Chapter 14: Minor Skirmishes Within the Camp

Inside the West City military camp.

The morning sunlight bathed the earth.

The soldiers, having already reported for duty, were playfully fooling around within the camp.

At this moment, the camp lacked any sense of wartime tension.

The Tibetan bandits did not launch their major offensives at this time.

At most, small groups of marauders occasionally harassed the local villagers.

As a result, the soldiers appeared extremely lax.

“I heard the new squad leader is coming!”

“That guy jumped straight from a raw recruit to squad leader.”

“They say he’s cut down over ten bandits.”

“Do you believe that?”

The crowd shook their heads in disbelief. One short but sturdy soldier with thick eyebrows and large eyes stepped forward, resting his broad saber on the ground, instantly making a small dent in the earth.

Grumbling, he said, “I’ve fought hard so many times. Though I haven’t beheaded many, I’ve earned my share of merit and hardship.”

“I’ve left behind plenty of battle records and finally worked my way up to squad leader.”

“Who would’ve guessed? A conscripted militiaman, usually busy in the fields, could easily take down seven bandits.”

“Do you all think his record is credible?”

In unison, the men replied, “Of course not.”

“If he didn’t get in through connections, I’d take his head and kick it like a ball.”

“Besides, some of you veterans have served so long and never even got promoted to squad leader.”

“Anyway, it’s not going to be him, right?”

The group responded, “Right!”

Just as the conversation grew lively, Zhao Mang strolled in leisurely.

All eyes turned.

Zhao Mang was impeccably neat, carrying a sturdy three-stone bow on his back and a long saber at his waist.

Though dressed like a soldier, he looked different from the veterans in the camp.

Everyone immediately recognized him as a newcomer.

The same soldier who had spoken earlier stood proudly and asked directly, “Are you the new squad leader?”

“I heard you’ve slain over ten bandits. None of us believe you have that skill. Dare to spar with me?”

Zhao Mang was taken aback; he hadn’t expected a troublemaker to challenge him on his very first day.

He thought to himself how damn predictable this world was, like a makeshift troupe.

Newcomers are always given a hard time—that never changes.

Without wasting words, Zhao Mang removed his bow from his back.

He had no intention of trading insults.

He acted immediately.

He beckoned the man forward with a cold tone: “Come on!”

The tough soldier was surprised by Zhao Mang's straightforwardness but decisively accepted the challenge.

With a cold snort, he planted his saber firmly into the ground.

“Fine! With your attitude, I’ll have a good fight with you.”

Saying that, he charged forward.

The surrounding soldiers stepped back, spontaneously forming a circle and cheering.

Zhao Mang stepped back with his left foot, lowered his center of gravity slightly.

He formed a palm with one hand, facing upward, took a stance, and focused intently on the charging man.

The tough soldier didn’t hesitate and threw a punch straight at Zhao Mang’s face.

Zhao Mang’s lips curled into a faint smile.

His hand flipped, and with ease, he caught the punch.

He gripped the fist tightly.

The soldier felt his fist was firmly held, unable to break free.

He quickly lifted a foot to kick.

But Zhao Mang effortlessly neutralized the attack.

Then he delivered a kick to the soldier’s abdomen.

A muffled sound followed.

The moment Zhao Mang kicked, he released his grip.

The soldier’s body flew backward like a kite with a broken string, landing heavily three meters away.

Lying on the ground, the soldier—likely due to the vicious kick—was sweating profusely from his forehead.

Stammering, he said, “Little brother... your leg’s really powerful! I... I admit defeat!”

Everyone stared at Zhao Mang in astonishment, their disdain vanishing.

This soldier, usually confident in his strength, often fought in the camp and won eight out of ten fights.

Everyone knew his capability.

Yet, encountering this newcomer, he was bested and struggling on the ground after just one round.

Clearly, the new squad leader was formidable.

Cheers erupted; many wanted to befriend this capable man.

At that moment, the loud voice of Brigade Commander Zhao Wuji rang out.

“What are you all gathered here for? Is the training task too light?”

Hearing this, the crowd scattered like startled birds.

Only the soldier still writhing on the ground remained.

Zhao Wuji glanced at him indifferently and said, “Zhu Wuneng, stirring trouble again, huh? You just kicked the wrong rock this time.”

“You, go find two new recruits for this new squad leader. Let him take them to guard the beacon tower on Dunzi Peak!”

Then he turned to Zhao Mang, saying, “Xiao Han will follow you from now on; you two know each other well.”

“Right now, the army is short of manpower. Everything must be done personally. The Tibetan unrest is growing more obvious—keep your eyes sharp and work hard!”

Zhao Mang responded, “Understood, Brigade Commander!”

With that, Zhao Wuji turned and left swiftly without lingering.

Xiao Han approached Zhao Mang with a broad smile.

“Hehe, Squad Leader Zhao, I look forward to your guidance!”

Zhao Mang smiled and lightly punched Xiao Han’s chest.

“Don’t tease me! I’m hoping to achieve great things with your help!”

The two laughed and helped Zhu Wuneng, who was still on the ground, to his feet, then headed deeper into the camp.

...

At the Dunzi Peak Beacon Tower.

Located at the far west of Shacheng City, this was the highest point.

As its name implies, Dunzi Peak resembled a mound more than a true mountain, essentially just a large hill.

A crude wooden outpost stood at the beacon tower.

Zhao Mang and Xiao Han, accompanied by two recruits from the camp, arrived at the outpost just as the sun was about to set.

Zhao Mang frowned as he surveyed the dilapidated outpost.

He was displeased.

He hadn’t expected such a critical location to have such a shabby camp.

It seemed any small group could easily seize this place.

This outpost was clearly built just to shelter from the wind and rain.

To think it could defend against Tibetan bandits was pure wishful thinking.

Two soldiers were stationed there.

They were also under Zhao Mang’s command.

The four entered the camp but saw no one.

Zhao Mang frowned again.

They had come all the way inside, yet there was no response.

This place, the westernmost beacon tower of the city, was the most dangerous and the one that demanded the highest vigilance.

Yet the guards were so lax.

Zhao Mang’s headache deepened.

The burden was heavy, and the path long.

After the group paused, Zhao Mang shouted loudly, “Zhu Qiqi! Wang Mazi! Report!”

His voice echoed throughout the camp.

Moments later, a shadow suddenly darted out from the darkness, rushing toward Zhao Mang and swinging a blade aimed at his head.

Zhao Mang was prepared the instant the figure appeared.

He raised his hand, blocking the attack with the long saber at his waist.

His defense was as solid as a rock.

Zhu Qiqi felt all his strength rebound against him.

He staggered and retreated to the side.

At that moment, a tall, thin figure leisurely stepped out from another corner of the camp.

It was Wang Mazi.

The attacker was Zhu Qiqi.

...