Chapter 57: The Army of Mons

Not far from Shixia Village, a sprawling camp was being rapidly erected in the open fields, with countless soldiers streaming back and forth like a ceaseless current. Within the village itself, squads of soldiers began patrolling the lanes and requisitioning the villagers’ surplus grain, their clamor and shouts echoing throughout the settlement. The finest house, once home to the village elders, had already been commandeered; several finely dressed men, flanked by guards, quickly entered the building.

The leader, a middle-aged man with white eyebrows, surveyed the place with a discerning gaze, nodded, and said, “It is reasonably clean here. To find such a place in this wilderness is no small fortune.”

Beside him, a brawny man in black armor chuckled, “You are absolutely right, Lord Kang. The march has been relentless, and the men are exhausted. This place is a welcome respite.”

“But the women here are too rough, all dark and coarse—there’s not the slightest bit of appeal,” he added crudely.

No sooner had these words left his mouth than the young man in white robes frowned and sneered, “Do you think this is the Pleasure House of the Kingdom? We are here to train the troops, not for your base pleasures.”

“So what if we’re here for training?” the brawny man retorted. “Our warriors fight and bleed—should they not be allowed to relax? When has it ever been different? Listen, Baishan, your methods won’t work here. If you want results, follow my lead.”

He pursed his lips disdainfully, clearly at odds with the young man.

“You’re undermining military discipline!” the youth in white rebuked with a glare. “My lord, we are the Kingdom’s regulars, not rabble bandits. Without order, how can we fight a real battle?”

He quickly realized, however, that among the other officers in the room, none but himself looked concerned. Turning anxiously to General Kang, he awaited his response.

Their force, sent by the Mons Kingdom for this trial, numbered five thousand. General Kang, the chief commander, held the rank of roving general and oversaw five deputy generals—these very men. Each commanded a thousand men, with two captains under each, and every captain led five companies of a hundred soldiers apiece.

Thus, General Kang’s attitude would determine the Kingdom’s stance as a whole.

“Enough, stop your bickering,” General Kang interrupted with a frown, putting the dispute to rest for now. He continued, “The Tyanya Stronghold we supported suffered a mysterious attack and is now all but destroyed. We lack concrete support here, so caution must be our watchword.”

“Baishan’s concerns have merit. We have only just arrived and do not yet know the lay of the land. Keep your men in check—no incidents are to arise.”

“However, this place is indeed different from the outside world. Baishan, you are now in the Qilian Mountains. You must abide by their rules—don’t be overly harsh with the soldiers, understood?”

General Kang gave each side a measured reprimand. The Mons Kingdom was not a powerful realm; its standing army numbered around forty thousand, and this five-thousand-strong force represented an eighth of its might—newly raised troops under his command, so he could not afford to be careless.

He was well aware that his subordinates’ discord stemmed from contrasting philosophies—one seeking benevolence, the other strict discipline—and also, perhaps, from a desire to impress him. He was content to let the rivalry play out.

“Wang Can,” he ordered, “dispatch scouts at once. According to previous intelligence, we are not far from the Wolf Heart Stronghold supported by the Great Bay Kingdom. There is also the Wolf Fang Stronghold, which is said to have been absorbed by Wolf Heart, though their current status is uncertain.”

By passing over Baishan and Black Halberd for this task and entrusting it to another deputy, General Kang made his intentions clear—this was a test.

“At your command, my lord,” Wang Can replied, grinning broadly at the two disgruntled rivals—a classic case of playing mediator to his own advantage.

Soon, five elite companies under Wang Can’s command were assembled and swiftly dispatched to search the surrounding area under the lead of his captain.

Little did they know, word quickly reached Hu San, who was already on high alert.

Hu San had issued battle orders; the bandits of Wolf Fang Stronghold stood ready, prepared for a bloody fight. Disguised as mountain folk, his spies relayed the Mons force’s movements through various channels.

“The Mons Kingdom has mobilized? Five companies?” Hu San nodded at the news and instructed his underling, “Very well. Go to the accounts room and collect a ten-tael reward.”

“Not sure if they have any martial artists, but by previous reports, each of their five-company groups is led by a captain, and captains are almost always martial artists. Perhaps it’s time to teach them a lesson.”

A glint of ruthlessness flashed in his eyes as he summoned his best-armored and most heavily armed attack squads, sending them in the direction reported by his scouts to intercept the search parties.

Half an hour later, deep within a dense forest, Hu San signaled his squads to fan out, listening intently. “There are several squads here. Wait for my command—when you hear the fighting start, charge.”

With that, he melted into the forest shadows.

Soon, his figure reappeared atop a tall tree in another part of the woods. Below, Mons soldiers strolled along, complacent and unwary, convinced that the mountain bandits of Qilian posed no threat.

Mons Kingdom’s army followed the standard military organization of the world; thus, captains and senior officers wore distinct armor and garb. With a single glance, Hu San picked out two captains clad in leather-inlaid armor. One moved with remarkable agility—clearly a martial artist.

Drawing a long breath, Hu San quietly unshouldered his great bow—unlike any other, forged entirely of iron and twice the size of a typical bow. Its string was black as night, exuding a palpable sense of menace.

This bow had once been a gift from Captain Shi. Originally coveted by the second chieftain, it ended up in Hu San’s hands after the latter’s untimely death; Captain Shi, unable to justify bringing it back, presented it to Hu San during a banquet—having received five hundred gold coins in return.

But Hu San hardly got the worst of the deal. The bow was called the Nine Ox Bow—so named because only those with the strength of nine oxen could draw it.

Even in Great Bay Kingdom, such bows were rare—perhaps no more than fifty in existence. Not that the bows themselves were so precious, but so few could wield them; most served as mere decorations, for the strength required was almost mythical.

Even martial artists, who could enhance their strength through cultivation, found their capabilities limited. Only a few legendary secret manuals could greatly augment physical strength; otherwise, few could make use of the Nine Ox Bow. Even the most skilled could only manage two or three shots before their energy was spent.

Of course, the bow was no trifling expense—its cost alone exceeded five hundred gold coins. Had Captain Shi not been unable to keep it, and had he not gained so much from Hu San, he would never have sold it for that price.

In Hu San’s hands, however, the bow was a perfect match. He possessed the strength of seven men—sufficient to use it—and, with his cultivation at the peak of the third level, the Nine Ox Bow became his regular weapon.

Hu San calmly nocked an iron arrow to the bowstring, taking careful aim at the martial artist captain below. With a gentle release, a streak of black light shot through the air—the captain had no time to react. In the blink of an eye, the arrow pierced his body and armor as if through paper, a burst of blood spraying from the wound.

Only then did the shriek of the arrow tearing through the air ring out, a testament to its incredible speed.

“So effective?” Hu San’s eyes shone with anticipation. “Perhaps I should rely more on archery in the future.”

Without pause, he loosed another arrow, taking the head off the second captain, and then targeted the squad leaders one by one.

By the time the Mons troops realized what was happening, the ground was strewn with corpses. Before they could even locate Hu San, the terrified soldiers fled, only to be encircled and slaughtered by the elite squads lying in wait.

Yet, despite his victory, Hu San’s expression was grim. Rather than satisfaction, he felt a growing unease.

For even surrounded and leaderless, these Mons soldiers fought with such ferocity that they matched his best bandits blow for blow. Had he not intervened himself, they might have broken through his lines.

“When their weapons and armor are inferior, their morale is lower, and they’re outnumbered, yet they manage a casualty ratio of three to one—are all Kingdom soldiers this elite?” he wondered grimly. “If we face them in open battle, will we be routed at a touch?”

Frowning in frustration, he rubbed his brow, left a few bandits to tend the wounded, and led the rest on to reinforce the front.

The sounds of battle had already drawn the attention of the remaining Mons companies—they would arrive soon.

As Hu San expected, within fifteen minutes, the opposing companies clashed head-on—this time, a true face-to-face encounter.