Chapter Five: The Fall of the City

Zhengyi, though located at the very heart of the Great Zhou, was neither blessed with convenient waterways nor enriched with abundant mineral resources. It offered no natural advantage—a truly middling land in every sense. Its city walls were low, pavilions and terraces unremarkable, and like its people, the place seemed utterly devoid of vitality.

Yet, curiously, in the city’s southeast stood a massive fortress-like structure, its bluestone walls as weighty as mountains. On its flank, a skyship platform stretched high into the clouds, where vessels would come gliding in by moonlight and depart at dawn, never lingering within the city even for a moment.

All those who entered or exited this fortress were burly men. Officially, it was a patrol encampment under the jurisdiction of the Four Upper Armies, but any passing officers or soldiers who tried to acquaint themselves were met with cold rebuffs, not a shred of courtesy shown. Only a select few, whose influence reached the highest echelons, knew the truth: behind this place’s façade lay a hidden prison of the Nine Drums Guard.

The encampment was small. Within the fortress walls stood but four rows of barracks and a single training ground, scattered with various weapons. Yet behind these, utterly out of proportion to the compound’s size, rose several colossal warehouses, lined up side by side. Further in, thick walls and solid stone enclosed a secluded courtyard.

At the heart of this courtyard was the entrance to the Nine Drums’ secret dungeon, a place of confinement for criminals, outcasts, and monsters alike.

The dungeon lay deep underground, accessible only by a slanting passage, over a hundred feet long and shaped like a funnel. Directly facing its depths stood three Eight-Ox Crossbows, aligned in a deadly row. These required no adjustment—one pull of the trigger would send bolts flying, piercing the five-foot-square door at the far end, leaving nothing untouched.

The guards stationed here numbered a squad, each with his own responsibilities. In addition to the crossbows, they were armed with long weapons and sturdy shields, their defensive measures complete. They changed shifts every four hours, day and night, keeping the place sealed tighter than a drum.

But human nature is ever forgetful. Nearly five years had passed since Moyun’s infamous escape. With the turnover of guards, that old catastrophe had faded into legend, a mere tale to tell. The final line of defense in the secret dungeon was now riddled with flaws, a hollow shell of its former vigilance...

As noon approached, the guard who had taken food inside had not yet returned. Meanwhile, the midday rations of pickled sauce and millet had already been delivered. The guards in the corridor each took their meal, not waiting for the missing man, and settled wherever they pleased to eat, the squad leader included. The rules of the dungeon were long forgotten.

At that very moment, almost everyone felt a chill sweep over them, as if the air had suddenly dropped in temperature. The squad leader instinctively turned his head—just in time to see a shadow, black as night, streak from the corridor like a crossbow bolt, moving with the speed of a galloping horse, swift as lightning!

“Watch out—”

Everything happened too quickly. Before the squad leader could finish his warning, the shadow crashed heavily into the Eight-Ox Crossbows. With a tremendous impact, all three were knocked askew, and the shadow, letting out a piercing, inhuman howl, sprang up and lunged straight at the man who had cried out!

It was a demon hound—a rabid one, its eyes aflame with red, spittle flying from its jaws!

The squad leader’s scream shattered the dungeon’s tranquility, but in the next instant, the hound’s fangs and claws tore through what remained of his cry. Blood spurted from the gaping wound in his throat, splattering the ground, the frothy crimson instantly filling the eyes of every guard present.

A demon—a demon had escaped!

The hound set upon the squad leader’s flesh, tearing and devouring, giving the other guards a moment to react. The next second, chaos erupted: some snatched up weapons and tried to form a group, others turned and fled outright, and a few, paralyzed by terror, simply wet themselves and stared dumbly down the corridor.

From its depths, a swarm of monsters was charging out, drenched in blood, trailing a stench of carnage, like devils storming up from the deepest hell.

The one thrown out first was, of course, the half-mad, sixth-rank demon hound. Liuchou had made him the vanguard, using simple slings fashioned from Husi’s spider silk to launch him into the guards, sowing chaos among their ranks. Only then did the other monsters follow, breaking out into the crowd.

Such tactics were the specialty of humanity—yet Liuchou wielded them with ruthless skill, far beyond what these jailors could withstand.

In a matter of moments, Liuchou, Moyun, and the other monsters tore into the guards, slaughtering them without mercy. Against the onslaught of more than a dozen monsters, the guards stood no chance; in a heartbeat, they were cut down. But by now, the commotion had alarmed the rest of the camp. Horns blared, and countless dungeon soldiers poured out, some rushing to man the fortress walls, others gathering into ranks.

Liuchou surveyed his surroundings and finally understood what Moyun had meant by “towering outer walls.” Glancing at the other monsters, he saw many of them just now realizing the situation. The frenzy and excitement from the slaughter faded, replaced by panic.

“What do we do?” Moyun, his voice as deep as thunder, scratched his head in agitation, trying to cover his fear. “Brother Liu, what now? Which way do we break?”

Liuchou gave a wry smile. “Break out? The walls are bristling with crossbows—charging blindly is certain death. We have only one option left!”

“And that is?”

“Hold this position, kill the soldiers, then seek a way out!” Liuchou’s mind was clear, his resolve firm. “Once we’ve dealt with the soldiers below, it won’t matter whether we climb the walls or break through the gates.”

“Hold out? Kill them all?” The lesser demons nearby paled, clearly afraid. “If the cultivators arrive, we’ll be in real trouble!”

“We have no choice but to hold. Don’t try to break out by force! Look at the shape of this fortress: when it was built, they must have anticipated a situation like this—hoping we’d panic and be cut down from above and below. Even if cultivators are on duty, the risk isn’t too great. It’s worth a try. Moyun, Husi, what do you think?” Liuchou turned calmly to the two higher-ranked monsters. The rabid hound, still gnawing on corpses, was of no concern.

Moyun pursed his lips, his eyes darting about. Though he possessed intelligence, this kind of strategizing was not his forte, so he looked to Husi for guidance. The monster’s eyebrows were knotted in distress, and he gripped his spear so tightly his knuckles turned white, his face shifting between green and pale. At last, he made up his mind:

“The walls are too high. Even I couldn’t dodge all those crossbow bolts—the risk is too great. We’ll do as Liuchou says: kill them first, then escape!”

Seeing Husi’s decision, Moyun clapped Liuchou on the shoulder. “Then it’s settled!”

With the three strongest monsters united, the rest had nothing more to say. They quickly fell in behind the trio, preparing for the coming battle.

Within moments, the soldiers in the camp had assembled. At the officers’ shouts, they split into countless squads and charged for the corridor’s exit, surrounding the monsters from all sides.

Over a thousand well-armed soldiers faced a few dozen demons—most of them weakened by long captivity and desperate to flee. Ordinarily, they would have stood a chance. But against Liuchou and his companions, the odds were overturned. The monsters had already recovered their strength through food and rest and had abandoned any thought of flight—they were ready to fight to the death.

The soldiers, armed with halberds, spears, swords, and shields, advanced in formation, accelerating as they came, their shouts thunderous. Arrows rained down from the rear, while a barrage of combined tactics pressed the monsters, trying to force them to break and run. But under the stern gaze of Liuchou, Moyun, and Husi, not a single demon dared to falter, even as fear gnawed at their hearts.

A shriek split the air, cutting through the soldiers’ cries. A massive bolt from an Eight-Ox Crossbow streaked in a pale arc, piercing the ranks and leaving a trail of scarlet, coming to rest in the earth with viscera dangling from its tip.

The bolt had punched through the chests and abdomens of four men, gouging a wound as thick as a thigh and turning their insides to pulp.

The Eight-Ox Crossbow!

Liuchou had seized the weapon meant to guard the corridor, thus igniting the chaos of battle.

In that instant, the monsters surged forth, charging the stunned soldiers like a tidal wave. Spells erupted everywhere—howling winds, swirling dust, choking mists, and toxic vapors—each more fearsome than the last.

Swish—swish—swish—

With three bolts fired, Liuchou hefted his iron staff and plunged into the melee, sweeping and slashing, sending bodies flying, limbs torn asunder and blood splattering everywhere.

In no time at all, humans and monsters were utterly intermingled, locked in frenzied slaughter.

Liuchou darted through the soldiers, striking swiftly and relentlessly. His iron staff sent men hurtling through the air, sometimes whole, sometimes in pieces. He targeted the squad leaders first—once they were down, their teams fell into disarray and were as good as finished.

Everywhere, the battle raged. Screams and wails pierced the air. The entire fortress became a battlefield. Lost in the carnage, Liuchou himself nearly forgot who he was, fighting only to carve a path through the bloodshed.

With a sweeping blow, he sent a squad leader flying, but then a chill of danger flashed through his heart. He looked up and saw several black bolts streaking toward him.

Crossbow bolts!

Liuchou realized, too late, that he had smashed through the human ranks and now stood exposed behind them, right in the crossbowmen’s line of fire atop the walls.

He recognized the weapons at once and dove aside, twisting and rolling to fling himself in another direction. The wind of the passing bolts roared in his ears—he owed his survival to luck alone.

Thud, thud, thud... Bolts slammed into the ground all around him, flinging dirt and stones that pelted Liuchou’s body—the sheer force of the crossbows was plain to see.

The Eight-Ox Crossbows of the Tianji Trading Guild were nothing compared to those of the Nine Drums in terms of power.

When silence returned, Liuchou looked up to see the soldiers on the walls frantically reloading the crossbows. A few unused weapons remained trained on him. Not daring to linger, he quickly turned and plunged back into the throng.

Casualties in the fortress were staggering—the humans had suffered grievously, but many monsters had also fallen. Of the dozen or so demons, nearly all bore wounds; three or five lay dead already. The survivors were now encircled in countless rings of soldiers, shields and blades in front, arrows and spears attacking from all sides, hemming them in with deadly force.

Liuchou’s eyes swept the battlefield. Suddenly, he leaped up, snatched a spear from the ground, and hurled it with all his might. Without pausing, he seized more spears, sending a rain of them into the nearest ring of soldiers.

At such close range, how could the soldiers defend themselves?

Immediately, several were skewered and fell lifeless, and the hard-fought encirclement broke apart.