Chapter 465: One Step Back, One Step Ahead

Even the Feng family's own people pushing the carts were caught in it, but it was precisely this indiscriminate arrow fire that made those behind the stockade wall even more afraid to show their heads.

"You've been like this since our army days — everything has to be done by the book. All this rigid punctiliousness, don't you ever get tired of it?" Li He grumbled, though his eyes were fixed on both sides of the stockade wall. Riders came by from time to time signaling, and every time he saw one, a look of disappointment surfaced on his face.

Li Dajin, however, kept his eyes on the earth-filling operation and said in a deep voice, "Rules are rules. Since everyone follows them, there's a reason for it. Winning is what matters. Don't go thinking about cutting corners. This stockade of his is a real headache to set up — walls and ditches. From up there, he can hold it easily. Mounted men have to dismount and scale the wall, and that's just sending them to their deaths."

This time Li He made no sound. Li Dajin spurred his horse forward a few steps and muttered, "The people inside the stockade really can keep their nerve. I thought they'd come out to fight once it was half filled!"

The base of the stockade wall was slowly piling up with earth. The wall was only about the height of a man, so the job wasn't too big. But Li Dajin didn't press for speed; everyone prioritized safety, making their protection as complete as possible before anything else. Naturally, the pace couldn't be fast. Once burning bundles of straw started being tossed down from the wall, it got even slower.

Still, with the slow accumulation, a slope eventually took shape. Standing atop the piled earth, one could step right over into the stockade with a single stride.

"This is just handing silver to us brothers!" someone said in a gruff voice. A burst of raucous laughter erupted from the crowd of mounted bandits who had been waiting so long. Watching the slope outside the stockade wall take form, their tension slowly dissipated. In a situation like this, charging in was hardly a death sentence — it was just ordinary slaughter.

They all lived by the blade. A straight-up fight with real swords and spears held no fear for them, especially with silver bounties dangled in front of them. A wall that could be crossed in a single step was no obstacle anymore.

Li Dajin turned and made a hand signal. Immediately, someone went over to the bandit crowd to shout orders. A cart was also pushed to the front, piled high with loose silver ingots that glittered under the sunlight. Someone stood there shouting, "The bounty's right here! If you brothers have the skill, charge up and take it!"

This drove the bandits and outlaws into an even wilder frenzy of howling and shouting, each one worked up to the extreme. The Feng family's side was utterly meticulous — archers were already in position, ready to provide cover at any moment. Shields and weapons were also freed up as much as possible to supply them. After discussions among the several parties, the bravest and fiercest men leading the charge were all given shields for protection. Everyone looked brimming with confidence.

For all the uproar outside, the refugee stockade remained eerily silent throughout. Only whenever the roving mounted squads tried to draw near would they immediately see a forest of bamboo pikes rise up inside.

The silence within the stockade made many people uneasy, but not a single one voiced it. They all ignored it, consciously or otherwise. Some never even noticed at all.

Feng Bao came riding over in a fury, heading straight for Li Dajin. Li Dajin and Li He were both standing on a cart, watching the stockade in the distance. Feng Bao paid no mind to the bustle of activity around him. Reining in his horse, he demanded angrily, "Li! The Old Master and the Master have already offered such a high bounty, yet you hand this advantage to outsiders! What exactly are you playing at!"

Li Dajin's brow furrowed. Six headmen from the Feng family militia guard had also come along. All of them bore the surname Feng — distant relatives from branch families. They normally listened to Feng Bao, forming their own clique, believing that the Feng family's private militia should be run by Feng family members.

Seeing Li Dajin not react immediately, Feng Bao and his few men grew bolder. One of them raised a hand, pointing at Li Dajin, and said, "Outsiders can never be trusted. Feng family men should be led by the Feng family!"

Their voices were loud enough that people everywhere turned to look, and even the bandits and outlaws up front preparing to storm the stockade glanced back.

"Just what—" Feng Bao had barely gotten halfway through his second sentence when Li Dajin had already snatched up his saber and brought it down in a vicious slap.

Though the blade never left its scabbard, the weight of several catties was no joke. It slammed heavily across Feng Bao's face, knocking him straight off his horse. He tried to push himself up but couldn't rise. Half his face was completely swollen, his mouth full of blood, and he spat out several teeth.

The six headmen who had been clamoring along with Feng Bao all recoiled in fright. Li Dajin's face was filled with disgust. He said coldly, "You can't tell good from bad. I'm doing this to keep you alive! All of you, get the hell back! Disobey again, and I'll deal with you right here!"

The six headmen didn't dare say another word. They wheeled their horses and left at once. Feng Bao's two trusted aides watched from a distance, not daring to approach. Li Dajin stared down at Feng Bao on the ground for a while. At first, Feng Bao clutched his face, his eyes full of resentment, but under that stare, he immediately lowered his head, trembling all over with fright.

Li Dajin waved his hand, and Feng Bao's trusted men immediately came over to help him away. Once Feng Bao was gone, Li Dajin swung his arm forward. Shouts rang out, and the archers once again formed up in preparation.

Watching everything get underway, Li Dajin suddenly sighed. Beside him, Li He was silent for a moment, then said, "You're too damn soft, you know that? Since battle starts today, just find a chance later to take care of them. Just say they died in the fighting."

"Forget it. This is their Feng family unit. Besides this Feng Bao, who knows how many others have their eyes on me. Do it and I'll bring disaster on myself," Li Dajin answered sullenly.

"What are you even doing this for?"

"So my kid doesn't have to walk this road. Maybe he can pass the exams and earn an official rank, or at least become a wealthy household..."

The archer captain bellowed orders. The archers formed several ranks and began loosing arrows into the stockade. Inside, it remained silent, no reaction. After three volleys, the archers dispersed to all sides.

"Charge! Heavy reward for the first ones up!" someone roared. The dismounted bandits and outlaws all bellowed in response. A dozen or so men carrying shields ran at the front, and everyone else followed behind, shouting battle cries.

In this first wave, aside from those with shields at the front, the men behind carrying single-handed weapons all held a bundle in their other hand — bundles filled with earth.

The charge was not fast. The dozen or so shields at the front stayed linked together the whole time, and those behind advanced at practically a shuffling half-step. Everyone was worried about a sudden repeat of yesterday's boiling water and arrow fire.

The front rank had already stepped onto the slope. There was no reaction from the stockade wall. No one came out to pour scalding water, no one shot arrows, and no one raised bamboo pikes.

It wasn't just the stockade that was quiet — even the Feng family's main force had fallen silent. Everyone was watching this spot with rapt attention. Only the hoofbeats of the mounted squads circling the stockade, searching for an opening, still rang out.

"Get up there! Get up there!" someone behind them bellowed. It was only a few steps — why not charge over faster? Were they waiting for the people inside to mount the wall and defend again?

A single sentence to wake the dreamers. The force that had been holding its speed suddenly broke into a frantic sprint. The front rank lunged forward, those behind shoved and pressed. In the sudden burst of chaos and tension, no one noticed the urgent footsteps that had suddenly erupted inside the stockade.

Even if someone heard them, they would only assume it was the defenders inside rushing to man the wall. Hearing it would only make them urge the front to charge faster, more frantically.

The stockade wall, it turned out, was built like this: divided into two tiers. From the outside, it looked like a continuous earthen mound, but inside it was split into two levels. The people inside could stand on that first tier, just over two feet high, to defend outward.

No one was there! The arrows really had kept the defenders pinned down! The man charging at the very front realized with delighted surprise. But he had no chance to linger on that wall top for long. A huge mass of people was surging up behind him. The shield-bearers in the front rank jumped straight down, charging forward the moment they landed.

"Form ranks! Just like you learned at He Family Village!" Zhang Hubin roared at the top of his lungs. Six paces in front of him, ferocious, murderous thugs and bandits were leaping down from the wall top in an endless stream, brandishing their weapons as they charged.

All the mixed militia had formed into a great horizontal line, thirty men wide and five deep. On both their flanks were the jianghu fighters and the ablest of the refugee men. The refugee men were armed with ten-foot bamboo pikes!

Facing the mixed militia's horizontal line were the enemies leaping down and charging forward without pause. Their formation was even slightly longer than the slope, completely screening it.

"Thrust forward! Thrust forward!" Zhang Hubin and the squad leaders under him were all shouting.

Those mixed militia had combat experience. Many had even followed Zhao Jin to the walls of Xuzhou City. But back then, the Zhao Battalion had charged at the front. Now they were on the front line, facing the enemy themselves. Most of them were very nervous. Even many refugees had taken part in the defense earlier, while they had been held back as a reserve force the whole time.

Many were so tense they couldn't hear the orders. All they could do was thrust the long spears in their hands forward — thrust them forward — because the men giving the orders were doing just that.

The first to clash were the shield-bearing mounted bandits. Spear tips met shields. Some glanced off, some struck home but failed to penetrate, pulling the wielder off balance. The bandits with shields quickly turned sideways and surged forward. There were gaps between the spears. If they could close in on the spearmen, they could kill and wound.

But the formation was five ranks deep. Shields could block the first rank, but just as they turned sideways and rushed forward a few steps, the leveled spears of the second and third ranks were waiting. Spear tips, constantly sharpened and maintained, pierced effortlessly through cotton coats and leather jackets, then pulled free. Blood gushed, and men fell screaming.

The men charging behind them had even worse luck than their shield-bearing comrades in front, because they had no protection in their hands — and the first rank's spears were already thrusting forward.

From the slope to the stockade wall top, only those standing on the wall top could see the scene inside. Those on the slope couldn't see it, and neither could those behind. But the moment they did see it, they were already being shoved forward by the people behind them. They jumped down, carried forward a few steps by momentum, and ran straight into the spear formation — over and over again.

Once blood was drawn on the spear tips, there was no more talk of nerves. It was simply thrusting forward, again and again, wounding and killing the enemy without end.

Some of the bandits had decent skills and quick reactions. They realized something was wrong while still on the wall top. Upon landing, they threw themselves into a roll, hoping to tumble close and slash at legs. But the spears of the rear ranks simply stabbed straight down. Others, more cautious, pressed themselves against the stockade wall the moment they landed and tried to slip away to the sides. But those jianghu men on the flanks had long been itching for this, and the able-bodied refugees knew what to do as well — just keep jabbing the bamboo pikes in their hands forward.

The momentum of the charge was utterly unstoppable. Even the horizontal formation was rocked and swaying, yet it did not break apart. Instead, corpses and gravely wounded men piled up in a tangled heap before them.