Chapter 133 Inviting the Enemy into the Trap
At 11:45 AM, we returned to Huifeng Valley.
This is the weakest flank of the Yanmen Pass defense line, a low-lying area where cold winds blow back.
Under the cover of the swirling snow, visibility was less than five meters.
In the darkness, a group of shadows draped in white wolf skins, crawling on the snow, approached the Dasheng army camp silently, like ghosts.
They were the most elite "wolf cavalry" scouts of the Northern Rong, skilled not only in mounted archery but also in assassination and night raids.
The centurion leading the group, Huyan Lie, had a poisoned scimitar in his mouth and stared with a sinister gaze at the few scattered tents ahead.
As the intelligence indicated, the defenses here were so lax it was almost laughable.
There were only a handful of patrolling soldiers, and they were all hunched over, shivering from the cold, completely unaware that death was already at their feet.
The candlelight flickering dimly from the tents indicated that the large swine pigs inside were fast asleep.
"Fool." Hu Yanlie sneered inwardly.
As long as the grain supplies here are burned, the Dasheng army will collapse without a fight!
He raised his hand and made a "kill without mercy" gesture.
"Swish swish swish—"
Dozens of white figures suddenly sprang up, taking advantage of the wind and snow, and rushed towards the frontmost tents like hungry wolves pouncing on their prey.
Huyan Lie charged ahead. He skillfully used his scimitar to slice open the thick felt of the tent.
"Sizzle—"
The sound of tearing cloth was barely audible in the wind.
Huyan Lie grinned maliciously as he rushed in, raising his knife to slash at the raised bed: "Die!"
However, when the blade fell, there was no sensation of the blade piercing flesh, nor the expected scream.
Instead, there was a muffled "plop" sound, cotton wadding flew everywhere, and the quilt was full of straw.
Empty? !
Hu Yanlie's pupils suddenly contracted, and a chill instantly shot from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.
Oh no! We've fallen for their trap!
In that instant, two eerie, cold lights suddenly shone from the corner of the previously pitch-black tent.
That's not a light.
Those were human eyes hidden in the darkness, filled with mockery and murderous intent.
Immediately following was a sickeningly loud scraping sound of metal clashing against metal.
"Clang—"
The darkness was torn apart by the gleaming light of a blade.
"We've been waiting for you for a long time."
A heavily armored, towering black-armored guard rose from the shadows.
His long-handled heavy sword, Mo Dao, wielded with the force to split mountains and shatter rocks, slashed down at the astonished Hu Yanlie!
"ah--!!!"
The screams instantly shattered the silence of the night.
At the same time, the "snowdrifts" that were originally covered with thick snow on the high ground around Returning Wind Valley suddenly came to life.
Those were a full thousand black-armored guards who had been lying in ambush for a long time!
"Kill!" The shouts of battle shook the heavens and the earth.
Countless rockets rained down from above, instantly turning the wolf riders who were preparing to set the fire into moving targets of flame.
This was Pei Yunjing's trap, a scheme to lure the prey into a trap and then trap them.
...
Half an hour later, the battle was nearing its end.
The elite scouts that the Northern Rong were so proud of were like a group of rats trapped in a cage within the encirclement of the Great Sheng Black Armor Guards, destined only to be crushed.
Huyan Lie was covered in blood, and his left arm had been severed.
With his last breath, he led his remaining few men in a disheveled state out of the encirclement, attempting to break through towards the central command tent—
That was the only way to live, and also the only way to die.
When he broke through the wind and snow and saw the scene in front of the central command tent, his steps froze on the spot.
There were no heavy guards on the open ground in front of the main tent.
There was only a grand chair covered with a tiger skin, and next to it was a small red clay stove with a pot of wine warming on it.
A man was sitting there.
He wasn't wearing armor, or even a cloak.
He was wearing only a thin, loose black robe with the collar slightly open, and his dark hair was casually draped over his shoulders.
On this battlefield where water freezes instantly, he was like a noble young master who came out to appreciate the snow, languid, casual, and even a bit nonchalant and decadent.
Pei Yunjing held a white jade wine cup in his hand. He turned his head slightly, and his scarlet, eerie phoenix eyes pierced through the swirling snowflakes, landing lightly on Huyan Lie, who was covered in blood.
There was no murderous intent in him. Because in his eyes, these people were already dead.
"Smack."
Pei Yunjing gently placed the wine glass on the small table.
He looked at Huyan Lie, a hint of impatience and disdain flashing between his brows, as if he were blaming a host for a guest who was late:
"Too slow."
His voice wasn't loud, but it clearly pierced through the clamor of the battlefield and reached the ears of every enemy:
"My wine has gone cold."
"Since we're here..."
Pei Yunjing slowly stood up. With his movement, his wide black robe fluttered in the wind, like the wings of death unfurling.
He didn't draw the "Delusion-Slaying" sword stuck in the snow beside him. Instead, he walked bare-handed, step by step, toward the group of desperate men who were already terrified.
"Then let this blood be left behind."
Pei Yunjing raised his hand, and within his palm, internal energy condensed into a black vortex; his eyes shone brightly with a red light.
"Warm me up..."
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