Daqin Zhentiansi

Chapter 1120 If you miss, you'll die.

When the camps were divided, Zhang Yuan stood in the middle of the drill ground.

There were people all around.

The warriors of the White Frost Clan, the remnants of the Flowing Cloud Village, the light cavalry of the Gale Camp, the heavy infantry of the Stone Fortress, and the hunters of those smaller tribes.

They were not in orderly ranks, nor were they dressed in uniform armor; some even had bandages wrapped around their bodies.

But they were all looking at Zhang Yuan.

The Left Camp was led by Tuoba Tie, with the original troops of the Bai Shuang clan as its backbone.

They were the best equipped and most trained, and were responsible for the front line of defense.

The left battalion has two thousand men, divided into four brigades, each of which has five hundred-man squads.

Tuoba Tie stood at the forefront of the left camp, a heavy axe slung over his shoulder, the blade still stained with the wolf blood from the morning.

Behind him were Ayan's line of soldiers and Amu's archer battalion.

These two units cooperated best in the previous valley rescue battle, and Zhang Yuan organized them into the direct subordinate battalion of the Left Battalion.

The right battalion was led by Meng Yuan, with the remnants of the Shilei Fort's heavy infantry as its base, supplemented by hunters from Liuyun Village and other small tribes.

Although their weapons were of varying quality, the basic shield formation of the Stone Fortress was still intact.

Zhang Yuan prioritized distributing the monster bone plates he salvaged from the battlefield to the Right Battalion, and had Tuoba Gu engrave power-gathering patterns on the shields.

Meng Yuan stood in front of the right battalion, holding a newly reinforced iron shield with two battle patterns engraved on its surface.

He looked at his remaining soldiers, some still wrapped in bandages, others using broken spears as canes.

But their eyes are different from yesterday.

Yesterday, those were eyes waiting to die; today, they are eyes determined to live.

The central camp was commanded by Han Zheng, and consisted of a mix of light cavalry from the Gale Camp and scouts from the Flowing Cloud Village.

This team is not responsible for the frontal defense, but for mobile support and perimeter reconnaissance.

Han Zheng's left arm bandage had been replaced with a new one, but he had switched his scimitar from his right hand to his left, and was getting used to the angle of the scimitar with his left hand.

Although his light cavalry had suffered more than half losses, the remaining soldiers were all veterans with rich experience.

The scouts of Liuyun Village have been active in this mountain forest for many years and know the terrain like the back of their hand.

Zhang Yuan grouped the two groups together and had them cooperate with each other.

Scouts explored the area ahead, while light cavalry provided support from behind.

Logistics were overseen by Yan He.

The chieftain of Liuyun Village had spent his entire life hunting. He could tell at a glance what kind of animal hides could be tanned into armor and what kind of animal bones could be used to make arrowheads.

Zhang Yuan incorporated all the craftsmen, women, and wounded soldiers who were still able to walk into the logistics team.

The workshop was located deep within the camp, with the furnace burning day and night.

Several young men were sharpening knives by the training ground.

Yan Qing squatted in front of a whetstone, having spent most of the hour sharpening the dull blade in his hand.

The serrated notches on the blade were not completely smoothed out, and deep grooves were carved into the whetstone.

He gritted his teeth and ground it down, bit by bit.

His forehead was covered in sweat.

Beside him, a soldier from the White Frost Clan, not much older than him, glanced at him and said, "Don't just sharpen one spot; make sure the blade is even. If you sharpen it like this, it'll curl up again after a couple of cuts."

Yan Qing looked up, paused for a moment, and then nodded.

The soldier walked over, squatted down next to him, took his knife, and found a new angle on the whetstone.

His hand was steady, and each push went a long way, the blade making a rustling sound on the stone surface.

What's your name?

"Yan Qing."

"My name is Ayan. You saw the one who was charging at the front just now? That's our commander."

Yan Qing glanced at Tuoba Tie, who was carrying a heavy axe in the distance, and nodded.

Ayan flipped the knife over and continued sharpening: "First time in battle?"

"Ah."

Are you scared?

Yan Qing was silent for a moment, then said, "I'm scared."

Ayan didn't laugh at him. He raised the knife, examined the curve of the blade against the sunlight, and then handed it back to Yan Qing: "It's good that you're afraid. Those who aren't afraid die the fastest."

Yan Qing took the knife and held it in his hand.

The blade is much shinier than before.

“Remember,” Ayan stood up and patted him on the shoulder, “don’t close your eyes when you’re cutting. If you close your eyes, you won’t be able to hit your target. If you miss, you’ll die.”

Yan Qing gripped the knife so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

The first probing attack came on the afternoon the formation was completed.

A group of purple-eyed pythons arrived.

There were about two hundred of them, none of them very big, each only as thick as an arm, and they slid down the north slope silently.

Their scales are deep purple, gleaming eerily in the afternoon sunlight.

His pupils, like two purple glass beads, coldly scanned the camp ahead.

As the pythons glided across the gravelly ground, they made almost no sound, leaving only trails of wet, sticky fluid on the stones.

The mucus reflected the sunlight, like strands of silver threads.

Their methods of action are very covert.

Instead of charging down all at once, they split into more than a dozen groups, bypassing the rocks and bushes from different directions, trying to avoid the scouts' sight.

But Han Zheng's scouts spotted them halfway up the mountain.

An old scout from Liuyun Village, lying behind a rock, heard the sound of python scales scraping against gravel.

It was an extremely fine and dense rustling sound, like the autumn wind blowing through withered leaves.

He didn't peer over; he simply pressed his fingers on the ground to feel the frequency of the vibrations.

The vibration rhythm is wrong.

It wasn't blown by the wind.

Something is crawling.

He turned and gestured to his companions behind him.

A smoke signal was lit, and a column of grayish-white smoke rose straight into the air, lingering in the wind.

Upon seeing the smoke signals from the central command tent, Zhang Yuan only said one sentence: "Two hundred-man squads from the left flank, in a triangular formation. A swift and decisive victory."

Tuoba Tie accepted the order and left.

His two hundred-man squads filed out from the north of the camp, forming a triangular formation on the hillside.

The front ranks of heavy troops held the line, their iron shields raised and interlocked to form an iron wall.

The spears in the middle row thrust out diagonally from the gaps in the shields, their tips gleaming coldly in the sunlight.

The crossbowmen in the rear followed sideways, their crossbows already cocked, arrows pointing towards the hillside.

The entire formation change took only ten breaths.

Two hundred people completed the transformation from a marching column to a battle formation while running.

The purple-eyed python had just slid halfway down the mountain when it was completely blocked.

Tuoba Tie was at the very front.

He was the first to charge into the swarm of pythons, raising his heavy axe high into the air.

The energy-gathering pattern on the axe blade suddenly lit up, and golden light flowed along the blade.

He swung his axe down, striking the first python squarely on the head.

"Snap—"

The energy-gathering pattern exploded, creating a visible shockwave.

The python's head was split open, and purplish-black snake blood and brain matter spurted out, splashing onto the nearby rubble and hissing white smoke.

The blast wave overturned two small pythons that were about to launch a sneak attack, throwing them more than ten feet away and slamming them heavily onto the rocks.

"kill!"

Two hundred people pressed down on them simultaneously.

The front line of heavy troops held off the swarm of pythons head-on.

A purple-eyed python darted up from the side, its mouth snapping shut on the edge of an iron shield, its fangs scraping against the metal with a piercing crunch. (End of Chapter)