Chapter 7: Defeating the Minotaur

Li Mingxing glanced at the approaching minotaur slaves, then looked at the minotaur guard who was nearly worn down by his attacks. He let out a loud roar, “Didn’t you two say you could go head-to-head with the minotaur slaves? Help me hold off two of them.”

At first, the two Great Warrior Tribesmen hesitated, but the glowing circles beneath their feet compelled them to charge toward the minotaur slaves. Meeting them head-on, each tribesman took on a minotaur slave, while the last slave was intercepted by the four battle leopards, giving Li Mingxing enough time to deal with the minotaur guard.

Seeing his subordinates blocked, the minotaur guard bellowed again, but this time his mouth was pierced by Li Mingxing’s scorpion stinger; no matter how he tried, only meaningless sounds escaped him. Understanding that time was short, Li Mingxing swept his scorpion tail, striking the minotaur’s temple with brutal force.

The blow sent the minotaur guard crashing to the ground. Li Mingxing seized the opportunity, sinking his fangs into the minotaur’s head. The guard’s immense weight made his fall formidable, and though Li Mingxing bit down fiercely, he felt only pain in his teeth. The guard collapsed, leaving Li Mingxing with a freshly torn horn clenched in his jaws.

Wasting no time, Li Mingxing’s scorpion tail flashed like lightning, driving the stinger deep into the raw socket where the horn had been ripped out, twisting relentlessly. The fallen minotaur guard howled in agony, but the cries soon faded. When Li Mingxing looked up, he saw the guard lying motionless, eyes wide open, while a few soul coins bearing minotaur images rolled beside him.

Li Mingxing understood that the most formidable enemy—the minotaur guard—had been slain by his own hand. But there was no time for relief; the remaining minotaur slaves were still charging forward. Around Li Mingxing, only eighteen battle leopards survived, along with a harpy and two Great Warrior Tribesmen. Although the harpy continued her assurances, Li Mingxing had no faith the tribesmen could hold off the minotaur slaves for long. He needed to eliminate one as quickly as possible.

Without hesitation, he pounced at one of the minotaur slaves, driving his scorpion tail into the creature’s eye. Having depleted his venom on the guard, the stinger only blinded the minotaur, but that was enough. In a flash, three battle leopards leapt on the slave—two seizing its arms, the third lunging for its throat.

The Great Warrior Tribesman locked in combat nearby saw the opportunity. Abandoning his opponent, he swung his massive axe at the minotaur’s neck, the one Li Mingxing had immobilized. Though Li Mingxing disliked such initiative, the blow was perfectly timed—the axe cleaved half the minotaur slave’s head off, ending its life instantly.

Li Mingxing shot a glance at the jubilant tribesman and immediately turned to the minotaur slave the man had abandoned. The tribesman, catching Li Mingxing’s look, stopped celebrating and followed close behind, ready to seize another opening.

Li Mingxing knew exactly what the tribesman was up to and didn’t bother to comment. The battle leopards understood too; four of them pounced, clamping onto the minotaur’s hands and feet. The tribesman then rushed forward, bringing his axe down and severing the slave’s head.

With this tactic, the last minotaur slave was quickly dispatched. Li Mingxing sent his elite thieves to loot the corpses, while the two Great Warrior Tribesmen took the opportunity to smear themselves with minotaur blood.

Li Mingxing watched with some annoyance, but the harpy explained, “It’s their custom. They cover themselves with the spoils they claim to show their strength. The green stains are from vegetable juice they grow themselves; red means they’ve shed blood.”

Hearing this, Li Mingxing cast another glance at the tribesmen. “I don’t care whose blood it is. When the next wave of minotaurs arrives, they’d better be ready to stand in front.”

As he spoke, another group of minotaur slaves appeared. Seeing their fallen brethren from afar, fury flared in their eyes, one of them breaking into a run. Li Mingxing noticed the chainmail on this one and shouted, “That’s not a slave, that’s a minotaur warrior!”

But the two excited tribesmen didn’t notice his warning. Seeing the battle leopards charging, they followed suit. They had just engaged when the minotaur warrior broke through the leopards’ attacks and confronted them head-on.

The opportunistic tribesman who had earlier seized an easy kill retreated in fear, while the other, who had fought from the start, stepped forward. This split-second difference decided their fates: the one who advanced slipped past the warrior’s line of sight, while the retreating one was cleaved in two by the warrior’s axe.

The battle leopards seized their chance, leaping to latch onto the warrior’s limbs. The surviving tribesman spun and hacked his axe at the minotaur’s neck. Yet this was no ordinary foe; the warrior’s defense and experience far surpassed that of the slaves. As the axe descended, the minotaur raised his shoulders, taking the blow on his back.

With a violent shake, he flung off the leopards and turned to finish the tribesman, who was still struggling to free his weapon. But in that instant, Li Mingxing appeared, barreling into the minotaur and slamming him to the ground, legs flailing. The minotaur’s own weight drove the embedded axe deep into his flesh.

Struggling briefly on the ground, the minotaur warrior could not rise again.

Li Mingxing glanced back at the tribesman, “There are still minotaur slaves over there—get moving!” The tribesman, jolted by the shout, sprang up, yanked the larger axe free from the minotaur’s corpse, and dashed toward the remaining enemies.

From there, things progressed smoothly. As the tribesman and the battle leopards grew more coordinated, and as Yin Haitao returned with reinforcements of tribesmen and elite thieves, Li Mingxing’s force began dispatching minotaurs with increasing speed.

In just over two hours, every minotaur in the area had fallen, though at a cost. Of the thirty-nine battle leopards he brought, only seventeen remained. Of the sixty tribesmen recruited from the village, fewer than twenty survived.

His elite thieves, however, suffered no losses and had stripped the minotaur corpses of many valuables, now guarding the loot. The tribesman who had claimed so many kills also survived, and in a flush of generosity, Li Mingxing gifted him a piece of leather armor once worn by a minotaur singer. Though the armor was far too big, the tribesman was overjoyed and swore eternal loyalty as Li Mingxing’s bodyguard.

Li Mingxing didn’t put much stock in his words. As he tallied the soul coins gained from the battle, he instructed Yin Haitao to request more tribesmen from the village. Having blasted the passage shut, it would need to be dug open once more.

Li Mingxing had already considered that the witch in the treehouse valued this valley greatly—surely something precious was hidden within. Perhaps he could barter the valley for more treasures. In his eyes, the witch possessed many wondrous things; if she was pleased, he might recover all he had lost and more.

As Li Mingxing mused, Yin Haitao arrived with over a hundred tribesmen. After surveying the collapsed passage and a brief discussion, the tribesmen surged forward, and in no time, stone after stone was cleared from the tunnel.