Chapter 431: Rewards for the Deity

Old Zhang Fei’s offensive immediately slowed.

The bandit troops at the rear began to hesitate, refusing to advance. Those attacking the stronghold in front panicked upon hearing the cannon fire. Their assault grew increasingly chaotic, and their scaling of the stockade walls also decelerated.

The fierce bandits who had breached the stronghold, cut off from reinforcements, suddenly became isolated. They were swiftly annihilated within the walls by the civilian militia.

Old Zhang Fei inwardly cursed his misfortune.

At that moment, a side gate unexpectedly opened from the breached stronghold ahead. A cavalry unit charged out, led by a commander clad in mountain-patterned armor, wielding a long spear and galloping furiously on his steed.

The commander’s movements and aura alone screamed “official troops.” Those within the system radiated a distinct air, utterly different from outsiders—a presence impossible for disorganized highwaymen to mimic.

Old Zhang Fei recoiled in shock: “Oh no! This stronghold is an officials’ trap. We’ve walked right into their ambush!”

The moment this thought crossed his mind, the battle became untenable.

Old Nan Feng led over two hundred cavalrymen, charging forth with fierce momentum.

Though the same unit, their tactics diverged completely.

Despite her long service in Gaojia Village, Zao Ying’s approach remained that of a bandit: direct, head-on assaults without warning—spear thrusts followed by wild saber swings, embodying sheer daring.

Old Nan Feng, however, had battled Mongolians at Guyuan’s border towns for years—his methods unconsciously absorbing the essence of Mongolian light cavalry tactics.

As the cavalry surged forward, Old Nan Feng bellowed: “Don’t just raise your spears the moment you charge! Are you fooling around, aiming to shoot? Are your Kaiyuan Bows just for show?”

His roar prompted dozens of cavalrymen to swiftly lean their spears against their horses and sling Kaiyuan Bows off their backs. Yet another hundred-plus cavalrymen had no bows; they readied small crossbows instead.

Clearly, the bow users were former bandits, while the crossbow-wielders were new recruits from Chengcheng County.

Old Nan Feng commanded: “Charge! Open fire the moment you hit range! After shooting, circle around and keep firing! Understood?”

The cavalry roared in unified assent.

Faster than words could capture, they were already in firing range. A flurry of arrows rained chaotically upon the bandit army ahead…

Drawing and shooting from horseback demanded great skill—balance maintained only by gripping the horse’s flanks with both legs. Force was hard to channel when drawing the bow, and the arrows fired by bandits wielding Kaiyuan Bows skewed wildly off-target, their impact negligible.

Deep down, Old Nan Feng grimaced: Ah, damn! This cavalry can’t replicate Mongolian light cavalry tactics after all. Mongolian riders were practically born in the saddle.

But no sooner had this thought formed than he noticed something else: the greenhorn Gaojia Village cavalry recruits firing small crossbows were landing far more precise shots. Crossbows required no drawn tension, unaffected by horsemanship—their bolts flew with undiminished force.

Old Nan Feng brightened: Hahaha! So this is the advantage of small crossbows?

The bandit troops, still reeling from the cannon barrage, now screamed under this hail of arrows. Old Zhang Fei bellowed furiously: “Hold formation! Stay calm! Don’t panic!”

His frantic shouting achieved nothing. Bandit morale was no match for disciplined troops. Once setbacks piled up, turning the tide became impossible to turn the situation around.

After loosing a single volley, Old Nan Feng wheeled his cavalry away. As they retreated, riders reloaded crossbow bolts.

Once most had reloaded, Old Nan Feng turned his horse once more and charged back at the raiders.

The tactics of the Mongolian light cavalry had once swept Eurasia—their reputation no boast. On the offensive, they pounded you with ceaseless arrows. Circling you, they kept firing. If you grew enraged and chased them, they fled—yet still shot backward over their shoulders. The moment you halted pursuit, they turned and galloped back, arrows flying anew…

Countless invincible armies had fallen before the bows of the Mongolian light cavalry.

During their era, the only force that gave them pause was the crossbow formations of the Song Dynasty military.

But…

Old Zhang Fei had no crossbow formation.

The bandit troops were constantly on the move. Without supply lines or military workshops, how could they possess gear like crossbows? Their limited arrows were painstakingly whittled during fleeting moments of respite while fleeing.

Facing cavalry encircling them like madmen and raining arrows, they were utterly helpless.

Before long…

Snap!

Old Zhang Fei lost control.

Bandit soldiers began scattering in all directions, refusing to cluster as arrow fodder for the cavalry. No matter how Old Zhang Fei shouted, they wouldn’t regroup.

Some dashed into the woods, some plunged into ditches, others aimlessly sprinted north—going anywhere but back to formation.

The men around Old Zhang Fei dwindled swiftly.

One glance at his remaining forces told him disaster loomed.

Sure enough!

Old Nan Feng wouldn’t miss such a golden chance. Slinging his bow across his back, he yanked his reins, wheeled his horse, and swept out his spear with a flourish: “Brothers! Stow the bows! Break out the spears! Heh heh heh… time for carnage!”

The cavalry unit: “Woof! Woof! Woof!”

Old Nan Feng bellowed: “Charge! Whatever you grab belongs to you!”

This was border army’s tried-and-true tactic: promise soldiers personal loot, and they’d fight recklessly. Yet, it fell flat in Gaojia Village.

One cavalryman awkwardly yelled: “General, our village’s military law states all spoils belong to the collective!”

Old Nan Feng: “…”

Dead silence.

Flustered, he amended: “Charge! Earn great merit! The Deity will reward you handsomely!”

This clicked!

The Deity’s special rewards were the true currency.

The Deity often bestowed eccentric gifts: silky-smooth milk chocolate, happy fat water, Mixue Bingcheng’s sweet honey tea, Magic Crisp Angles, spicy strips, cumin rice crisps, date candies, Xizhilang jelly, Pudding popsicles, Wang Wang snow cake…

What you got depended entirely on what the Deity happened to be snacking on.

Receivers felt like opening a blind box—hitting a bizarre jackpot could bring fortune!

The cavalry’s eyes instantly shimmered with the multicolored aura of the Deity!

“For the Deity’s special rewards! Charge!”

“Onwards onwards! I crave great merit!”

“Magic Crisp Angles, I’m coming!”

“Pudding popsicles reign supreme!”

The entire unit blazed with fury, an aura conjured by snacks enveloping them—a +32% combat effectiveness buff.

Old Nan Feng spearheaded the assault, charging straight at Old Zhang Fei.

Seeing the cavalry thunder down, the bandits dissolved in terrified disarray, scattering like roaches.

Old Nan Feng sliced through effortlessly, reaching Old Zhang Fei in moments.

He brandished his spear: “Halt, bandit chief! This general comes for your head!”