Chapter 56 - 48 : The Hills Close In (2)

Chapter 56: Chapter 48 : The Hills Close In (2)

The expedition stopped at a concealed position beneath a rocky rise. Scouts returned one after another. The reports were finally assembled. There were multiple trails. Several lookout positions. Signs of repeated movement through the hills. A supply route.

At least one hidden camp.

And more tracks than expected. The commander listened silently.

Then asked: "How many?"

The scout hesitated.

"We cannot say."

"That isn’t an answer."

"We counted several dozen tracks from different directions. They are not all from the same group."

The commander frowned. Another scout spoke. "We found evidence of camps farther north."

"And south?"

"Yes."

A silence followed. The expedition had expected a bandit stronghold. It was beginning to look like a network. The Prefect’s representative spoke calmly.

"Then we proceed according to the contingency plan."

Orders began moving. The large formation would not advance blindly into the hills. They would divide. Not randomly. Each group would have a designated route. State soldiers would provide the structure. Family retainers would support their assigned sections. Independent fighters would reinforce the fighting strength. Body Tempering cultivators would be distributed among the groups.

Scouts would move ahead and report changes. The strongest cultivators would remain capable of supporting neighboring groups if necessary. Ethan listened carefully as his assignment was given. His group would move along a rising section of the western slope.

Several skilled fighters. State soldiers. A handful of independent cultivators. Family retainers. And two Body Tempering cultivators. Enough strength to handle a smaller bandit group. Not enough to feel comfortable if the reports were wrong. Ethan considered the arrangement.

That was probably the point.

They were not trying to crush the entire hill range at once. They were forcing the scattered bandits out of their hiding places.

The groups would sweep through the territory. If one section encountered serious resistance, nearby groups could respond. At least, that was the intention.

The danger was obvious.

The hills were larger than the map suggested. Communication would be slower. Visibility would be poor. And the bandits knew the terrain. Ethan tightened the strap around his wrist. He did not dislike the arrangement.

It was practical.

Nothing more.

The order was given. The expedition divided.

And the hills swallowed them one group at a time. Ethan’s group moved slowly. The first hour produced nothing. Then they found a narrow trail. One of the scouts crouched beside it.

"Someone passed here recently."

Ethan looked at the ground. The impression was faint. Boots. Several people. Some heavier than others. A second set of marks crossed the trail. A mule, perhaps two. The scout pointed toward the trees.

"There."

A small strip of cloth hung from a branch.

Dark.

Worn.

Ethan stared at it. Not enough to prove anything. But enough to confirm that the area had been used. They continued, then the attack came. There was no warning cry. No dramatic signal. A stone struck the ground near one of the soldiers. The formation shifted.

"Enemy!"

Arrows came from the trees. The soldiers raised their shields. One arrow struck wood. Another hit the ground. A third passed through a gap and struck a fighter in the shoulder.

He stumbled.

The group immediately moved into formation. Ethan stepped aside as another projectile struck the earth where he had been standing. He looked toward the ridge.

There.

A movement.

Then another.

The bandits were not charging, they were testing. The group advanced. A few fighters moved into the trees. The resistance broke almost immediately. The first bandits they encountered were ordinary fighters. They had expected numbers. They had not expected discipline.

State soldiers pushed through their position.

Family retainers followed. Several independent fighters pursued the retreating bandits.

Ethan did not.

He watched. The retreat was too clean.

The bandits were running. But they were running toward the hills. Toward prepared ground. He remembered the scattered tracks. The multiple camps.

His expression tightened. This wasn’t the main force. The commander reached the same conclusion.

"Do not pursue too far."

The order came just in time. Several fighters stopped. The bandits disappeared into the trees. For a few moments, the only sound was heavy breathing. Then one of the independent fighters laughed.

"They ran."

Nobody answered. The Body Tempering cultivator beside Ethan looked toward the hills.

"They wanted us to see them."

Ethan glanced at him. The cultivator’s expression was serious.

"You think it was deliberate?"

"Yes."

"Might be bait."

Before Ethan could respond, a scout came running back.

"Commander."

The man stopped.

"There is another route ahead."

"How many?"

"We found signs of a larger group."

The commander stared at him.

"How large?"

The scout shook his head.

"Too many to count from where we were."

The laughter disappeared. The group continued. But now nobody believed the first encounter had been a victory. It had been an invitation

The terrain changed again. The slope rose sharply. The trees thickened. Then Ethan saw the first wooden structure. It was hidden between rocks and trees. Not a house.

A lookout platform.

From there, someone could observe the trail below. The scout who had spotted it signaled. The soldiers surrounded the position.

It was empty.

But the ashes inside were still warm.

Someone had left recently. Ethan looked upward. The ridge above them seemed quiet. Too quiet. He narrowed his eyes. Then he heard it. A faint sound. Stone against stone. He turned. A bandit dropped from the slope. Ethan moved before the man landed.

His dao came free. Steel met steel. The impact forced the bandit’s weapon aside. The man stumbled. Ethan stepped forward and struck again. The bandit blocked.

Once.

Twice.

On the third exchange, Ethan broke through his guard. The man’s expression changed.

He had expected another ordinary fighter. He had found a cultivator. Ethan drove him backward. The bandit abandoned the exchange and fled uphill.

Ethan did not chase. He had no interest in playing hero and being drawn away from the group. Then another figure emerged from the trees. This one was different. His body moved with greater coordination. His steps were heavier. His eyes were sharper.

A Body Tempering cultivator.

Ethan recognized it immediately. The man attacked. Ethan met him. The collision drove both of them several steps apart. The surrounding fighters instinctively backed away. The difference was obvious. This was no longer a fight between ordinary combatants.

The bandit cultivator grinned.

"You’re young."

Ethan said nothing. The man attacked again.

His strength was considerable. Enough to force Ethan to take him seriously. Their weapons clashed. Ethan shifted his footing.

The man’s next strike came from a different angle.

Ethan blocked.

Then countered.

The bandit took the blow across his side and staggered. His expression changed. Ethan advanced.

One strike.

Another.

The bandit tried to retreat. Ethan did not give him the space. His short dao moved with controlled precision. The lessons of the dojo were no longer lessons. They were movements. The bandit finally broke away. Blood darkened his clothing. He looked toward the trees. Then Ethan saw something in his expression.

Fear.

Not of the entire expedition. Of what had just happened. Ethan lowered his blade slightly.

The bandit fled. Ethan did not pursue. The fight had already told him enough.

The man’s cultivation was genuine. His technique was inferior. His reactions were slower. His foundation was unstable. Ethan could beat him. That was not surprising. What mattered was what it meant. There were more. Behind these hills were other Body Tempering cultivators. And unlike the first one, some of them might be stronger.

Ethan looked toward the ridge. A distant sound echoed through the trees.

A horn.

Once.

Then twice.

The fighters around him looked up. The commander cursed quietly. The groups had been separated farther than expected. The signal was not one of their own. It had come from the bandits.

They knew where the expedition groups were. And now they were communicating.

The hills had become a battlefield. The first real ambush came before sunset. Ethan’s group was moving through a narrow passage when the rocks above them shifted.

A shower of stones came down. The soldiers immediately raised their shields. One man was struck in the leg. Another fell. Then the bandits appeared.

Not ten.

Not twenty.

Dozens.

They emerged from multiple directions. The group formation tightened. The bandits shouted. Some carried bows. Others carried blades. Several were cultivators. The numbers were suddenly obvious. They had underestimated them.

Badly.

And they are going to pay the price for it. The commander shouted orders.

"Hold formation!"

The state soldiers formed the center. Family retainers moved to the sides. Independent fighters filled the gaps. Ethan drew his dao. The first bandit reached him. Ethan struck. The man fell back. Another replaced him.

Then another.

The battle became chaotic. There was no clean line. No single direction. The bandits used the terrain. They struck from above.

Retreated. Returned from another side. They knew where the ground narrowed. They knew where the rocks created blind spots.

They had been fighting here for a long time.

Ethan moved with his group.

A bandit cultivator charged from the side.

Ethan blocked. The impact travelled through his arm. Stronger than the previous opponent.

Ethan’s eyes narrowed.

The cultivator attacked again. Ethan stepped inside the strike. His dao cut across the man’s defense. The cultivator recoiled. A second attack followed. The bandit stumbled. Ethan finished the exchange and immediately turned toward the next threat.

He did not chase.

He did not lose himself in the battle. His objective remained the same. Survive. Protect the formation. Complete the assignment. The group fought its way through the narrow passage. Several fighters were wounded.

One state soldier fell and was pulled backward by another. A family retainer took a blade across the arm. An independent fighter staggered after being struck from behind.

The bandits were not winning. But they were causing damage. Then a larger figure stepped into the passage. Ethan looked up.

The man was broad. Scarred. His hair was tied roughly behind his head. One long scar crossed his cheek. Another disappeared beneath the collar of his dark clothing. He carried a heavy blade in one hand. He did not shout. He did not need to. The bandits around him moved aside. Ethan immediately understood.

This was Black Fang.

The name finally had a face. The man looked across the battlefield. His eyes passed over the state soldiers. The family retainers. The independent fighters. The wounded. Then stopped on the Body Tempering cultivators.

His expression remained calm. Not confident enough to be foolish. Confident enough to be dangerous. He knew this terrain. He knew how many people were behind the expedition. He knew the groups had been divided. And somewhere among these hills was a Qi Refining cultivator from the Azure Cloud Sect.

Black Fang knew he could not fight that person directly. But he did not need to.

His eyes moved toward the higher ridge.

A hidden path.

An escape route.

Ethan noticed the glance. So did the family cultivator beside him. The man whispered

"That’s him."

Ethan did not answer. Black Fang raised his blade. The bandits surged again. Ethan tightened his grip.

The battle had only just begun.