Nightfall descends, a bone-chilling cold blankets the winter earth.
Flames ignite in a decaying village, accompanied by eerie laughter.
The firelight illuminates a dozen or so Cavalry riding through, setting ablaze each house they encounter along the way.
Clearly, there's no one left in the village, either they've fled or perished, but even in this deserted village, they intend to burn all that can be burned.
Outside the village, tents are erected, and the village engulfed in flames and smoke in the night seems to have become their bonfire.
Armor undone, the bundles and women carried on horseback are dragged down, meat is roasted over the fire, while the women release piercing screams.
Two figures, one old, one young, lie in a ditch near the burning house, their expressions blank and filled with despair.
All the villagers either fled or died, only they escaped by hiding in the cellar, covered by the bodies of their family members, and emerged only to witness this scene.
This is Kaide Prefecture, this isn't Jurchen territory, yet these mere dozen or so men are so brazen.
So brazen that they dare to camp out in the night even though they're just a distance away from Kaide Prefecture.
Looking at the burning village and listening to the agonized screams of the women there, the old man's tears flow, covering the mouth of the child in his arms tightly, fearing any sound might escape.
Where are the Zhou Soldiers?
Where are the Zhou Soldiers who are coming to the rescue?
A hand suddenly reaches out from behind.
Appearing silently in the darkness like a ghost, the old man is so frightened he's speechless, that hand already pressing on his mouth.
Not a sound leaks out.
"Don't be afraid, woodcutter."
A deep voice also arises beside his ear.
Woodcutter? The old man's mind blanks, just to see that the man has already crouched by his side, and through the firelight, one can see a young man with a dirty face, his eyes as bright as stars.
In one hand, he holds a bow, aiming at the Jin Army on the clearing while speaking.
What does he want to do?
Before the thought even crosses the old man's mind, there's a twang sound as a heavy arrow shoots forth, followed by a Jin Soldier who was defiling a woman, scream and fall forward onto the ground, twitching a few times before going still.
The campsite that was once filled with laughter immediately descends into chaos, as about a dozen Jin Soldiers leap up to grab nearby weapons, cursing loudly and looking around frantically.
The old man shudders.
Too bold, too bold.
This ambush can only kill one person before alerting these ferocious Jin Soldiers.
The old man looks at the young man beside him, who can come and go freely, capable of escaping right after a successful hit, but he and his grandson can't run.
If they can't run, so be it—having witnessed a Jin Soldier being slain is already a solace.
He's old and useless, unable to kill the enemy; being alive is pointless, whereas this young man must survive, to kill the enemy and avenge.
"You go quickly, I'll draw their attention..." the old man mutters.
The young man doesn't seem to understand or maybe he does; he releases his hand and, contrary to the old man's expectations, doesn't run away. Instead, he lunges toward the group of Jin Soldiers.
He's gone mad!
The old man can't even shout, just holds his grandson tightly, feeling both fear and heartbreaking tears.
The young man must have lost his family and is risking it all for revenge, no longer caring for his own life.
That young man has already collided head-on with the Jin Soldiers who spotted him.
Surrounded by the glow of firelight, the crossbow in his hand has been substituted with a Long-handled Knife.
The young man moves with extreme speed, reaching the Jin Soldiers before one of them can even raise his long-handled knife.
With a dull thud, the young man's knife has already pierced the heart of one of them. The Jin Soldier roars, his body flung to the side, crashing into another Jin Soldier.
Both fall, screaming in agony.
The young man doesn't pursue the kill, instead he spins around, the knife still dripping with the blood of his last victim, and slashes accurately across the neck of the grinning Jin Soldier who had raised his weapon.
That Jin Soldier falls backward without a sound, spinning down.
All this in the blink of an eye, a motion completed in one breath, killing two Jin Soldiers so rapidly that the old man hiding aside almost didn't catch the action.
What a formidable young man!
The old man watched, his scalp tingling and nearly suffocating.
This formidable young man, he must not die.
But is it possible?
After all, there were twelve Jurchen people, and he was but one man.
As the thought crossed his mind, the young man was already entangled with the remaining Jurchen people.
The Jurchen were also seeing red, howling and cursing in their language.
The fire danced, the night dark and murky; the old man felt a buzzing in his ears, his vision a blur of confusion, only seeing one Jurchen after another falling.
Beheading, piercing the chest, slashing throats, one stroke per person, each strike bringing death, none missing their mark, one man equal to ten.
The old man was stupefied, so were the women who had been captured nearby, and finally, even the surviving Jurchen were stupefied.
Fear crept onto the faces of two notoriously savage Jurchen.
This fear caused one of them to stumble, and the young man's knife slanted across his shoulder, nearly reaching his heart.
Compared to the instant death of the others, this Jurchen's scream was loud and long-lasting.
Writhing on the ground, his screams deafening, they shattered the last bit of composure of the remaining Jurchen.
"Ambush," he shouted in broken Chinese, turning to run towards his horse.
But it was too late; as soon as he turned, the young man threw his knife, piercing his back. With a terrible scream, he fell to the ground, twitching.
The young man then strode forward, stepped on the Jurchen's back, and viciously yanked the knife out, blood spurting all over him.
"How fresh, you think I wouldn't ambush you? As if I'd announce my sect to you first and perform a set of flashy moves," he sneered.
The fires in the village were still crackling as they burned, interrupted occasionally by the sound of beams collapsing. Beyond that, all fell silent.
This silence was only brief, and moments later, the women who had been spared began to weep loudly.
"Benefactor, benefactor," they cried out, kowtowing to the young man.
The old man, hiding nearby, also stumbled over with a child in his arms.
But the young man seemed too preoccupied to heed them, searching through the dead Jurchen's belongings, cursing under his breath, apparently not finding anything to his satisfaction.
"So poor, it's the death of me."
The elder holding a child heard him utter these words.
Poor to death? What is he looking for? Gold and silver treasures?
Do you need to care about that after killing Jurchen people?
"Benefactor," the old man said with a trembling voice, kneeling and kowtowing with his grandson.
But the young man got up and walked away.
"You all should leave quickly," he said. "I don't have the time, nor the means, to escort you to a safe place."
Without waiting for the old man and the women to say anything more, he dashed into the night, disappearing as quickly as he had arrived.
Had it not been for the Jurchen lying on the ground, everyone would have doubted it was all but a dream.
"Who is he?" a woman asked through her tears.
To say he was a government soldier, but acting alone and daringly fighting against twelve alone, no such soldier had ever been seen.
If government soldiers were all so capable, Kaide Prefecture wouldn't have fallen to such a state.
The old man thought hazily of the first words the young man had uttered when he appeared.
"He said, he's a woodcutter," he murmured to himself.
Could a mere woodcutter in the countryside be so formidable?
***************************************
Thank you to San Gu San Ming and 11 pages for the renowned generous reward of He's Bi.
Monday may not be pleasant, but still, let's strive on, fight on!