Chapter Thirty-Six: Crisis

“Oh? Hehe!”
“Yoho~ hoho!”
“Huff~ huff~ hohuff!”
Ji Ying and Ji Wolf collapsed to the ground—one struggling in disgrace, the other with a bloodied face. They had just been terrified by Ji Hao’s killing spree, their nerves shattered not only by their own leader’s death but by the sheer terror of the slaughter. Yet, at this moment, their fellow savages were cheering ecstatically!

These savages were not intelligent; their behavior was closer to that of beasts. When their leader fell, they would flee; but if their leader prevailed, they would transform into the most ferocious beasts, tearing apart any enemy before them!

Now, the dreadful enemy who killed their chief had been knocked down by the chief’s honored guest. As the lines faltered and collapse loomed, the savages suddenly found boundless courage. They roared and clamored, clutching their weapons, and turned menacingly toward Ji Hao and the valley behind him.

“People, so many people! Meat, delicious meat!”

“The old ones are chewy! The young ones have tender marrow!”

“And women! Hey, there are women over there! Hehe, the women, they’re mine!”

Drooling at the mouth, the savages muttered and edged closer, probing toward Ji Hao. Their strides grew bolder, their courage swelling, until, without warning, someone bellowed—and thousands of savages charged at Ji Hao and toward Cold Creek Valley in a wild frenzy.

“Hao, fall back!” A warrior from the Qingyi Clan shouted from the unfinished defensive wall of Cold Creek Valley.

A dozen Qingyi warriors, stationed in the valley, drew their longbows. Arrows shot forth like a torrential rain. Their archery was uncanny; each arrow whistled sharply, winding through the air like a giant serpent.

Arrows pierced one, two, three, and even more savage throats. Each arrow struck at least three vital spots, some even tearing through fifteen wild men before finally losing all momentum and embedding themselves in the earth.

The storm of arrows swept up a rain of blood.

Over a hundred arrows were fired in the span of two breaths; the front ranks of hundreds of savages fell, howling in agony, clutching their throats, writhing and wailing until all movement ceased.

The courage the savages had just mustered vanished utterly. They dropped their weapons and, howling, fled, scrambling with all their might away from Cold Creek Valley.

Two armored warriors of the Jia clan frowned and shook their heads.

“These beasts are less than animals; they’re not even fit to be slaves! We’ll have to handle this ourselves!” said the Jia warrior wielding a flail, his voice cold and grim. “The two of us are enough to capture everyone in this valley!”

His companion, armed with a heavy shield and broadsword, snorted coldly. “The savages still serve a purpose. We need them to transport so many slaves. So, we can’t let them take too many casualties.”

He hung his shield on his belt, grasped his sword in one hand, and, with a mocking smile, beckoned to Ji Hao with his index finger. “Kid, such a young shaman—impressive! Come, let me see what you can do!”

Ji Hao drew a deep breath. His black pupils suddenly shone gold and red. Around them, nine symbols flickered in and out of sight, as the world’s energies flooded into him. Within a yard of his body, the light dimmed noticeably.

The two Jia warriors watched Ji Hao’s actions with curiosity. They made no move to attack first. Clearly, they did not take Ji Hao seriously—they were simply ‘curious’ and wanted to see what he would ‘perform’ for them.

“Hao, retreat! You can't handle them!” Ji Ying, who had taken a heavy blow from the flail to the back of his head, staggered up, his spear trailing a huge arc of fire as he slashed fiercely toward the enemy’s neck.

The life force of a great shaman was formidable; if a normal person had suffered such a blow, their skull would have been smashed. Ji Ying merely felt a slight dizziness, struggled for a moment, then recovered and launched his attack with full force.

At the same time, Ji Wolf, his forehead battered and bleeding, leaped high, drawing a pitch-black dagger and slashing a fiery arc toward the face of the Jia warrior with the broadsword.

Ji Wolf cried hoarsely, “Hao, retreat! Everyone, fall back! No one fights—retreat, retreat, retreat!”

Ji Hao watched Ji Ying and Ji Wolf calmly, unmoving.

Crow Lord perched silently on Ji Hao’s shoulder, every feather bristling. His gaze fixed beyond the two Jia warriors, never wavering from the dense forest where the enemies had emerged.

Ji Ying and Ji Wolf counterattacked, but both Jia warriors reached out simultaneously, seized them by the throat, and slammed them to the ground with brutal force. The earth shook violently as their bodies sank deeply into the hardened soil.

“Kill!” Ji Ying spat blood. Buried ten yards deep, he sprang from the pit, flames roaring around him, his spear trailing fire as he thrust at the enemy with all his might.

“We are the great shamans of the Fire Crow Clan!” Ji Wolf, also spitting blood, leaped from the pit. His dagger lost somewhere underground, he clenched his fists and unleashed hundreds of blows upon the enemy.

“The gap in strength is too great, far too great!” Ji Hao growled through clenched teeth. “Must you be so stubborn? Why risk our lives against these monsters?”

The two Jia warriors took a single stride, their movements fluid and tinged with an indescribable grace. With that step, they easily sidestepped Ji Ying and Ji Wolf’s wild attacks. Then, in perfect synchrony, they bent slightly forward and hammered their right elbows into Ji Wolf and Ji Ying’s abdomens.

Whoosh—two sounds, and Ji Ying and Ji Wolf spat blood, shooting backward like cannonballs, skimming the ground.

Their bodies tore through the air, the blast carving a deep trench several yards long and half a yard wide in the earth. They crashed heavily beside Ji Hao, blood spraying from their mouths like fountains.

This time, the wounds were grave—even for the sturdy life force of a great shaman, they could no longer stand.

The Jia warrior with the broadsword beckoned to Ji Hao with a cold smile. “Kid, come, let me witness your power!”

“You think I’m stupid?” Ji Hao retorted with a gesture, flashing his middle finger. Whether or not the enemy understood its meaning, he grabbed Ji Ying and Ji Wolf, unleashed the magic stored within him, and exploded with fire. The three of them became countless sparks shooting away, reappearing at the entrance to Cold Creek Valley the next instant.

“Retreat!” Ji Hao dragged Ji Ying and Ji Wolf toward the far end of the valley, shouting as he ran, “Uncles, fall back! The enemy is too strong—we’re no match for them. Wait until Father returns! Retreat—leave the slaves!”

A dozen Qingyi warriors quickly converged on Ji Hao; the Fire Crow warriors stationed in Cold Creek Valley followed him toward the valley’s end.

But two figures stormed into the valley like a hurricane, barging through the ranks of Qingyi and Fire Crow warriors. Amid dull thuds, dozens of Fire Crow warriors and several Qingyi warriors spat blood and were sent flying, landing over a hundred yards away.

Ji Hao halted abruptly. The two Jia warriors, their faces twisted in ridicule, were already blocking the path a hundred yards ahead.

Their speed was so great that Ji Hao hadn’t even seen how they had entered.