continuing their barrage.

“Come and go as you please?” Chu Feng bellowed in rage, hurling his great halberd, narrowly missing Deng Li’s heart. The two deathsworn beside Deng Li were not so lucky.

But the deathsworn were well-trained and, leaving more than a dozen bodies behind, managed to break through.

Only, just as Deng Li exited the residence, he ran headlong into two squads. A volley of arrows rained down, leaving more corpses in his wake.

“After them—don’t let a single one escape!” Chu Feng, dragging his great halberd and drenched in blood, strode out of the residence. Seeing the deathsworn fleeing like beaten dogs, his eyes blazed with killing intent and his voice rasped with fury.

Immediately, the remaining soldiers gave chase.

Though the deathsworn were well-trained, Chu Feng’s men were all highly skilled. To fulfill Chu Feng’s orders, they split up to pursue the fleeing enemies, matching their dispersal with their own.

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Zhao Fan took a deep breath and looked at Chu Feng, filled only with shock and admiration, for the blood in the rear courtyard ran like rain, and the corpses were piled like small hills.

All by Chu Feng’s hand alone.

If slaying a single man is to be called valor, then slaughtering a hundred must be divinity.

“Zhao Fan, until everything is settled, seal off all information. Also, take men to put out the fires—we don’t want to draw more attention,” Chu Feng said in a low voice.

If not for his concern for Daqiao’s safety, he would have personally hunted down the fleeing deathsworn.

“Yes, sir!” Zhao Fan nodded.

Having given his orders, Chu Feng led his men to search every corner of the courtyard before finally breathing a sigh of relief.

“H-husband…”

Only when the sounds of battle had faded did Daqiao emerge. She was stunned by the scene before her.

Chu Feng stood with his hair disheveled, one hand resting on his sword, his entire being soaked in blood, yet he smiled at her gently.

In that instant, her beautiful eyes reddened.

Without a thought for the blood and gore on Chu Feng’s armor, she rushed into his arms like a flower in the rain. Tears streamed down her face as her delicate fingers wiped at his cheek, her heart wracked with pain.

“It’s all right—it’s just other people’s blood,” Chu Feng said with a smile, lifting his weary arm and gently wiping Daqiao’s face with his dark, blood-stained hand.

But no matter how he tried to reassure her, Daqiao could not stop her tears. Her eyes were swollen red with crying, evoking nothing but pity.

Helpless, Chu Feng slowly removed his battered armor.

His breastplate had been dented in several places, and one blade had even pierced it, only to be stopped by the inner protective vest. His vital areas were all well-armored and unharmed, but his arms bore several bloody gashes.

At the sight of the torn flesh, Daqiao’s sobs grew heavier, her body trembling. Chu Feng only smiled again: “It’s nothing, just flesh wounds. They’ll clean up and heal with some bandages and medicine.”

“Don’t say it’s nothing—you can almost see the bone!” Daqiao sobbed, but even as she wept, she hurried off to fetch clean cloth and herbs, calling out as she went. The sight of her made Chu Feng want to laugh, though he felt far more heartache than amusement.

At last, inside the room, Daqiao carefully cleaned and dressed Chu Feng’s wounds, applied herbal poultices, and insisted he rest in bed. With no other choice, Chu Feng soon drifted into sleep.