Chapter Forty: Ambushed in the Woods

“Brother Wu! I’ll leave it to you—I need to tend to my wound!” As Ding Li caught a glimpse of Zhang Wu approaching, he slowly took two steps back, turned, and sheathed his short dagger at his waist. His gaze swept the tangled weeds on the ground in search of something. Survival in the wild was nothing new to Ding Li; finding common herbs for pain relief and disinfection was a simple matter for him.

“Cao You! You didn’t expect this, did you? Today, I’ll bring your head to Second Master myself!” Zhang Wu strode forward with heavy, resolute steps, his grip tightening on the warblade, his face cold as frost. He slowly raised the blood-soaked blade.

“Zhang Wu, don’t get cocky! Just because you took down a few of my men, don’t think you’re invincible!” Cao You and Zhang Wu were old adversaries, well acquainted with each other’s strength, and he wasn’t worried he’d fall here. Still, Cao You’s gaze flicked—meaningfully—toward Ding Li, who sat under a tree chewing herbs, and he added with a hint of warning, “If I want to leave, you alone won’t be enough to stop me!”

“You’ll only know if I can stop you after you try!” Zhang Wu’s reply was icy and curt; he wasted no more words. Stepping forward, his entire body surged into motion, the bloodied blade in his hand sweeping a sinister crimson arc through the air.

“Come on, then!” With a roar, Cao You raised his blade and charged, his momentum no less fierce than Zhang Wu’s. In fact, though caught in a crisis, Cao You was even more composed than his opponent.

Steel clashed, the two warblades meeting with a harsh clang. Zhang Wu was the first to feint, pulling his blade back and surging forward to smash his left elbow toward Cao You’s cheek.

Cao You, at first pleased by the sudden lack of resistance beneath his blade, realized the trick too late. He quickly withdrew, stepping rapidly backward, just dodging Zhang Wu’s elbow as it grazed the tip of his nose, leaving a burning sting behind.

Having missed, Zhang Wu halted his left arm in time, twisted at the waist, and reversed grip to swing his blade once more, only for Cao You to block effortlessly. Seizing the flow, Zhang Wu kicked out, but Cao You slipped aside, and with a deft counter, stabbed a cunning, vicious thrust at Zhang Wu’s right flank.

But instead of dodging, Zhang Wu did the unexpected—he took the blow without flinching, letting the blade bite into his ribs. With a muffled grunt, he seized the spine of Cao You’s blade, enduring the pain, and swung his own sword toward his foe.

“What?!” Cao You had never thought his counter would wound Zhang Wu. As he felt his blade sink into flesh, a sense of foreboding flashed through him. In the blink of an eye, Zhang Wu’s blood-drenched sword was at his neck. Terrified, Cao You tried to retreat, but Zhang Wu’s grip on his blade was unyielding. In desperation, unable to pull back, Cao You could only lift his left arm to block the blow aimed at his throat.

“So ruthless! This is insane…” Ding Li, who had just finished dressing his wound with herbs, was dumbstruck by the scene before him. Especially seeing blood seeping continually from Zhang Wu’s rib wound, he tightened the cloth around his waist, spat out a mouthful of chewed herbs, and stood, gripping his own sword.

“Cao You! This strike is Second Master’s retribution!” Though the two were close, and Zhang Wu’s wound had drained much of his strength, the slash did not severely injure Cao You, but his left arm was temporarily useless. Zhang Wu only furrowed his brow, not even glancing at his own wound; face dark, he gave a cold snort and charged again.

“Damn it! Mad dog!” Cao You gritted his teeth, stumbling back two steps and spitting fiercely to the side. He couldn’t understand Zhang Wu’s madness, but faced with his relentless assault, Cao You had no choice but to meet him head-on once more.

In just a few exchanges, the single-armed Cao You was no match for Zhang Wu, who fought two-handed. Zhang Wu’s strength only seemed to increase with each attack, his assault growing fiercer and swifter, like a man possessed.

Exhausted, Cao You found himself outmatched. In a moment of carelessness, Zhang Wu landed a powerful kick to his chest, sending him stumbling back. As he retreated, Zhang Wu pursued and delivered another heavy slash.

Desperate, Cao You could only lift his blade to block, but the force of the blow sent him staggering backward until he tumbled to the ground. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he rolled and managed to steady himself beside a large tree, half-concealed behind it, gasping for breath, a glimmer of fear in his eyes.

Suddenly, as Zhang Wu, breathing heavily, advanced with his sword, the forest’s stillness shattered with a piercing whistle. The harsh noonday sun slipped through the dense canopy, glinting off the cold steel of a hidden bolt.

“Brother Wu, look out!” Ding Li shouted, darting behind a tree, eyes sharp as he scanned the shadows. But Zhang Wu’s muffled cry had already reached his ears.

“Brother Wu! Are you hurt? Where is it?” Ding Li frowned, worry flickering across his face, but his gaze remained alert—there was still a hidden assassin out there.

“It’s nothing! Didn’t hit the bone!” Kneeling, Zhang Wu glared at the bloodied iron bolt at his feet, then at his wound—his calf had been pierced through. Not fatal, but excruciating, and blood was draining his strength by the second. Dizzy with blood loss, he fought to stay conscious.

“Not good!” Hiding behind the tree, Ding Li’s senses sharpened as he caught the faint sound of a crossbow being cocked. In a flash, he sprang from cover like a leopard, rolling across the ground, snatching up a fallen crossbow as he moved. Eyes darting, he lunged toward Zhang Wu’s position, sword ready.

Twang! Twang! Clang! Two crossbow bolts zipped through the air. Ding Li’s sword flashed, deflecting one, and without pause, he charged toward the direction the shot had come from, tossing a warning over his shoulder: “Brother Wu, take care of yourself!”

“Be careful, Li! I’m still good!” That split second had left Zhang Wu cold with fear—had it not been for Ding Li’s intervention, the bolt might have struck his throat. Gritting his teeth, Zhang Wu stood, sword in hand, senses straining for any threat, wary of both the hidden assassin and Cao You, who could strike again at any moment.

“Zhang Wu, you—ah!” Cao You, realizing it was his ally who had intervened, felt his own pain lessen at the sight of Zhang Wu’s fresh wound. But as he rose from behind the tree, agony tore through his flank—a short dagger had been driven deep into his side. With a cry, he slumped back against the tree, eyes blazing with fury, teeth clenched tight as Ding Li darted through the forest, moving ever closer.

Dozens of meters away, up in a tree, a black-clad figure dressed like Cao You watched Ding Li dash about below, unable to fathom his intentions but intensely wary. In the trunk beside his face, a heavy iron bolt had sunk deep, its chill radiating even from a hand’s width away.

Still as a maiden, swift as a startled hare. The phrase drifted into the black-clad man’s mind as he watched Ding Li—who, unnoticed at first, now drew his undivided attention. This unconscious shift gave rise to a deep unease, stronger even than the day Zhang Mingzhi was ambushed at the inn in Fuxu Town.

For mere seconds, Ding Li’s movements seemed aimless, his intent unreadable. But as a shaft of sunlight pierced the dense leaves and struck his hand, a sudden gleam flashed—a split-second flicker that startled the assassin.

In the next instant, Ding Li spun, raising his newly-cocked crossbow, the arrowhead glinting coldly as it aimed straight for the man in the tree.

Twang!

Without hesitation, though untrained, Ding Li’s innate martial talent made the crossbow an extension of his will—perhaps not masterful, but more than competent.

“Huh?!” The assassin, feeling the chill of death approach, kicked off the trunk, twisting in midair to dodge the bolt. Only then did he realize Ding Li’s erratic movements had been a ploy to distract him while reloading the crossbow.

Twang!

In midair, the black-clad man fired his own loaded crossbow at Ding Li, then twisted his waist to swing a gleaming scimitar hard into a thick branch, absorbing most of his landing force before dropping safely to the ground.

Ding Li, who had already been zigzagging, dove aside at the sound of the crossbow string, crashing into a tree. Unsteady, he quickly pulled a cold bolt from his waist, reloaded and cocked the crossbow with practiced ease, and grasped his sword once more.

Leaning against the tree, he tilted his head back, eyes closed, took a deep breath, then sprang up, circling around the trunk to raise his crossbow again. In his sights were both the hidden attacker and another glinting iron bolt, just like his own.