Chapter 57: The Liao Army's Eagle Archers

With a powerful kick, Kaba's leg shattered another bone. Only then did the opponents realize that Shen Shi was not someone they could resist.

But it was already too late for them to understand this. After the first one fell, the local militia quickly adapted—once an enemy was defeated, they rushed forward, pressing their weapons to their necks and immediately restraining them with shackles brought for the purpose.

Wang Chao and Ma Han, who had just run over from the prison cart, finally breathed a sigh of relief. If the opponents had truly injured Lord Bao, they would never have forgiven themselves.

“Kill!” Wang Chao and Ma Han charged at the remaining warriors from Liao. At the same time, Shen Shi targeted his next adversary.

With their involvement, the last three Liao warriors quickly lost their arrogance and were all subdued in short order.

The wounded were attended to, and the fallen Liao warriors were guarded by the militia.

As for the monk, he too was seized by the militia.

On ordinary days, the militia treated outsiders with considerable courtesy. But today was different. People had died, and those slain were not only compatriots but fellow townsmen. Naturally, the one who spoke on behalf of the Liao was not met with kindness.

“Amitabha, I am a monk from Lanruo Temple. I demand to see the Chief Monk.”

The monk repeatedly asserted his rights, but no one paid him any mind.

Mournful horn calls echoed through the night, the sound of ox horns drifting on the wind, and everyone’s face changed dramatically.

“Lord, they’re Liao troops. No fewer than five hundred horsemen,” Zhao Hu reported to Bao Zheng after scouting the forces beyond the marketplace by moonlight.

“What do we do? What do we do? The Liao are attacking!”

“Mother of heaven, the Liao are coming to kill us!”

The militia, who had already escorted the prisoners out of the marketplace, all rushed back, bringing more information—and greater panic.

If the Liao did not have horses, perhaps the people in the marketplace would have already fled.

“What are you afraid of? Liao dogs are men, too! A blade to their neck and they die just the same. What’s there to fear?” Wang Chao and Ma Han roared, striving to steady the panicked hearts.

But if five Liao warriors were so difficult to overcome, how much more terrifying were five hundred outside? Chaos continued, and even Shen Shi found himself helping to restore order.

“Ha ha ha...” The five captured Liao warriors suddenly burst into laughter. Their mission was accomplished.

Those five had charged in for one reason: to delay the Song forces. Now, their goal was achieved.

Suddenly, a torrent of arrows rained down from above. Shen Shi’s heart clenched as he turned to see dozens of arrows streaking through the air like meteors.

“Listen up! Everyone take cover behind the wooden walls and prison carts—do not show yourselves!”

Seeing the Guobei militia still standing foolishly in the open, Shen Shi’s anger flared. He strode forward, kicking several of them to the ground.

The rest, seeing his wrath, hurriedly obeyed and hid. But they were untrained militia; frightened and panicked, not all followed orders. A couple of them, in blind terror, turned and ran, only to be struck down by the falling arrows before they had gone two steps.

“That is the fate of those who disobey orders! Open your eyes and see it well!” Shen Shi shouted coldly and fiercely, jolting the stunned young men out of their shock.

It was not cruelty but necessity. At this moment, sentiment was fatal; any lapse could lead to a rout.

Yes, Shen Shi recognized the aura on the Liao warriors. When the cavalry arrived outside, he saw it clearly—it was the spirit of the army.

Most outsiders divided armies into seasoned veterans, hardened warriors, and fresh recruits. Shen Shi saw it as Qi.

Where Qi was abundant, victory was inevitable; even outnumbered, such forces could display formidable strength. Famous armies in history possessed this military aura.

By contrast, Bao Zheng’s forces were mere militia, less trained than even new recruits. Not only did they lack military Qi, they lacked even basic discipline.

With a swift motion, Shen Shi rose, his palms open wide, his true energy surging. In one sweeping gesture, he caught dozens of incoming arrows in his hands.

With a flick of the wrist, he sent the arrows flying back through the marketplace’s fences at even greater speed.

The Liao troops outside had not anticipated such a swift counterattack, nor imagined the Song’s arrows could reach so far.

The sound of arrows sinking into flesh was relentless, blood spraying as bodies fell.

Shen Shi’s display inspired the militia, giving them newfound courage. The general lends courage to his soldiers, and Shen Shi’s actions were enough to rally their spirits. Gradually, the militia began to develop discipline.

But the Liao were no fools. Their master archers immediately targeted Shen Shi.

Danger!

Having inspired his comrades, Shen Shi suddenly felt a chilling sense of being marked. Before he could discern what was wrong, he heard the twang of a bowstring from the Liao ranks, followed by a piercing whistle as an arrow shot through the air, making his eardrums ache.

Without hesitation, Shen Shi seized a waist blade from a nearby militiaman. He swung it, striking the incoming arrow with a resounding clang. Though the arrow was shattered into several pieces, the Liao archers were all capable of killing giant eagles with their marksmanship, and their arrows were heavy, armor-piercing shafts. The collision left a thumb-sized notch in Shen Shi’s blade.

Such masterful archery!

As this thought crossed his mind, the sense of being locked on returned, and three more arrows whistled through the air, carrying an unmistakable intent to kill.

This was an impact felt on a spiritual level. Many sensed the intent, especially Wang Chao and the others—warriors whose keenness made them believe these arrows could not be evaded, and death was certain.

They knew that Shen Shi could not be harmed at this moment. Not only was his martial prowess the highest, but more importantly, they were warriors, not generals.

If anyone here possessed command ability, it was Shen Shi, descendant of a military family.

This was not self-effacing on Wang Chao and Ma Han’s part—it was simply the truth. If the gentry held the keys to the imperial exam system, the military families held the knowledge of battle and warfare.

Throughout history, emperors have suppressed military clans yet could never do without them, for they alone preserved the techniques of training and war, passed down through generations. Until military academies appeared, this was the unchanging order.

As the sole heir to a military house among them, Shen Shi could sense the Liao sharpshooters’ murderous intent, but he had no means of countering it.

The archers’ will seemed to stir the very essence of heaven and earth, whistling toward him, carrying the breath of inevitable death...