Chapter 86: The Bounty Hunters' Plan

The enemy army marched slowly, while the bounty hunters grew worried.

They didn't want to follow the main force's pace, or rather, they didn't want to risk their lives.

After the last experience, they knew clearly that those guys were not to be provoked, and the sword‑wielding adventurer was even more untouchable; they had already witnessed the terror of that adventurer.

Around the table, the various bounty hunters' leaders, big and small, gathered to discuss the Prince's letter.

This time, all the bounty hunters' heads, great and small, assembled in one place solely to discuss this matter.

They were all extremely puzzled; normally, a cooperative task would be handled just by a letter or sending someone over to explain, but this time all the heads were summoned, leaving them with lingering doubts.

They sat opposite each other at the table, looking at one another with puzzled eyes.

When the Chief Head finally arrived, he pulled out a chair and slowly drew an envelope from his coat.

The signature on it was that of the Prince of Li Kingdom!

All the leaders instantly understood; they had guessed the reason the Highest Head had gathered them all.

The Highest Head placed the Prince's letter on the table, and they passed it around one by one.

Until everyone finished reading, they sat in silence.

"Everyone has read the Prince's letter, right? You all know that the opponent's leader this time is an adventurer," the Chief Head said, breaking the stalemate.

Those below could no longer sit still; they wanted to speak but were afraid of something, so they could only emit soft coughs.

"This is a huge deal, but the danger is higher than before; I know that. I also know your grievances, but this is a rare big opportunity—this single deal is far larger than all previous ones combined!" the leader said.

At that moment, the people below instantly had greedy green glints in their eyes.

"Is that true?" a subordinate leader asked.

"Hmm," the Chief Head nodded, then went into another room, took out a wooden chest, and upon opening it, gold, jewels, jade—everything imaginable—shone brightly.

Everyone who saw the treasure in the chest was moved; their eyes fixed on the wooden box, fearing it might vanish the next second.

"This is only a small portion," the Chief Head said with a smile upon seeing the subordinates' reactions.

"Only a small portion? No joke?" the crowd widened their eyes and said in unison.

"Yes," the Chief Head nodded, continuing, "This is just a tiny part of that wealth; the whole, I estimate, could be about half a country's worth!"

"Then what about us...?" the person began, but the Chief Head cut him off.

"No, no, no, we can't sacrifice our lives; we're only here to assist the army, no need to die," the Chief Head laughed, continuing, "We just need to do it this way..."

As the Chief Head spoke, the subordinates widened their eyes, and once he finished, everyone burst into applause.

Then they all raised their thumbs and shouted, "Chief Head, brilliant scheme!"

At this moment, in Wangzi Gongdian, the Prince was slowly processing the battle reports from the front lines, reviewing them one by one, then issuing the next strategic orders.

Yang Xin had long been standing before the Prince, awaiting his next plan while scheming about his own matters.

"Yang Xin, you also have a foreign artifact, right?" the Prince asked, after finishing the reports, raising his head toward Yang Xin as he ordered a soldier to bring it down.

"Yes, it's a weapon from the Lilliputian Kingdom, but its power isn't as great as Feng Yan's; it can only be used for assassination and ambush," Yang Xin replied.

"And it doesn't have a special arrowhead, right?" the Prince smiled.

Yang Xin widened his eyes, looking at the Prince with confusion, and asked, "Your Highness, what do you mean by a special arrowhead?"

The Prince smiled and continued, "Our continent has fractured into separate nations; each nation's strongest weapon differs, and each also has its own unique characteristic—its national traits."

After speaking, the Prince went to his private chambers, gestured for Yang Xin to wait, then produced a golden arrow.

The arrow seemed ordinary, except its fletching was made of metal instead of animal feathers, giving it an alloy‑like appearance.

"This was a gift from my father years ago; legend says this arrow cannot be launched from any bow or crossbow. I didn't believe it at first, so I had people bring many bows and crossbows, but none could fire it—either the string snapped or the weapon was destroyed upon drawing. Yet now, this arrow seems just right for you," the Prince said as he handed the arrow to Yang Xin.

Yang Xin took the arrow and, without realizing, placed it into the crossbow.

The Prince watched Yang Xin's action; a soldier moved to stop him, but the Prince gave a signal indicating no need to intervene.

Yang Xin loaded the arrow, aimed at the hanging target outside, and just as he was about to fire, he removed the arrow.

"What? Not going to try?" the Prince asked.

"No need," Yang Xin said, putting down the crossbow, then turned and left.

The Prince watched Yang Xin walk away, while mentally calculating the timing for the soldiers to advance into the Golden Wutong Forest; for the Prince, this was a major matter and a chance to eliminate four adventurers.

"You all, don't disappoint me," Yang Xin turned with a smile, then continued walking, slowly leaving the Prince's palace.

At this moment, at high noon, the Prince sat in his palace as a maid fanned him and another fed him watermelon; the Prince closed his eyes, savoring the midday.

A cool breeze blew, and the Prince's closed eyes slowly opened; he squinted and, with pleasure, said, "What a refreshing breeze—may the soldiers be like this wind and bring victorious news to me."

The soldiers reached the Golden Wutong Forest; though not far, it still took them a considerable time. The corpses from earlier battles had long rotted, and the air reeked with a nauseating stench that made the soldiers vomit. The commander could do nothing but slow the march.

Thus, after hurrying and lagging, they finally arrived at the forest's center around noon, spotting a small stream ahead, and the entire army rejoiced!

The soldiers suddenly found renewed vigor and sprinted forward, but the sight before them deepened their disappointment.

It was indeed a stream, but the water flowing within was dark red.

Disappointed, the soldiers lowered their heads and then saw several Dwarves' stone statues.

The commander shouted profanities, then rushed to the statues, knocked them into the stream, and stomped on them.

"What the heck? You made me waste my joy!" the commander said angrily, then bent over, splashing water in the stream to wash his hands.

"What? Treating others as slaves and now destroying their statues—you've gone too far!" a voice shouted.

"Who? Come out!" the commander raised his head, but could not locate the speaker, turning his gaze toward the soldiers.

The commander scanned the area where the voice seemed to originate, yet he never found its source.

"Get out, before I kill my own countrymen!" the voice sounded again!

"Only daring to hide in the shadows—what are you, some kind of thing?" the commander realized he could not lose authority among his troops and had to act.

The surroundings fell silent; the birds' earlier calls vanished, and a death‑like hush settled.

The commander raised both hands, swallowed, his face turning pale, while a cold‑glinting sword pointed at his throat.

"I need only a light slash, and your life will be settled," Jin Meng said coldly, gripping the sword.

The soldiers were startled by the sudden silence; before they could come to their senses, oh, their commander already had a sword pointed at his neck.

"Withdraw your troops, or everyone here will die—you should know Feng Yan's combat prowess!" Jin Meng said coldly.

"Withdraw!" the commander shouted loudly.

"But..." a soldier hadn't finished speaking when the commander cut him off.

"Withdraw!" the commander shouted again.

The soldiers withdrew in succession; the commander broke into a sweat, and after seeing the soldiers withdraw in succession, Jin Meng lowered the sword in his hand.