Chapter 44: Heavenly Thunder and Earthly Fire!

"Achoo!"

Lin Chuan crouched in the bushes, unable to suppress a sneeze.

"Hush—!"

A combat soldier whipped his head around, his eyes flashing with a fierce intent to kill.

Recognizing Lin Chuan, the young face instantly froze, a trace of panic flashing through his eyes.

"Not bad, Tiedan," Lin Chuan nodded approvingly. "There will be a reward when we return."

Wang Tiedan's dark face instantly flushed crimson.

He was Widow Wang's only son, and at this moment, his lips were trembling with excitement.

"Th-Thank you, Platoon Leader!"

The surrounding soldiers looked at each other in utter confusion.

A platoon leader sneezed, got reprimanded by a rookie, and was actually going to give a reward?

What kind of logic was that?

On both sides of the valley entrance, more than thirty soldiers were lying in ambush.

Sharp arrowhead tips glinted coldly in the sunlight.

Further away, auxiliary soldiers led warhorses deep into the forest, their hooves tightly wrapped in strips of cloth.

Hu Dabiao and his personal guards stood guard at the crucial bottleneck of the valley.

The air was filled with the fresh fragrance of grass and trees, yet it could not mask the tense and murderous atmosphere.

Lin Chuan touched the flint in his waist, his piercing gaze locked on the valley entrance.

"Remember," he whispered to Zhang Xiaonian beside him, "wait until the very last Tartar enters the valley before lighting the fire."

"Un—un, un, un—"

Zhang Xiaonian nodded vigorously, pursing his lips and making a soft humming sound.

Lin Chuan pressed down on his head, stopping him from humming any further.

"Platoon Leader!" Hu Dayong dashed down the hillside with Wang Tiezhu, running at full speed. "The Tartars are heading back!"

Lin Chuan grabbed his shoulder. "How many?"

"A hundred riders!" Hu Dayong's chest heaved violently, his eyes shining with excitement. "They're pulling five carts packed to the brim! They've also tied up a string of female captives!"

"Ha!" Lin Chuan's mouth split into a grin. "Did they just wipe out Squire Zhang's estate?"

He turned to the ambushing soldiers and lowered his voice, "Brothers, the Tartars are delivering gifts right to our doorstep!"

Suppressed laughter rippled through the bushes.

"Pass the order!" Lin Chuan's voice suddenly dropped, "Light the fires upon the whistle!"

"Pass it on, light the fires upon the whistle!"

"Pass it on, whistle..."

The whispers spread like ripples among the ambushers.

Time seemed to stretch, every single second becoming exceptionally clear.

Finally, dust rose along the distant mountain trail.

First appeared three scout cavalrymen, wandering lazily, clearly completely unguarded about the return journey.

A hundred paces behind them, a centurion strutted at the very front of the procession, putting on airs.

Behind him rode the cavalrymen in twos and threes abreast, occasionally bursting into crude laughter.

Five heavy carts creaked and groaned, loaded down with silks, satins, grains, provisions, and several chests of gold and silver jewelry.

At the very rear, more than twenty female captives were bound together by a hemp rope, stumbling along in a line.

Some had their clothes disheveled, others bore blood on their faces, but all bit their lips tightly, not daring to cry out.

The entire column stretched out for over a hundred meters like a long dragon, slowly winding its way into the mouth of Gourd Valley.

Lin Chuan narrowed his eyes and pulled out his flint.

The Tartars' procession advanced slowly.

The scouts at the very front were about to clear the valley exit.

The centurion was shouting loudly at the top of his lungs, drawing raucous laughter from the cavalry behind him.

The sound of cart wheels crushing gravel and the suppressed sobs of the female captives were exceptionally clear in the silent valley.

"Wait a little longer..."

Lin Chuan stared fixedly at the carts at the tail end of the procession.

There were still three Tartars walking beside the carts.

If he waited until the carts entered further, most of those female captives would be blown to pieces as well.

He patted Zhang Xiaonian and gestured to Eryou not far away.

Suddenly, a Tartar cavalryman reined in his horse, casting a suspicious glance toward the slopes on both sides.

Lin Chuan's heart tightened.

The man was looking straight at the bushes where Wang Tiedan was hiding!

"Awooo—!"

At the very critical moment, a long, drawn-out howl of a wolf echoed from afar.

The cavalryman let out a breath of relief, muttered a string of curses, and continued forward.

"Phew..."

Lin Chuan slowly exhaled a foul breath, his gaze sweeping over the Tartar procession like a blade.

It was time!

"Shrrrr—!"

A piercing whistle shattered the stillness of the sky!

In an instant, dozens of fuses were lit simultaneously, sparks darting like venomous snakes toward the buried stone mines.

At the same time, Zhang Xiaonian and Eryou drew their bows and notched their arrows, aiming at the Tartars beside the carts.

Hearing the whistle, some Tartars instinctively grabbed for their sword hilts.

Before they could even draw their blades—

One Tartar suddenly felt his body lift into the air.

Within his field of vision, several companions around him, along with their mount warhorses, became horribly distorted.

The next instant, his consciousness was reduced to nothing but a deafening roar.

"Boom!"

The first explosion detonated in the middle of the procession.

The shockwave swept across like a giant hammer, tearing the three closest cavalrymen and their horses to shreds, tossing them high into mid-air.

Before the shattered remains even fell back down, the chain explosions followed one after another!

"Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom!"

Countless bodies disintegrated and shattered amidst the roars, flesh and blood flying through the air.

The Tartar cavalry beside the carts desperately tried to control their terrified, panicked horses, but before they could steady them, they were pierced into hedgehogs by a volley of arrows.

Firelight flashed across Pang Dabiao's field of vision.

He instinctively shrank his neck, his pupils contracting sharply as they reflected a scene straight out of purgatory.

The entire Gourd Valley had turned into a living hell.

The frantic neighs of warhorses rose and fell, blending with the agonizing screams of men.

Iron shrapnel whistled through human bodies, stirring up a bloody storm within the cavalry ranks.

Some Tartars miraculously escaped the explosion, only to have their eyes pierced by flying iron fragments, rolling on the ground while clutching their faces.

Terrified warhorses trampled one another, breaking the bones of the dismounted cavalrymen.

Smoke and dust filled the valley floor, with flames soaring into the skies.

The stench of blood mixed with gunpowder, creating a nauseating aura of death within the valley.

"Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang—"

The twanging of bowstrings sounded like the whispers of the Grim Reaper, one after another.

The soldiers who had been lying in ambush for so long emerged from behind the rock faces.

Another wave of arrow rain poured down, pinning the Tartars who had managed to escape the explosions onto the ground.

Hu Dayong's battle saber flashed with a cold light: "Leave none alive!"

The massacre officially began.

"Kill—!"

Earth-shattering battle cries echoed throughout the valley.

The combat soldiers of Iron Forest Fortress surged down the mountain like fierce tigers, pouncing upon the surviving Tartar cavalry.

The centurion lay flat on his back in a pool of blood, his only remaining leg twitching spasmodically.

He watched helplessly as a freckle-faced young soldier charged over gleefully, the saber in his hand flashing coldly in the sunlight.

"Haha, he's mine!"

Goudan swung his blade down, and the centurion's head went flying into the air.

He grabbed the braided queue and hoisted the still-dripping head high.

"I just hacked an officer!"

"Damn it! That was a centurion!"

One-eyed Dragon stomped his foot in frustration, turning to pounce on another struggling Tartar. "This one's mine!"

The battlefield had transformed into a slaughterhouse.

The surviving Tartars were either blasted out of their wits or scared out of their minds.

They collapsed onto the ground, their eyes vacant, muttering incoherently as if praying for mercy from the heavens.

The soldiers brought their blades down; a flash of steel meant another head hitting the ground.

Any occasional resistance was merely worth the effort of another slash.

These prairie warriors were witnessing such terrifying thunder and fire from heaven for the very first time in their lives.

They knelt on the ground, kowtowing incessantly toward the sky, believing they had provoked the Eternal Sky to bring down such apocalyptic destruction.

Where was there any courage left to resist?

On the other side, Pang Dabiao and his ten personal guards stood frozen in absolute shock.

"Company Commander! Do we charge in or not?"

A personal guard shouted at the top of his lungs.