Chapter 220

Rui Ka gently patted the yellow oriole, stroking it for a good while before finally closing his helmet and reluctantly leaving.

Lang Nü's guard cavalry numbered 232 in total; after excluding those obviously too young, only 130 were needed to follow her on this night raid. His age might still be a bit lacking, but his build looked sufficient—at least he appeared more like an adult man than those short narrow-marsh people.

He thought the ambush would wait until the coldest part of the day to begin, but he didn't expect that when the sunlight descended the hill and the last sliver of residual light just disappeared from the horizon, Lang Nü began her action.

He tightly wrapped his outer cloak, completely concealing the armor inside. He placed his sword and knife snugly against his side, so he could draw them at any moment to slit an enemy's throat.

He had not received a clear assignment. He did not need to charge forward, lifting the anti-cavalry barriers—that was for a few big guys; nor did he need to carry bows and arrows to deal with the enemy patrols on the palisades—that was the work of the narrow-marsh folk, the mountain clans, and the Geluofuo people.

He only needed to bring his sword, cut down every enemy he saw before him to the ground, and beforehand he only needed to stay quiet, making as little noise as possible.

Even before they set out biting their furs in the wind, Lord Mersen Seifin's cavalry had already quietly approached the slope, and Huban had already picked a squad from the infantry, forming ranks in the cold wind, motionless, awaiting action.

Lang Nü, in the torchlight, gave them a final inspection, then took an oil-soaked dry torch from beside the fire and moved forward.

The others each took one in turn.

Just over a hundred people. Everyone could stay quiet, but whether climbing the slope or walking, they would make some noise; he simply didn't believe they could approach the enemy unnoticed……

This question didn't need him to think about it either; since Lang Nü had decided and personally carried it out, she wouldn't allow him to doubt—was he really going to say it simply wouldn't work?

She has magic, she's a shapeshifter, there's always a way, right?

Even if you gave him ten thousand courages, he still wouldn't dare say it out loud; the other youths who admired Lang Nü were enough to make him shut up.

These stupid little brats!

He also hadn't seen Maomao Gou; that would have been the best tool for raiding the camp.

That ice plains wolf was black as a coal ball, a black shadow, always far from the main force; moreover, now there's no sunlight, no moonlight, it didn't howl as it used to in Winterfell—back then Winterfell was called the Wolf's Howl Fort by the surrounding folk—even if it stood before you, you couldn't see it clearly unless it bared its fangs, but by then you'd probably have gone weak-legged from fright.

Monster.

He hoped Lang Nü hadn't forgotten to deploy it; at least he placed great hopes on that black ice plains wolf.

Time flew by too fast; his brother Holan Pu once, when returning from the castle to the manor, told him these little wolves' stories. He envied the good fortune of the Winterfell children and Lord Eddard Stark's tolerance—if his father had picked up a wolf pup, that very night they could have eaten roasted wolf cub instead of becoming the wolf's master, after all the Pu family's crest is not a wolf, and the Pu household could not bear the harm caused if a wolf injured someone.

He had only seen two of the six ice plains wolves: Xia Tian and Maomao Gou. Xia Tian's fur was somewhat white, making it look like an elegant knight, while Maomao Gou looked completely like a villain; he didn't know how many times in Winterfell he had to detour around that beast.

When Maomao Gou belonged to Rickon Stark, this trait was especially obvious, but when Maomao Gou belonged to Lang Nü, the additional thoughts became impossible to suppress.

It is said that the wolf of Lang Nü's brother, pure white without a single mixed hair, is snow‑white in color, also symbolizing purity and honor, so its owner Xue Nuo would leave Winterfell, for honor and faith, choosing to serve on the Great Wall. Hmph, I hear he might even become Lord Commander of the Night's Watch!

His sister was completely different; some say her color is blood‑red, but he occasionally feels that black would also be fitting.

Some rumors claim she secretly killed the legitimate Stark heirs just to seize Winterfell's inheritance—since he hadn't seen Sansa Stark die in her arms, he was half‑believing, half‑doubting, but……

Some speculate that the Iron Islands' whore killed Sansa Stark, because Lang Nü had once killed her brother, that chameleon Seyne, and hung the octopus's head on Winterfell's walls—but what ability does that Iron Islands' whore have to make Sansa happen to die just outside Winterfell? If she wanted to provoke, she could just as well send back Sansa's head, just as Lang Nü sent back Seyne's.

He saw Sansa's appearance before death—it was certainly poisoning—but what poison could be controlled so precisely, so opportune, as to make Sansa seize up while in Lang Nü's arms?

He didn't understand; she thought the Iron Islands' whore probably lacked that ability. Lang Nü wasn't known for poison—he dared not consider that angle; it was simply too hard to fathom.

He clearly saw Lang Nü's grief; if that were an act, she truly ought to have an ice plains wolf blacker than Maomao Gou……no, she ought to have a black shadow mountain cat! Only a cat would be so vicious.

Lang Nü pushed all blame or suspicion onto the tall woman who brought Sansa back to Winterfell and Stannis's chancellor, the Onion Knight—but the Onion Knight, being a diplomat, was exempt from prison and now merely wanders Winterfell idle, whereas that tall woman is different; she carries documents bearing a lion seal and a longsword decorated with a lion's head, giving Lang Nü full reason to suspect her, and moreover, that sword is already broken.

That too is suspicious.

That stupid woman looks far more foolish than Lang Nü; compared to making him believe a simple‑minded stupid woman, he feels toward Lang Nü…… he truly wishes he could find a confidant to open his heart to and voice his doubts.

He felt it was impossible to make his suspicions public…… perhaps, when alone, he could confide in the heart tree, for it knows everything and remembers everything.

These conspiracies had long exceeded his mental capacity; he quickly shook off the distracting thoughts in his mind and threw himself into the task at hand.

They climbed up from the rocky, stony hill outside the slope, he closely followed Lang Nü. Lang Nü was as agile as a wild monkey in the jungle, lightly leaping over one huge boulder after another, scrambling over one raised mound after another.

He trudged forward in the dark with difficulty, the fur in his mouth almost bitten through…… he didn't know how loud a grunt he would have to make if he didn't have this piece of fur.

He imitated Lang Nü stepping over a stone, but his hands were weak, and he accidentally toppled, his armor striking the stone and making a scraping sound that startled him into a cold sweat; fortunately, the cloak muffled it, making the sound dull, like a stone hitting loose earth…… hopefully that was the sound.

Lang Nü snapped her head back and gave him a fierce warning glance.

In the darkness, Lang Nü's eyes were surprisingly expressive.

He had no doubt that if it happened a second time, she would press her ardor against his neck. He had already seen the red smiling face pulsing on the sword hilt.

That foretold the master's emotions.

He lowered his head and followed carefully, yet he was greatly dissatisfied inside.

Not everyone can be as silent as she is—haven't you heard Qiao Ji, Ai De Le beside him panting already?

She indeed signaled to stop, and then the soldiers nearby all looked downward; everyone knew that meant to halt.

Lang Nü gave him another fierce glare.

Hmph, at least Sansa died because of you—you're not innocent in that regard, are you? he thought as he lay on the barren soil of the hill.

They rested in place for a while. Looking downward, he saw their own camp's fire blazing brightly; he knew the troops of each division had already taken position and were waiting. Looking upward, the firelight diffused from Bolton's side made the palisades and watchtowers clearly visible; beyond the firelight should be the enemy camp.

Lang Nü rose again, and everyone immediately continued.

This was the most perilous stretch.

They grew slower and slower; he could almost see the soldiers crouched and huddled on the tower's corner. The wooden tower connected to the corner turret, soldiers wearing helmets and carrying shields on their backs, patrolling back and forth.

He didn't know how Lang Nü would begin or how she would assign duties, so he curiously looked toward Lang Nü.

She lay on her side on the slope, hidden beside the stone mound.

"Quite lucky, the wind is right; their little dogs can't sniff us out." She spoke softly, volume low, but he heard her clearly: "There are four soldiers patrolling the tower, and two archers on each side of the palisades. That makes eight total, archers—do you remember? Assign numbers from left to right, take your tasks. When I say begin, act immediately."

Then what? he wondered—who would move the anti‑cavalry barriers, who would open the camp, who would set fire to the supply tents?

There was no then.

The archers passed Rica, took the bows from their backs, and a few guys actually started to string them only now—Rica nearly wanted to burst out cursing.

He didn't dare.

He saw the attendant Huo Denuo Rui and several narrow‑marsh people also taking out their bows, if that could even be called a bow.

Eight enemy soldiers outside, yet Lang Nü assigned more than twenty archers; even while still below the road, they had already been numbered and matched to the foe.

"Begin!"

The archers hesitated not, rose and shot; the feathered arrows vanished into the night.

Rui Ka didn't see or hear the result. Because at that moment Lang Nü had already drawn Passion.

"Follow me to take down Bo Dun!" Passion flashed, brilliant like dazzling light.

The soldiers behind him began to charge at that moment. He noticed the archers also threw down their bows and picked up the dry torches nearby.

He didn't know what use holding such dry torches had; if they wanted to start a fire, they'd still have to stop and wait to find a fire source to light…

Just as he was thinking, the dry torches were lit one after another in an instant, and he almost jumped from the sudden flames.

Damn, is that the ragged red-robed monk?

He had no time to be surprised, drew his sword, and closely followed Lang Nü behind.

They finally spat out the fur they had been biting, and began to howl and shout killing without restraint.

Perhaps hearing this sound, the cavalry waiting down the slope would move… They would certainly not become an isolated force, especially since the ambush was by Lang Nü.

Big guy La Er Sen stopped at that moment and blew the horn.

"Ooh…" half a sound later, Rui Ka saw a swift arrow pierce his neck.

He felt his hairs stand on end.

Instantly, he threw down his long sword, rushed to La Er Sen's side, and snatched the horn from his hand. He didn't bother to look at La Er Sen's twitching body and blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

He turned over his body and hid behind a wooden post.

The horn was covered in La Er Sen's blood. Having no choice, he extended his mouth to continue. The bloody, thick taste.

"Ooh…" He exerted all his strength, but found the horn's sound wasn't as loud as other soldiers' blowing.

Damn! He threw down the torch and braced with both hands.

"Ooh…" He finally blew a sound like a normal horn, equally loud.

The sound of arrows embedding into the wooden post, the sound of them sinking into the dirt ahead, he paid no heed.

"Ooh…"

When he finally felt the signal was sufficient, he rushed out from behind the post, picking up his long sword and the dry torch.

He saw Lang Nü, at that moment, use Passion to slash open the bolt holding the camp gate shut; under the subsequent soldiers' charge, the gate was pushed open instantly.

At that moment they brandished torches and surged in.

Arrows flew everywhere, but most were aimed at Lang Nü. He quickly followed after.

An arrow struck his shoulder, he didn't feel it penetrate the flesh. Another arrow hit his stomach.

Really annoying, he brushed off the arrow's fletching, but it seemed to stick, lodged on his outer garment, and he didn't bother with it further.

Arrows came from who knows where, sending force from all directions, yet none caused him pain.

This is the fine armor captured in the southern campaign, you idiot—after penetration there's still a layer of leather armor, then a layer of mail, then a layer of hard leather armor, and finally the soft armor my father prepared… you morons!

He casually threw the torch at the oncoming enemy… As soon as it left his hand he regretted it, for torches are meant to burn supplies and tents, not to intimidate enemies.

Fortunately Lang Nü didn't turn her head to glare at him again.

Bo Dun's cavalry came from the flank at that moment, and just as he thought danger would appear, a black mass shot forward, knocking that rider from his horse; the horse galloped ahead, neighing in terror, facing the sea of torches, then flipped over onto the ground.

Rui Ka flung open his cloak and thrust his sword into the face of the still-struggling rider.

When he lifted his head again, the position of Lang Nü's light sword was already a hundred feet away.

He followed the firelight with the sweeping troops, and the guards beside him began at that moment to toss torches toward the tents on either side.

He didn't find the torch useful. In the freezing cold, the torch sputtered out as soon as it touched the ground, not even as good as the fire basin Senlin had overturned in front of the camp.

Rui Ka felt Bo Dun's soldiers charging from all sides, while others fled in all directions; the scene was utterly chaotic.

He fixed his gaze on the glowing light sword, and casually cut down any soldiers who accidentally collided with their unit.

The camp's firelight was bright; he could basically tell which were enemy troops and which were comrades.

Thanks to the cloak, he believed there was still time to don it and slash left and right, all of whom were companions.

Lang Nü brandished the light sword, occasionally reaping the soldiers who charged, and occasionally thrusting left and right to shatter one infantry formation after another; once scattered, she was then hacked down by the following attendants and guards.

Those cavalrymen who tried to mount their horses and charge at them were thrown into even greater chaos by the little furry dog striking like a shadow.

He teamed up with the nearby guards, forming a squad that hacked left and right, continually hurling torches at newer tents.

Wave after wave of arrows, truly damned annoying.

He turned his head to look, only to see another hanging tower arrow pavilion.

"Let's go deal with the archers!" he shouted at Tang Mu Suo. Tang Mu Suo turned his head at the sound, but an arrow sank into his face.

Damn! He quickly drew on shadow, grabbed a few nearby soldiers, and rushed past the adjacent barracks.

Two enemy soldiers came through the gap between the barracks; he blocked a knife, then stabbed his sword into the man's belly, and before the man could go limp, he pulled out his long sword and kicked him over. Another familiar soldier whose name he couldn't recall swiftly dealt with the other enemy.

At that moment they followed the fire‑lit barracks to the base of the wooden hanging tower.

On the hanging tower, enemy soldiers hurled down stones and fire basins, and pulled out the roof timbers to throw down together.

He dodged the stones, ignored the fire basin, and a spark fell somewhere, nearly driving him mad.

He tossed aside his sword, and together with a nearby soldier pulled out a nearby ladder, inserted it into the middle gap of the hanging tower, then twisted it hard to push the tower over.

At that moment the enemy soldiers tore off the hardwood from the hanging tower and threw it straight down; they hurriedly hid beneath the ladder.

The tremendous impact burst out with a fierce clang, and the huge vibration left his arm numb.

But this could not stop them from toppling the tower.

The soldiers above, as they twisted, lost footing; one soldier panicked and jumped down, emitting a heavy thud, followed by a low, mournful wail.

The tower finally collapsed with a roar under the twisting force; Rui Ka hastily shoved his comrade aside—the tower fell in their direction, nearly crushing them both.

He no longer paid attention to the rescued soldier, immediately picked up his long sword—already bent from the blow—and charged at the soldiers falling from the tower; after dispatching one enemy, he grabbed a nearby spear and thrust it into the throat of another struggling soldier.

The other soldiers likewise swept up the other enemies who had fallen from the tower.

When the fighting here was over, these surviving soldiers formed ranks, repeatedly scattering enemies far more numerous than themselves, reaping life after life.

He didn't know whether it was their fearlessness that frightened the enemy. At that moment he heard the horn sounding from below the slope and a new wave of battle cries.

The cavalry is coming to kill.