Chapter 100: Stalemate

The junior leaders were sweating. Their strength lay in fighting bravely on the front lines, but they were not good at analyzing or reflecting on their experiences.

One Lingyan sat in the central seat, waiting for the answers from the men below. After a long while, not a single person spoke up.

“Speak!” One Lingyan shouted angrily, causing all the junior leaders to tremble in fear.

“Palisades…” a junior leader whispered.

“What did you say? Speak louder!”

“Palisades! They have palisades,” the junior leader said, mustering his courage. “If they didn’t have palisades, our brothers wouldn’t have died so many.”

The two leaders beside him looked at him with shocked expressions. In the past, if anyone dared say such a thing, the chief would have dismissed them for shirking responsibility.

But this time, One Lingyan, in a single thought, did not immediately scold them. Instead, he nodded and said, “The enemy has palisades, huh... But when we fought the Wujia Village before, their palisades were even higher. Why didn’t we suffer losses like this then?”

“Because of their weapons,” the junior leader, encouraged, spoke confidently. “Their weapons are longer than ours. Charging their stockade puts us at a disadvantage.”

The chief nodded.

There was one more point the junior leaders hadn’t mentioned: this enemy was far more tenacious, seemingly fearless of death. In the past, during their many raids, the militia would often falter after three or four volleys and a charge. At that moment, if a shining blade or spear was thrust before their eyes, they would drop their weapons and flee, their formations breaking completely.

But this enemy was different. No matter how they charged or tried to intimidate, their formation remained impenetrable. On the contrary, because of the palisades, the bandits couldn’t charge properly; climbing the walls meant facing multiple spears at once. How could they fight like that?

One Lingyan said, “What you said is very good, quite accurate.”

Several junior leaders breathed a sigh of relief, but One Lingyan immediately added, “But knowing there are palisades, yet still stubbornly attacking, what are you?”

“You’re pigs! You’re a bunch of pigs! You’ve caused the deaths of our brothers!”

“Chief!” a junior leader cried out, “Please forgive us!”

“Please forgive us!” the others echoed.

“Forgive? What sins do you have?” One Lingyan sneered. “You’re just stupid. I think you need to get back out there and train properly in battle.”

The three junior leaders turned pale, stripped of their armor and stood aside. From that day on, they were the lowest-ranked soldiers.

One Lingyan called over three other bandits who had performed better and immediately promoted them to new leaders. He showed his decisiveness completely—such a major change was settled in just a few words. The three demoted leaders hung their heads despondently. Though they had loyal followers, what chance did they have against One Lingyan?

After all, One Lingyan was unquestionably the chief of this stronghold; no one could defy him.

The vanguard from Black Wind Stronghold numbered only about 150 to 160 men; half were lost in this battle. But Black Wind Stronghold was large, with over 400 troops rushing to reinforce. Losses in the tens were still bearable.

They had always been invincible in battle. This time, Fengshi Village was clearly a tough nut to crack.

“This Fengshi Village cannot be defeated by force; it must be outwitted,” One Lingyan said.

…

Inside Fengshi Village, desolation hung heavy.

Villagers gathered one after another, and in the center of the crowd, a hoarse cry like a fledgling bird’s sorrow pierced the air.

“My son!”

A woman stood in the crowd, clutching a young man. An arrow was lodged in his back, and his clothes were stained with blood.

This young man had volunteered as an auxiliary soldier but was struck by a stray arrow and died on the spot. Somehow, his mother learned of it, rushed into the auxiliary camp, and carried him out.

“My son! Your death is so unjust!”

More people gathered, pointing fingers at the grieving mother.

“Why did you foolishly go to fight? Your death is so unfair!”

“Auntie, people cannot come back to life. Please restrain your grief,” a villager beside her said.

Others echoed, “Restrain your grief, restrain your grief…”

At that moment, Zhang Ani, tasked by Xu Wenshan, arrived.

Xu Wenshan planned to expand the auxiliary forces. The palisade at the village entrance required more hands, and the wounded needed care. This meant squeezing more villagers from Fengshi Village. Since Xu Wenshan himself couldn’t do it, he delegated the job to Zhang Ani.

“Everyone, listen to me. The Deer Crane area is recruiting auxiliary soldiers…”

Before Zhang Ani could finish, the villagers turned and glared at him angrily.

“What… what’s wrong?”

“Look at the time! You’re still babbling about Deer Crane! Are you from Fengshi Village or Deer Crane Valley?” an uncle shouted angrily.

Zhang Ani finally saw the situation clearly. “Sorry, I didn’t see earlier…”

Another villager stood up. “You’re the one who urged them to fight. You’re a traitor!”

“I… how am I a traitor? I’m trying to protect our village…”

“You’re protecting us by letting our people die? Is this how you protect us?” the uncle challenged.

Another said, “Ani, you should be smarter. Those Deer Crane people fighting the bandits have nothing to do with us. Let them fight each other! I advise you to get out soon, or you’ll die there sooner or later.”

Tears welled in Zhang Ani’s eyes. “Why are you all like this? If we don’t fight now, when the Deer Crane people are all dead, do you think the bandits will spare us?”

“If it weren’t for the Deer Crane people killing the leader, would the bandits have targeted us?” the kneeling aunt suddenly sobbed hysterically.

“Yeah, when the leader was alive, the bandits weren’t this many.”

“So it’s always the Deer Crane people who cause trouble.”

Zhang Ani felt both anger and pity for the villagers—anger at their short-sightedness, only caring about their small patch of land; pity for their cowardice, preferring to be oppressed rather than resist.

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