Chapter Four: Setting the Mountain Ablaze

The soldiers quickly rushed forward, surrounding the young man so tightly that not even water could seep through. Each wielded their weapons, hacking, slashing, stabbing—all with deadly intent. The young man swung his iron staff in a wide arc.

The wind howled, and soon after, a cacophony of clangs and crashes erupted. In the blink of an eye, the soldiers’ blades were sent flying into the air. Terrified, they cried out for their mothers and scattered in all directions, only to be blocked by their officer.

“Useless fools!” the officer cursed, brandishing his saber. “Back to the fight! Anyone who retreats will be executed on the spot!” Seeing their hesitation and fear, he scolded them again: “You idiots! Can’t you see this brat relies solely on brute strength? If we avoid his power and use skill against him, why should we fear him?”

“Follow me!” he commanded, and charged at the young man once more. This time, he did not confront the youth head-on, but circled behind him, attacking from below. His saber moved swiftly and sharply, slashing at the young man’s feet. Though the youth was tall and strong, the officer’s blade was quick, and bending down to fight was awkward for him. Soon, he was panting with exhaustion.

The surrounding soldiers saw a chance and closed in, launching their own deadly attacks while the young man was off guard. He hurriedly swung his iron staff at them, but those in front retreated as soon as the staff approached, while those behind pressed forward. He could only fend off those before him, leaving his rear exposed; when he guarded his back, he could not defend the front. He was overwhelmed and in chaos. The officer’s saber, unpredictable and sly, made defense nearly impossible, pushing the young man to the brink of disaster.

Enraged, the youth shouted, “You dog soldiers, you thieving cowards! Stop dodging and sneaking up from behind. Fight me openly—come take three hundred blows from my staff, if you dare!”

Before he could finish, he cried out in pain—a slash from the officer had struck his foot, blood gushing forth. Fortunately, his skin was tough and his flesh thick; though injured, his strength did not wane, and he continued to struggle.

Hidden in the grass, Ye Feng saw all clearly. He knew the young man could not hold out much longer and thought, “This honest and lovable warrior—how tragic if he’s slain by these soldiers! Besides, if he falls, the enemy will set the mountain ablaze, and I, Ye Feng, will surely perish as well. Better to step out, draw away the soldiers, and save him.”

Having made up his mind, Ye Feng stood up and shouted, “You dog soldiers, I, Ye Feng, am here! Come catch me for your reward!” With that, he ran up the mountain.

The officer saw Ye Feng fleeing and grew frantic. “That brat is escaping! I’ll tie up this brute here—go catch him!” He quickened his attacks, forcing the young man to retreat in disorder, nearly losing his grip on his staff. Seizing the opportunity, the soldiers broke off their encirclement and all chased after Ye Feng.

Freed from much of the burden, the young man wielded his iron staff with renewed vigor, matching the officer blow for blow.

Meanwhile, the soldiers quickly caught up with Ye Feng and surrounded him, ready to seize him. Seeing their numbers and realizing resistance was futile, Ye Feng slipped into a thick patch of grass, deeper than a man’s height. The soldiers, eager for glory, scrambled after him, searching through the grass.

Within the thicket, Ye Feng saw many soldiers pursuing him. He thought, “This is dire—I must be careful!” He pricked up his ears and listened intently. When he heard the grass rustling near him, he darted away to another spot. The soldiers, hearing the rustling, could not tell friend from foe. By the time they realized and gave chase, they were always a step too late—sometimes tackling their own comrades, sometimes grabbing only air.

The thicket became a chaotic mess, like a pot of boiling porridge. Yet despite their efforts, they could not even touch Ye Feng’s sleeve.

Just as Ye Feng was feeling triumphant, he suddenly heard a voice from above: “Brothers, listen to me—this brat has escaped to the southeast!” The shout struck terror into Ye Feng’s heart. He saw, as the voice echoed, grass rustled all around, as if countless venomous snakes were about to spring forth.

It turned out that one soldier, unable to catch Ye Feng, had climbed halfway up the mountain to observe from above. From that vantage, though he could only see where the grass moved, he could distinguish friend from foe—those escaping acted differently from those pursuing.

Realizing he could not evade the observer’s gaze, Ye Feng ran desperately northward. “He’s escaping! That Ye brat is running north!” The soldiers in the grass heard the call and chased after him.

Ye Feng, hearing the shouts, grew more anxious. He sped up, paying no heed to the thorns, plunging wherever the path was hardest. This tormented the soldiers, who soon emerged from the thicket, their skin torn and bloodied.

After a while, one soldier crawled out of the thorny brush, wiped sweat, grass, and blood from his face, and panted angrily, “Brothers, stop chasing him! If he seeks death, let him have it. Surround him, set the grass ablaze, and burn the bastard alive!”

The soldiers, hearing this, scattered from the thicket and encircled Ye Feng completely, guarding every exit with blades and spears. One soldier struck a fire and tossed it into the grass.

Instantly, the grass ignited, flames roaring skyward. The heat swept through the entire thicket, reddening the soldiers’ faces so much they dared not approach. They stood back, watching the crackling fire and laughing in triumph.

Suddenly, a green light streaked through the air like lightning, piercing the back of a soldier and emerging from his chest. With a scream, he fell, blood gushing from his back.

The other soldiers turned, alarmed, toward the source of the green light. From the sky descended a maiden in azure, who summoned the green light back to her hand—a chillingly cold green sword.

This maiden was the very girl from Black Earth City, harassed by those two demonic soldiers!

Ye Feng, trapped in the grass, saw clearly. In this moment of life and death, he was overjoyed and shouted, “Miss, save me!”

He now realized—the two demonic soldiers he killed yesterday, and the flying sword at the city gate this morning—were all her doing. But how had she tracked him here?

After slaying the city gate guard with her sword that morning, she had seen the patrol chase Ye Feng and, worried for him, followed out of the city. She avoided attracting attention, and only when she reached a deserted spot did she summon her sword and fly into the air. This delay cost her the trail of the patrol. Luckily, from above, she searched and eventually found Ye Feng’s dead white horse. In fact, that dead horse was how the patrol found Ye Feng’s hiding place in the mountains.

The maiden, seeing the mountain nearby, guessed Ye Feng must be hiding within, and so pursued closely. She arrived just as the soldiers were about to burn Ye Feng alive.

Unable to approach through the flames, she did not panic. With a gentle smile, she closed her eyes, forming mystical gestures with her fingers, pointing to her own forehead. Her brows knit in concentration, sweat beaded on her brow. Soon, a powerful current surged from her, growing into a wave that made the trees and grass shake violently. Sand and stones flew, and the flames leapt higher.

As Ye Feng stood bewildered, she suddenly opened her eyes angrily and, with a spirited shout, swept her arms forward. The wave of energy struck the flames and grass, shattering them into dust that floated into the air.

The fire vanished, revealing only ashes, a scene of devastation. Ye Feng was now pitch-black, as if he had crawled from the bottom of a stove. But he cared nothing for his appearance, and immediately leapt from the grass, bowing deeply, “Thank you, Miss, for saving my life again!”

The maiden saw Ye Feng’s soot-black face, with only his bright eyes blinking up at her in his awkward state, and could not help but laugh, covering her mouth.

She was about to help Ye Feng up when a shout rang out from below the mountain, “Sister, come help me!” Ye Feng turned to see the officer’s saber moving faster, forcing the burly warrior into disarray. Taking advantage of the warrior’s retreat, the officer sheathed his saber and turned to flee.

He had seen the maiden’s formidable power and was terrified, now desperate to escape. His movements were swift; in an instant, he reached his horse and vaulted onto its back. Just as he was about to spur it forward, the maiden swept down and landed before the horse.

Seeing her speed, the officer broke out in cold sweat, hurriedly turning the horse to flee in the opposite direction. Yet, the maiden’s figure seemed not to move, but she vanished and reappeared instantly in front of his mount.

Her expression icy, she commanded, “Dog servant, dismount and accept your fate!”

The officer’s soul seemed to fly from his body. He turned his horse again, preparing to flee, but no matter how he tried, the maiden was always in front of him—her speed uncanny, like a ghost.

Terrified, he collapsed, falling from his horse with a thud. “Immortal Lady, spare me, spare me!” he cried, kneeling and kowtowing as if pounding garlic.