Volume 1, Chapter 23: Three Arrows Strike! The Beacon Fires Rise!

"Squad Leader Wei?"

Zhang Muyang stared at Wei Feng's ferocious face, his pupils contracting slightly. This was no chance encounter; it was a killing trap meticulously laid by Wei Wentong to root him out before he could return to camp.

Wei Feng was naked in the frozen wilderness, white steam rising from his bronze skin as if he housed a furnace within. To be bare-skinned in such bitter cold was ironclad proof of the Bone-Refining Realm. His bones were like tempered steel, and his blood and energy could withstand the harshest elements. Even at the entry level of this realm, his strength exceeded sixteen hundred jin.

And what of himself?

He had only just broken through to the early stage of the Squad Leader Realm. A thousand jin of strength seemed impressive, but before a Bone-Refining expert, it was like a child facing a grown man.

Yet, Zhang Muyang was not in the least bit intimidated.

His right hand quietly reached toward his chest, where a hundred poison-tipped steel needles were hidden. His left wrist was wrapped in a three-edged military dagger, and a flying tiger claw hung concealed at his waist. These lethal weapons from another world were his true source of confidence. If he could get within three feet, he could tear through any defense.

"Die!"

Zhang Muyang dropped his center of gravity and lunged forward like an arrow released from a bowstring. He did not run in a straight line, but darted in a zigzag pattern, leaving a trail of crisscrossing footprints on the snow. This was a tactical maneuver used by special forces to evade snipers; in the age of cold steel, it was a dimension-crushing strike.

A cold smirk played on Wei Feng's lips. His left hand held his massive black-iron bow steady as a rock, while his right fingers drew back the string. The tip of the armor-piercing arrow glinted in the sunlight, locked firmly onto Zhang Muyang’s silhouette. He was waiting—waiting for the perfect moment to strike, the split-second flaw when his prey shifted direction.

*Whoosh...*

The armor-piercing arrow tore through the wind and snow, emitting a sharp whistle as it reached Zhang Muyang in an instant.

*Clang!*

The Cold Feather Blade collided with the arrow tip, sending sparks flying. Zhang Muyang’s thumb-web split, and he stumbled back three steps, a metallic taste of blood rising in his throat. The force of that arrow was even heavier than he had anticipated!

"An ant in the Squad Leader Realm, and you think you’re worthy of receiving three of my arrows?" Wei Feng licked his lips and nocked another arrow.

This shot was faster; the arrow tip rotated, causing the air to hiss. Zhang Muyang’s pupils constricted, and he threw himself into a side roll. He carved a deep trench into the snow, the arrow whistling past his shoulder blade to bury itself into the tree trunk behind him.

*Boom!*

The trunk shattered, wood chips flying everywhere. Zhang Muyang flicked his wrist, and three steel needles shot out like falling stars, aiming straight for Wei Feng’s face. Wei Feng was forced to dodge, throwing his third shot off by half an inch.

It was an utter humiliation!

Wei Feng leaped onto the crown of an ancient locust tree, looking down at Zhang Muyang from above. The bowstring groaned under the immense strain of his strength as he roared, "Can you dodge this?"

The moment the armor-piercing arrow left the string, its rotating tip churned the wind and snow, tearing a visible spiral of air pressure!

Zhang Muyang deliberately exposed a flaw, feigning a loss of balance and stumbling forward. The arrow grazed his back, blasting a three-foot-deep crater into the frozen earth.

"Got you?"

Just as Wei Feng reached to nock another arrow, a black shadow flew toward him.

The flying tiger claw!

The five steel hooks opened in mid-air, precisely snagging Wei Feng’s ankle. Zhang Muyang pulled with all his might—

*Thud!*

Wei Feng fell backward from the ten-foot-tall treetop, his back slamming into the tree roots. He let out a muffled groan, his blood surging. Before he could rise, Zhang Muyang was already upon him, the Cold Feather Blade slashing toward his neck with a frost-laden edge.

*Clang!*

Wei Feng parried in a rush. As the blades met, Zhang Muyang was jolted back half a step, his hand splitting open once more. The strength of the Bone-Refining Realm was truly terrifying!

"Die... for me!"

Wei Feng roared and counterattacked, his long blade sweeping like a storm, the force of it scattering the snow. Zhang Muyang could only block desperately, soon forced against the locust tree with nowhere left to retreat.

At the most critical moment, a hoarse cry pierced the wind and snow: "You dog!"

It was the limping man!

He had somehow snapped his ropes and was now clinging to Wei Feng’s leg, refusing to let go.

"Get off!" Wei Feng tried to charge forward, but the limping man held on with desperate tenacity.

The opportunity had arrived!

Zhang Muyang flicked his wrist, and the three-edged military dagger hidden there flew out, aiming straight for Wei Feng’s throat.

*Clang!*

Wei Feng swiped his blade, knocking the dagger away, and scoffed, "With just that..."

But to his surprise, the dagger curved in mid-air, tracing an arc to precisely slice through Wei Feng’s left arm.

*Sssss—*

Blood sprayed out, glaringly bright against the snow. Wei Feng was incensed, slashing backward at the limping man.

"No!" Zhang Muyang roared.

Alas, he was a step too late. The limping man’s head rolled onto the snow, his eyes still wide open, as if urging him to flee.

Wei Feng stumbled back, his left arm turning a ghastly blue-black. He stared at the blood-stained dagger on Zhang Muyang’s wrist, his voice filled with venom: "Using poison? What a treacherous squad leader!"

Zhang Muyang sneered, pointing his Cold Feather Blade at Wei Feng’s throat. "In these chaotic times, who talks to you about being a gentleman? Today, you will certainly die!"

Wei Feng kicked the limping man’s body aside and swung his long blade, a faint red light flickering along the steel. At that moment, his arm went numb, his vision began to blur, and a strange buzzing sound filled his ears—the monkshood poison was taking effect.

The village entrance was already crowded with villagers. The old clan elder leaned on his cane, his hands trembling. Zhang Xiaobei and Gousheng pulled their bows, but dared not fire for fear of hitting their own. Yang Wenxiu and Yang Wenjuan covered their faces, unable to bear the sight of the bloody slaughter. Only Su Ying, radiating a faint, lingering murderous aura, kept her eyes locked on Wei Feng’s every opening, ready to strike.

*Now!*

Zhang Muyang suddenly shifted, avoiding the edge of Wei Feng’s blade, his Cold Feather Blade tracing three afterimages in the air.

"Overlapping Wave Slash!"

The first strike hit the back of Wei Feng’s blade, numbing his arm. The second strike followed instantly, its power doubling; Wei Feng’s blade was forced upward against his will. The third strike accelerated suddenly, its power increasing fivefold. Like a frost-colored lightning bolt, it dove precisely through the opening exposed by Wei Feng’s raised blade, piercing directly into his heart.

"This... impossible..."

Wei Feng’s pupils dilated, staring in disbelief at the blade in his chest. Blood dripped down the steel, pooling on the snow. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but only spat out a mouthful of blood before collapsing with a crash.

Su Ying walked over and nudged Wei Feng’s corpse with her foot, saying coldly, "If you had missed, I would have finished him."

Zhang Muyang pulled out the Cold Feather Blade, the frost patterns on the blade seeming to shine brighter. He raised an eyebrow and said, "Then you would have been disappointed."

The villagers erupted in thunderous cheers. Yet, upon seeing the corpse of the limping man, the air fell into a heavy silence. The old elder walked over tremblingly and bowed deeply to the body: "Old Lame One, rest in peace. Your vengeance has been served."

*Thud!*

Suddenly, Zhang Xiaobei knelt before Zhang Muyang. "Brother Muyang, teach me hidden weapons! I want to protect the people of this village!"

Gousheng and the other youths knelt as well. "Brother Muyang, teach us!"

*Ding!*

The system notification sounded right on cue:

[Emergency mission complete: Kill Wei Feng]
[Reward: Hidden Weapon Mastery (Accuracy +200%)]
[Skill Unlocked: Pear Blossom in the Rain (Can throw twenty steel needles simultaneously to create a fan-shaped attack zone)]
[Cold Feather Blade Bloodthirst Progress: 20/100]

Zhang Muyang helped Zhang Xiaobei up and said in a deep voice, "You may learn, but remember: hidden weapons are for self-preservation, not for bullying the weak."

"We understand!"

Just then, the sound of urgent hoofbeats arrived from the distance, shattering the silence of the snowfield. A black horse galloped up, the rider barely holding the reins as he shouted, "Soldiers of the Border-Pacifying Army, return to camp immediately! A massive Northern Yan army is pressing upon Zhenbei Pass..."

Before he could finish, a column of wolf-smoke rose into the distant horizon, blindingly stark against the wind and snow.

Everyone was stunned.

Zhang Muyang, a soldier and squad leader of the Border-Pacifying Army, shouted sternly, "You have the time it takes for an incense stick to burn! Pack your things, we return to camp at once!"

"Yes!" the youths echoed, their voices shaking the snow from the treetops.

Han Li ran over and pressed a pouch of freshly brewed antidote into his arms. "Husband, be careful in all things."

Yang Wenxiu and Yang Wenjuan had tear-rimmed eyes as they silently helped him tie on his newly crafted wrist guards.

Zhang Muyang walked to the side of the limping man’s body, knelt on one knee, and reached out to close those wide-open eyes. Snowflakes fell onto the man's face, quickly freezing into tiny ice crystals, like a pale burial shroud.

The villagers gathered in silence, piling up mounds of snow to form a grave. There were no incense candles, so Yang Wenxiu plucked a withered plum branch and stuck it into the grave mound. There was no headstone, so Han Li used an iron nail to carve "Tomb of the Righteous Hero, Lame Zhang" into a tree.

The snow fell harder, quickly burying the bloodstains, but it could not mask the scent of metallic rust. Zhang Muyang decapitated Wei Feng, strapped the dark iron bow and arrows to his back, and took one long, cold look at Han Li, Yang Wenxiu, Yang Wenjuan, and the villagers.

"In this battle, I will make the Northern Yan pay in blood!"

"Let’s go!"

Zhang Muyang, Su Ying, Zhang Xiaobei, Gousheng, and the other youths stepped onto their sleds and glided toward the county town...