Chapter 492: First Volume, Chapter 492: Dead End

First Volume, Chapter 492: Dead End

Qin Feng walked haltingly, dodging and weaving, his spirit taut as a drawn bowstring—as if one more ounce of effort would snap his nerves outright.

This ambush began at nightfall, and by the time Qin Feng returned to Qingyu Mountain's territory, dawn was near—he had spent the entire night evading enemy patrols.

Seeing Qingyu Mountain rising on the horizon, Qin Feng, utterly exhausted, did not relax—he felt heavier, more suffocated than before.

"What if, inside Qingyu Mountain, there's no one left but me?"

"What if all four hundred and fifty of my men have been annihilated?"

Qin Feng trudged toward Qingyu Mountain, step by uneven step; though only a thousand paces away, his mind churned with chaos—but even in this dire predicament, he felt no regret. If time could reverse, he would still rush here without hesitation to rescue Ning Hu and the Tianji Camp Guards.

Less than TwoHundredSteps from Qingyu Mountain, what appeared before Qin Feng was not Ning Hu or his soldiers—but enemy cavalry charging from behind.

After a full night of brutal combat, the Xiongying Brigade still refused to abandon the hunt for survivors, determined to exterminate every last "intruder" who had slipped into their territory.

Thinking again, it made sense.

If Di forces had infiltrated Shedynasty territory, Qin Feng would have led his troops to hunt them down at any cost, leaving none alive.

Qin Feng was nearly spent, yet he gritted his teeth, held on, and staggered toward Qingyu Mountain.

With only a Hundred Steps left to the Mountain Foot, Qin Feng was on the verge of collapse—his legs moved only by sheer willpower, stumbling forward like a man dragging himself inch by inch. It was less running, more crawling.

The ten-plus Xiongying Brigade cavalry pursuing him were now less than a thousand steps away—distance negligible for fast-moving light cavalry.

Eighty Steps… Seventy Steps… Sixty Steps…

Qin Feng's consciousness grew dim; each step felt as if his legs weighed a thousand catties. Qingyu Mountain Foot was right before him—just a dash into the dense woods, and he could escape the cavalry's pursuit.

Yet that final distance of less than Fifty Steps felt to Qin Feng like an impassable abyss.

The mocking laughter of the Xiongying cavalry rang clear.

Qin Feng slowly turned, facing the cavalry now less than Fifty Steps away, advancing at a leisurely pace as if strolling—then silently drew his short knife from his lower back.

Seeing Qin Feng's pitiful little knife, the enemy cavalry burst into derisive, sneering laughter.

"Hahaha! This Liang animal's got guts—even knowing he's dead, he still draws his blade! Brothers, give him a quick end!"

"Look at his clothes—he's no Tianji Camp Guard. Probably just some lowly Liang infiltrator. To have this kind of courage? Rare indeed."

"So what? Still just a lamb waiting to be slaughtered!"

"Did you notice? This guy's skin's so smooth and soft—how's he not some pampered noble's son?"

"Heh, you're right! This pretty boy must be some official's brat, sent to the Front Line to polish his record. Bet he pissed off the Liang Kingdom North Border garrison and got dumped on this suicide mission."

The enemy cavalry didn't rush to kill Qin Feng—they circled him, taunting him with smug grins, like cats toying with a trapped mouse.

The lead sergeant pulled his reins, broke from the circling group, and halted before Qin Feng, looking down with utter contempt.

"Kid, whose descendant are you in Liang's army? If you cooperate, I might spare you—after all, killing a lowly grunt like you won't matter much."

Qin Feng swayed, barely standing—he didn't even understand why he hadn't collapsed yet. Was it hope to see his kin and comrades one last time?

As for the Xiongying sergeant's questions, Qin Feng paid them no mind—they offered only false illusions.

If Qin Feng were the son of a famed general, he'd be taken hostage, made a prisoner of the Di army. If he were unknown, they'd kill him without hesitation.

Qin Feng panted heavily, staring at the sergeant with neither submission nor defiance.

Seeing Qin Feng wouldn't comply, the sergeant raised his spear without hesitation and drove it straight down.

With his last breath, Qin Feng stumbled sideways, barely avoiding the strike.

This move startled the sergeant.

"Oh? Still got strength to dodge? Hahaha! With your soft skin and pampered look, I never thought you'd be a tough one."

"Brother, I admire your courage. As a reward, I'll grant you the finest death!"

At the sergeant's order, the circling cavalry wheeled their horses northward, halted a thousand steps away, formed a tight formation, raised their spears, and charged toward Qin Feng in full assault.

To die by the Xiongying Brigade's charge was the final honor they bestowed upon this "soldier who didn't look like one."

On the battlefield, things were never simply black or white—each side fought for their nation, each soldier fulfilling their duty; neither side was good or evil.

Facing the charging Xiongying cavalry, Qin Feng plunged his short knife into the ground, stood tall, spread his arms, and welcomed his final fate.

Qin Feng was no proper soldier—he never wanted to be one. His greatest wish had always been to loaf around, eat, and die as a decaying capitalist. But since he stood on this battlefield, he had the courage to meet his fate, defending the last dignity of the Qin clan, Shedynasty, and Beixi County.

The Xiongying cavalry were now less than Three Hundred Steps away—the thunder of hooves sounded like funeral bells.

Three Hundred Steps—in the blink of an eye!

Just as Qin Feng prepared to close his eyes, a thud echoed beside him.

The sergeant, who had been guarding Qin Feng to prevent his escape, tumbled heavily from his horse—his neck pierced by a Feathered-arrow.

The arrow was unmistakable—it was the standard issue of the Tianji Camp!

Immediately behind Qin Feng came a roar.

"Kill!"

"Protect Qin Qianhu!"

"Young Master, we've come!"

"To kill Qin Young Master, you'll have to walk over our corpses!"

Qin Feng's eyes went blank. He slowly turned toward Qingyu Mountain—dozens emerged from the forest: Tianji Camp Guards, foot soldiers of the Beixi Light Cavalry, even the Brocade Guard.

Ning Hu led them, galloping straight toward Qin Feng, drawing arrows from his quiver and loosing them in rapid succession…