The remaining barbarian soldiers had already wrapped the hooves of their warhorses and muzzled them. After the designated time, they would charge. If the fortified village was successfully taken, they would be welcomed inside. If the assault failed, their charge could cover the retreat of Zheng Fan and the others.
This was unavoidable; this era lacked walkie-talkies. If you dared to naively wave a torch on the fortress wall after a successful takeover, all surrounding Beacon Forts would instantly raise alarms. Mimicking animal calls was even more absurd. Given the distance, you would need to sound like a dinosaur to notify the troops lying in ambush.
After speaking, Zheng Fan looked at Liang Cheng.
Liang Cheng nodded and took the lead. Zheng Fan followed closely, meticulously copying Liang Cheng’s movements.
Zheng Fan had no choice. His practical battle experience was lacking. Since he insisted on participating directly, his only option was to follow an expert.
As for the other twenty accompanying barbarian soldiers, they were naturally skilled hunters in the desert. They quickly dispersed, concealed themselves, and began approaching the fortified village at a steady pace.
Generally, these border Beacon Forts, day or night, always had sentries in their highest towers. These sentries acted like "eagle eyes," monitoring any unusual movements within their line of sight.
The people of Qian State had indeed been thoroughly frightened by the first Earl of North Border a hundred years ago. Consequently, they had retreated and focused on constructing fortifications along the border.
In reality, this dense network of Beacon Forts didn’t offer truly formidable defensive capabilities. If an invading enemy possessed sufficient forces, they could afford to wait for your main army to arrive for a decisive battle while slowly dismantling these "nails" one by one.
But the key point was that for the last hundred years, Yan State’s most elite force, the North Border Army, had been stationed at the desert’s edge to suppress the barbarians. Meanwhile, Yan State’s internal political structure restricted its ability to mobilize forces for external expansion.
This Beacon Fort system, however, proved highly effective against small raiding parties. Gradually, Yan State ceased sending small forces south for plunder or other incursions.
Later, with the decline of the barbarian Royal Court and the opening of the East-West Silk Road, the upper echelons of Yan State, benefiting from stable commercial revenue, slowly permitted Yinlang County to become a trade hub. Thus, Yinlang County came to be known as Great Yan’s "Little Jiangnan."
Originally, this period of tranquility might have persisted longer. The people on both sides of the border could have enjoyed more peaceful days, and the dove of peace might have continued to circle the skies of Yan and Qian for a good while more.
But tonight, all of this was likely to be shattered by Zheng Fan’s arrival.
Zheng Fan also wondered what would have happened if he and his seven subordinates had awoken within Qian State’s borders. Perhaps I would have had to first learn calligraphy. Then, with the help of Blind Bei and Siniang, I could have been packaged into Jiangnan’s foremost scholar, married a princess, reached the pinnacle of life, and followed the standard path of a transmigrator. Maybe I would have even had the chance to write a multitude of frontier poems, perhaps even become a scholar-general leading the Qian State army to invade Yan State, shouting: ’A century of national hatred, as vast as the ocean, hard to appease!’
In short, as Zheng Fan carefully advanced, his body steadfastly followed Liang Cheng’s rhythm, but his mind had wandered far, far away.
Liang Cheng’s words yanked Zheng Fan back from his reverie.
Lifting his head, he saw the fortress wall directly before him. The images of Qian State, the poetry, the songs, the elegant bearing that had been swirling in his mind—all scattered to the wind.
Shatuo Queshi had once declared before the residence of the Earl of North Border: "I am merely a barbarian from the wilderness."
Well then, since the Qian people have already labeled me a Yan barbarian, it’s time I did what a barbarian ought to do. Thɪs chapter is updated by N()velFire.net
The other barbarian soldiers were also swift. In fact, because Liang Cheng had to accommodate Zheng Fan’s novice pace, by the time the two of them had crept to the corner of the fortress wall, the barbarian soldiers who had advanced with them had already been waiting for some time.
It was a shame they couldn’t smoke there; otherwise, there would have been several cigarette butts at their feet.
Everyone clenched a knife between their teeth and then began to... climb!
Without ropes or any other climbing gear, they used their hands and feet, scaling the wall in the most primitive way imaginable.
At this point, Zheng Fan regretted not bringing Xue Three and the others.
If Xue Three were here, he’d scale this wall in a heartbeat. Even Blind Bei, relying on his mental force, could have zipped right up. But it can’t be helped; I have to pay the price for my own impulsiveness.
Fortunately, this fortress wasn’t a major city. Firstly, it wasn’t particularly tall. Secondly, its construction quality wasn’t reliable. It hadn’t been built with the goal of "never falling." Furthermore, after a century of weathering, its walls were pockmarked and uneven, offering abundant handholds and footholds for climbing.
The barbarian soldiers were agile. Zheng Fan, drawing upon his internal vitality, also climbed steadily upward.
Liang Cheng was the fastest. He dug his hard fingernails directly into crevices in the wall for leverage, his feet barely needing to move, almost as if he were performing on a horizontal bar.
He had to be the first one up to eliminate the lookout posted above.
Eventually, Zheng Fan saw Liang Cheng become the first to vault over the top.