Daqin Zhentiansi

Chapter 1130 Are you going to take in the old guy?

Han Xiao ordered his men to pull the arrows from the corpses, wipe the blood off them, and continue using them.

Some arrowheads were bent, so he had them straightened before using them.

If you can't straighten it, sharpen it and use it as a short spear.

When Tuoba Shan's short spear pierced the demon ape's back, Han Xiao was leading the last few dozen swordsmen and axemen guarding the canyon entrance.

His scimitar had already been bent three times.

The one I have in my hand now was picked up from the side of a fallen comrade.

The hilt of the knife was still wrapped with the red cloth strip that the man was used to using.

He looked up and saw the white frost battle flag, and saw the hundred-foot-tall war beast rolling over the hillside. He paused for a moment, then grinned.

He laughed loudly, his laughter echoing through the canyon: "I knew it! I knew someone would come!"

He shoved his scimitar into the ground, turned, and shouted into the depths of the canyon, "Pack your things! Go home!"

Deep in the canyon, the remaining soldiers, who had been hidden behind the carcasses of horses, slowly stood up.

They were covered in blood, their faces were covered in mud, and their eyes were red and swollen, making it impossible to tell whether they had been staying up all night or crying.

But they stood up and began to help the wounded and gather the remaining supplies.

A cavalryman with a broken leg, using a broken spear as a crutch, limped up to Han Xiao and asked, "Commander, who's here?"

Han Xiao patted him on the shoulder, pointed to the White Frost battle flag fluttering in the wind at the mouth of the canyon, and said only two words: "White Frost".

The cavalryman with the broken leg stared at the flag for a long time, then slammed his broken spear on the ground and grinned.

His teeth were covered in blood, and his smile looked worse than a grimace, but he was definitely smiling.

"I thought I was going to die here."

"Die my ass." Han Xiao kicked him. "I haven't even become a general yet, what do you mean 'die'?"

The following morning, the old commander of Fufeng Camp in the southwest led several hundred men out of the abandoned mine.

The old camp leader was named Xue Yan. His hair was so white it shone, and the wrinkles on his face were as if they had been carved by a knife.

He is 64 years old this year and is one of the most senior battalion commanders in Fufeng Battalion.

He brought a thousand men with him for this hunt, but now only a little over three hundred remain.

He crawled out of the mine entrance and squinted to adjust to the light outside.

Then he saw the entrance to the mine piled high with the corpses of monsters.

The iron-backed lizard's bony plates were split in two, the gray-maned wolf's neck was severed, and the purple-eyed ape's head was smashed. The corpses were piled up in layers, like a small mountain.

The black blood pooled on the ground, forming puddles that were ankle-deep when stepped on.

He glanced again at the Frost Warriors arrayed in front of him.

The soldiers' armor gleamed with a dull luster in the sunlight.

The array was so neat it looked as if it had been measured with a ruler.

The shields of the heavily armed soldiers in the front row were held upright in front of them, with battle patterns engraved on the shields, the patterns gleaming faintly in the sunlight.

The spears in the middle row pointed diagonally to the sky, their tips gleaming coldly.

The archers in the back row had already sheathed their bows and were squatting on the ground pulling arrows from the monster's corpse. The arrows were soaked in blood and made a "plop" sound when they were pulled out.

He stared at it for a long time.

Then he said something to his deputy.

The voice was calm, so calm that it didn't sound like someone who had just crawled out of a mine.

"I've been a hunter my whole life, and I've never seen anything like this."

The deputy remained silent.

He followed Xue Yan in Fufeng Camp for twenty years, witnessing every tough battle Xue Yan fought and praising other soldiers.

But when Xue Yan praised other people's soldiers, he would at most say "not bad".

Today he said, "I've never seen anything like this before."

Xue Yan walked up to Zhang Yuan and clasped his hands in a fist salute.

He didn't say much polite talk, he just asked, "Do you take in old guys?"

Zhang Yuan looked at him and said, "If you can handle a weapon, then put it away." Xue Yan smiled, turned around, and shouted into the mine, "Come out, everyone. No need to hide anymore."

More than 300 people emerged from the mine one after another.

They were dressed in rags, their faces blackened by the soot from the mine.

The weapons in his hands were a variety of different kinds.

Some people were carrying pickaxes, some were carrying sharpened iron bars, and some didn't even have any weapons, just holding a stone the size of a millstone.

But when they came out, there was no dejection in their eyes.

They saw the battlefield outside the mine.

The corpses of monsters were piled up like small mountains, while the White Frost warriors stood in gleaming armor, their ranks imposing.

They knew they were saved.

A boy about the same age as Yan Xiaoshi emerged from the mine shaft. Upon seeing the scene outside, his pickaxe fell to the ground with a clatter.

He stared, mouth agape, at the corpses of the monsters, then at the soldiers in their gleaming armor, and after a long pause, finally managed to utter, "Are these our people?"

An old soldier next to him patted him on the back of the head: "Nonsense, if he's not one of us, whose is he?"

The boy rubbed the back of his head and asked, "How are they so powerful?"

The veteran thought for a moment and said, "I fucking want to know too."

By the evening of the third day, most of the hunting teams scattered throughout the Jiuling Mountains had been gathered together.

The Swift Wind Camp to the south, the Wind-Supporting Camp to the southwest, the Flowing Cloud Village hunting team to the east, and several other small clan groups gradually joined the camp.

Including the remnants of Liuyun Village and Shilei Fort that were previously gathered, plus the three thousand members of the Baishuang clan, the camp now has nearly twenty thousand people.

The speed at which people from all walks of life gathered was even faster than Zhang Yuan had anticipated.

The monsters' reactions were always a beat slower than theirs.

The Wolf King was still keeping an eye on the 30,000 reinforcements at the entrance of the North Valley, and had no time to redeploy his troops back to defend the area.

Zhang Yuan stood at the camp entrance, watching one group after another march from the wasteland.

Those people were dressed in rags, their faces covered in blood. Some were carried on stretchers, while others used broken spears as walking sticks.

But their eyes are bright.

As they passed the camp gate, they would unconsciously look at the white frost battle flag planted on the drill ground.

Then their steps will quicken and their backs will straighten.

Zhang Yuan didn't speak, he just watched.

Tuoba Shan stood beside him and said, "Senior, we brought back three more today."

"Ah."

"There's another small team to the west. Han Zheng's scouts are making contact, and they should be able to pick them up tomorrow."

"Ah."

Tuoba Shan was silent for a moment, then said, "They said thank you."

Zhang Yuan turned to look at him: "Who said that?"

"Those who were rescued. They asked me to thank you."

Zhang Yuan did not answer.

He turned back and looked at the gray horizon in the distance.

The purplish-black demonic energy surged on the horizon, like a hand closing in.

“We’ll continue tomorrow,” he said.

Of course, there are also hunting teams that are simply impossible to find.

Yan He said that a total of fifteen hunting teams came to the Canglang Plains for this hunt.

Eleven groups have now been gathered in the camp, along with three thousand members of the Bai Shuang remnant clan, totaling less than twenty thousand people.

The other four hunting teams, Han Zheng's scouts searched the north and south of Jiuling Mountain, but only found a few charred flags and broken armor scattered among the rocks.

One of the flags belonged to the Fufeng Camp; its surface had been chewed to pieces by the monsters, leaving only half of the flagpole stuck in the mud. (End of Chapter)