Chapter 190: Kill

190. Chapter 190: Kill

His voice grew smaller and smaller. Sun Dalei's features twitched, he suddenly gritted his teeth, and with a "thud" he dropped straight to his knees. The smile on his face froze there, his eyes already vacant.

Zhao Jin's face was twitching, his throat felt as if blocked by something, but at this moment he could care about nothing. He turned and ran toward the woods. Behind him, the whistle of arrows tearing through the air sounded again. Zhao Jin threw himself forward, sprawling directly onto the snow. The arrows buried themselves in the snow, nailed into tree trunks — all missed.

"Chase them! They can't run far!" Hearing someone behind him bellowing orders, Zhao Jin dared not delay. He reached out, grabbed his long spear, and continued sprinting deeper into the woods.

After running a few steps, Zhao Jin looked back. He saw that the ambushers had already reached the official road and were now charging toward the woods. Sun Dalei was already sprawled on the snow, several feathered arrows nailed into his back.

Zhao Jin could no longer hold back; hot tears streamed down his face. He wiped at them with one hand while his feet never stopped. He hadn't run far when he discovered his companions waiting for him there. Their expressions were complex — fear, grief, and bewilderment.

"Big brother, what do we do?" Ji Xiang asked, his voice trembling.

"What do we do? Run first!" Zhao Jin shouted. Had he been worrying too much on their behalf, that they had to ask him about every single thing?

Jolted by his shout, Ji Xiang shuddered, turned his head, and ran toward the hillside. All the others followed. Zhao Jin slowed his pace, still staying behind everyone. Chen Sheng could have run ahead, but he paused slightly and sprinted alongside Zhao Jin.

"We just run like this?" Chen Sheng asked loudly. His voice was hoarse, his nose seemingly blocked by something.

"If we get surrounded on this slope, we're dead. We'll talk after we get over this hill... Don't run in a straight line, weave around the trees!" Zhao Jin spoke breathlessly as he ran. The last shouted sentence made him choke on his breath, triggering a violent fit of coughing.

The ambushers' bows had loosed two volleys. Arrows whistled, but in these woods there was no accuracy at all; no one was hit.

The hills beside the road were not high. They were about to crest the slope when suddenly, a dozen or so men appeared before them, each gripping a pudao, charging down with savage grins.

Blocked ahead, pursuers behind. The six companions' feet instinctively paused. But Zhao Jin reacted immediately, shouting: "Charge through!"

Desperation ignited courage and potential. Though Zhao Jin was charging upward, his speed was even faster than those lying in ambush on the slope. In a few steps he was upon them, his long spear stabbing out like lightning. The opponent had just raised his pudao when the spear pierced straight through him. The spear withdrew; Zhao Jin swung both arms, the spear blade smashing directly onto the neck of the man beside him, tearing open a bloody gash — dead as well.

Chen Sheng parried with his blade, then backhanded a slash — instant decapitation. As Chen Sheng withdrew his blade, an enemy roared and charged forward swinging his blade. He had taken just two steps when a short axe came spinning through the air and split his face squarely.

Who could have imagined these youths would be so fierce? The ambushers immediately scattered in all directions, and someone even shouted: "They can't run far! Wait for the main force to come up, then we strike!"

Zhao Jin and his group did not delay. Their feet never stopping, they charged through. Liu Yong directly pulled his short axe from the enemy he had cleaved. Wang Zhaojing, however, had been in a daze the entire time.

It seemed the enemy's focus was all on the other side. The one thing Zhao Jin felt fortunate about was that the enemy had not placed archers on this side of the hill. Presumably, their archers were limited and could only be concentrated on one side to ensure maximum killing power.

There were no more ambushers on this side of the slope. After Zhao Jin led his companions over the hill, they ran another dozen or so steps before Zhao Jin shouted: "Everyone stop!"

The companions halted instinctively. Zhao Jin gripped his long spear and said loudly: "We're in the wilderness, unfamiliar with the terrain, and can't run far. If they catch us, we're dead for sure. The only way is to fight them to the death right here."

"Th-they... there are so many of them..." No one expected these trembling words to come from Wang Zhaojing. Zhao Jin simply continued: "Caught, we die. If we fight them, even if we die, we can take some with us!"

Chen Sheng made no sound, just adjusted the long blade in his hand. Liu Yong held his short axe ready. Ji Xiang gripped his four-chi straight blade with a thick spine. Wang Zhaojing tried to draw his sword, failing several times. His voice already carried a sobbing tone: "I... I want to pass the imperial exams, I want to... I can't die in..."

The shouting and clamor from the other side of the slope grew closer. Seeing Wang Zhaojing's spirit about to collapse, Zhao Jin stepped forward, grabbed his clothes, and fiercely slapped him twice across the face. Gritting his teeth, he shouted: "If you're scared, you'll die even faster!"

The slaps landed, and Wang Zhaojing's cheeks immediately swelled red. But Wang Zhaojing calmed down. He broke free of Zhao Jin's grip, drew his sword with a reverse grip, and covered his face with his other hand, saying: "Brother Zhao, you hit too hard!"

"Bingfeng, you have your bow and arrows. Find a high spot now and shoot. Priority is to take out their archers first. Go, quickly!" Zhao Jin shouted. Dong Bingfeng had the closest relationship with Sun Dalei. At this moment, his eyes were red-rimmed, and frozen tear streaks still marked his face. Hearing this, he nodded and ran off swiftly.

Zhao Jin took a deep breath and turned around. Figures were already appearing at the top of the slope. Zhao Jin rolled his shoulders and said in a deep voice: "Use the trees as cover. Don't stray too far from each other!"

As he spoke in that deep voice, the emotions of those around him steadied. Wang Zhaojing forced a smile, which tugged at the swelling on his cheeks. He asked vaguely: "Brother Zhao, are you afraid?"

"I am. But a warrior dying on the battlefield is better than dying in bed!" Zhao Jin answered loudly, stepping forward and walking up.

The distance between the two sides had closed to a dozen or so steps. Trees stood between them. Though the woods were sparse and did not hinder movement, arrows could not reach beyond twenty steps; sightlines and firing angles were all limited by the trees.

The ambushers were all able-bodied men. Some wore short black jackets, others wore sheepskin robes turned inside out. They carried several types of weapons, mainly pudao, goose-quill sabers, and short axes. Many also had daggers or short knives tucked at their waists. These ambushers kept their distance from one another, not sprinting in pursuit but rather advancing with long strides.

Ordinary stockade guards or bandits would carry nothing more than wooden clubs, or at best a shabby, broken spear. Blades and axes like these cost a dozen or even dozens of times more than a long spear. Only those who were well-trained and skilled in martial arts would use them. Judging by their combat behavior — knowing to coordinate with archers, knowing when to charge — only battle-hardened men could act this way.

Such conduct made Zhao Jin even more wary. The enemy's weapons were standardized, their movements disciplined. These were no mere rabble; they were either a powerful clan's private soldiers or true hardened bandits.

Wary and alert in his heart, Zhao Jin's steps did not stop. He kept observing the men ahead, watching for any archers appearing. Zhao Jin also noticed that the few men walking at the very front were all robust, strong fellows. Two of them were even wearing leather armor. He hadn't expected the ambushers to know to put their elites at the vanguard.

After cresting the slope, the ambushers had assumed Zhao Jin and his group had already run far. In this spreading hilly terrain, moving off the road would grow more and more exhausting. Just slowly pursuing like this, they would eventually catch up. But the ambushers never imagined that Zhao Jin and his group had not run — they had actually come forward to meet them.

There weren't many ambushers who had crossed the slope, only about twenty or so. Facing five men coming at them was indeed startling.

"I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. Didn't think you really didn't run!" One man at the very front laughed loudly.

"Good that you didn't run. Saves you the suffering. Your grandpas will give you a quick end."

"Nonsense. Surrender and you'll live. Drop your weapons, and we won't make trouble for you." One spoke after another, treating Zhao Jin and his group entirely like children. This wasn't strange — Zhao Jin and the others were tall, but they looked like half-grown kids of fifteen or sixteen.

"Tsk tsk, tender skin, tender flesh. Would make a fine little rabbit!" Someone jeered lewdly.

Zhao Jin remained silent. At ten steps' distance, Zhao Jin leveled his long spear, bent his body, and charged. The man facing him casually swung his pudao, ready to parry without a care.

Seeing this scene, someone nearby even roared with laughter: "The stance actually looks decent..."

That man's pudao swung outward to deflect, about to knock Zhao Jin's long spear aside. Zhao Jin's spear tip suddenly retracted backward. This thrust and retraction baited the pudao into swinging outward, exposing an opening. The long spear thrust fiercely, straight into the throat.

The long spear withdrew. Blood sprayed from the big man's throat as he stiffened and crashed face-first to the ground. The jeering laughter instantly vanished. Silence fell.

They were stunned, but Zhao Jin did not stop. Swinging both arms, he advanced again. The man behind that big fellow hadn't even reacted before a spear thrust pierced his throat as well! Another man killed. Zhao Jin stepped forward again, advanced again, swung his arm and thrust again. The man directly in front of him could no longer react in time.

A "Clang!" rang out. Someone beside him slashed down with a blade, heavily striking the iron ferrule of Zhao Jin's spear tip. Zhao Jin's long spear was knocked aside, but his thrust, tempered through countless repetitions, carried immense force. Even knocked off course, it still stabbed downward, directly piercing the lower abdomen of the man in front of him. One thrust, one withdrawal. The man screamed, clutching his stomach, blood ceaselessly flowing through his fingers.

"**** his mother!" Someone cried out in alarm, someone cursed. The man who had knocked aside Zhao Jin's long spear flipped his goose-quill saber and hacked down at Zhao Jin's head.

Mid-swing, a whistle sounded. The man hastily turned his blade to parry, but the incoming slash was even faster. A flash of the blade, and half of this man's shoulder was cleaved off. Blood gushed out wildly.

As Chen Sheng slashed down, his whole body crouched with the momentum. His long blade swept horizontally to one side. That man dodged hastily but still had his calf sliced open by the blade. Blood sprayed out; he lost his balance and fell to the ground. Chen Sheng worked his blade without pause, actually taking two small steps forward in that half-crouch, flipping the blade edge to slash upward. That man's pudao hadn't even come down before his lower body was ripped open by the long blade — dead on the spot.

Seven dead in the first exchange. The arrogant, careless men all sucked in a breath of cold air, instinctively scattering outward in all directions. But they were not retreating; they intended to encircle Zhao Jin and the others and slaughter them.

"Fall back! Fight them in the hollow!" Zhao Jin swung his long spear and shouted.

He and Chen Sheng were the vanguard. The two covered each other, retreating slowly. Intimidated by their earlier aggressive charge, the enemies dared not close in. But more and more men were coming over from the other side of the slope.