Chapter 68: Chapter 60: When Fortune Fades, Heroes Lose Their Freedom
Veteran warriors understand blade maintenance better than novices, as the sword in hand is often more reliable than comrades on the battlefield.
Like most of the curved sabers held by grassland warriors, these blades are crafted casually by iron smiths of the grasslands, rough and simple. However, no matter how crudely these sabers are made, the warriors who have followed He Xiqing for years, boasting themselves as eagles, pay great attention to the maintenance of their weapons.
This is the biggest difference between them and the new recruits.
Before following He Xiqing, these grassland eagles had already earned significant reputations within their own small tribes. Compared to ordinary people, they are more combative and keen to compete—of course, many on the grasslands have such temperaments since most men of the northern desert are like this.
But only a few wise ones will notice the need to periodically visit the wizards to sharpen their blades.
Before following He Xiqing, these smart grassland eagles would specifically go to the large tribes after killing eight or ten people, looking for the crazy wizards. The elderly wizards would blow horns to calm their spirits, and the frenzied wizards would beat war drums to soothe their boiling blood. The calm wizards would sharpen the blades while chanting ancient spells, which could return the evil qi on the blades to heaven and earth, and also make the old blades sharper.
And after repeatedly sharpening their weapons, these grassland eagles became braver with each battle.
"Sharpening the axe will not hinder the cutting of firewood..."
Du Chengfeng couldn’t help but sigh upon reaching this part.
Indeed, just as he thought, combining work and rest is essential for sustained warfare, and the veteran grassland soldiers realize this as well.
However, what intrigued Du Chengfeng even more was the use of horns and war drums by the wizards during the blade sharpening. Although the manner in which the grassland wizards chant spells is somewhat convoluted and difficult for him to memorize, after experiencing the horns and war drums many times, he eventually found the answer he most wanted.
"So, the rhythm of the war drums moves the body, and the sound of the horn guides consciousness."
Although he isn’t clear on the specific principle of this, even just following this idea, Du Chengfeng has already thought of several ruthless tricks that will surely bring unexpected surprises to He Xiqing.
Thinking of this, Du Chengfeng felt that today his luck was perhaps too good—just a trip out, and Li Carpenter had already mastered that ancient battle-axe and became a force to reckon with. Afterward, during the blade sharpening process, he obtained the method of using the horn and war drums, gaining the ability to target He Xiqing—like he had sighed before, indeed, when the time is right, heaven and earth assist you.
Plus, with continued sharpening, he might also uncover He Xiqing’s current movements, and this luck was so good it made Du Chengfeng a tad uncomfortable.
But soon, Du Chengfeng understood that his good fortune was not without reason.
Continuing to sharpen the blades, Du Chengfeng also sensed the upcoming experiences of the curved sabers—after He Xiqing arrived at the Qingyang tribe, the owners of these curved sabers, the veteran grassland soldiers, were individually subdued by He Xiqing and willingly became his soldiers. After all, on the grasslands, it is an honor to follow a strong one, especially a man as vast as the sky.
As that man grew stronger, these veteran grassland soldiers felt they were soaring higher just like eagles.
And eagles naturally need to eat meat. He Xiqing often took them out to hunt, preying on disobedient small tribes or simply raiding Jizhou in the south. Whenever they acted, they dressed like bandits to cover their tracks, but unlike most bandits, they did not seek wealth, only death.
This is He Xiqing’s method of training soldiers, saying that true warriors should even control their bloodthirsty evil qi, and those things that don’t kill them will eventually become their strength. A real man doesn’t seek out wizards.
Since a strong one like He Xiqing said so, the self-proclaimed eagle grassland veteran soldiers naturally chose to agree. Hence, under He Xiqing’s leadership, they tore apart every enemy before them like wolves and tigers, devouring all life standing in their way. The bloodthirsty qi indeed made them braver with each fight, and their eyes gradually turned blood-red.
As long as they followed He Xiqing, they would definitely remain undefeated in a hundred battles.
This was a belief shared by all the grassland eagles.
Precisely because of this, they would carry out even a near-crazy order like a nighttime raid on Jizhen without hesitation.
After all, they completely trusted He Xiqing, trusted their big brother, trusted their General.
Breaking through Jizhen was indeed a piece of cake. After a significant slaughter in the market outside the city, they stormed the city itself with ease, filled with bloodthirsty qi. Liu Yanran, who once was quite feared by the grassland warriors as she guarded Jizhou, was also slain by He Xiqing with a single stroke.
If only it ended there.
The grassland eagles thought so.
Then Du Chengfeng saw his own big face in this segment of sealed memory.
"Alright, is it me again?"
Du Chengfeng sighed, knowing it would be like this.
Originally, for these grassland eagles, this should have been a great victory, but due to Du Chengfeng’s few horseback rushes, the momentum of what was to be a great triumph was abruptly halted—and although these grassland eagles considered fighting back, all had dismounted into infantry to conveniently enter the market for slaughter. And by the time they tried to ride to catch up, Du Chengfeng had already galloped away.
Even when He Xiqing personally pursued, it was the same.
In several back-and-forth pulls, He Xiqing couldn’t manage to take down Du Chengfeng, which not only frustrated the originally spirited grassland eagles but also made them utterly disappointed.
Having their own comrade killed and their head unable to avenge them was undoubtedly a severe blow to a troop’s morale—and, more importantly, many had recognized that the fierce one who had killed numerous grassland brothers was likely the very murderer who had slain He Xiqing’s younger brother.
If he couldn’t deal with the murderer of his own brother, was their big brother, their General, truly as strong as he appeared?
Doubts emerged in the hearts of many grassland warriors.
But the subsequent orders made them even sadder.
All grassland warriors were strictly forbidden to exit the city.
In Du Chengfeng’s view, this was actually quite a sound decision. Clearly, He Xiqing saw through his tactics and decided to shrink the defenses to prevent Du Chengfeng from gaining in bloodthirsty qi strength.
However, the majority of grassland warriors could not understand this decision, only feeling that He Xiqing was too cowardly.
Thus, for the sake of his subordinates’ stability, He Xiqing had no choice but to send scout riders under the pretense of reconnaissance before dawn.
To Du Chengfeng, this was also the right thing to do: on one hand, using "information yet to arrive" to appease his grassland eagles, thus buying more time, and on the other hand, acquiring more external information for better strategic decisions.
But the next scene amused Du Chengfeng.
Several grassland nomads with blood-red eyes returned to the city, carrying a comrade’s corpse. On the corpse was a curved saber, which no one dared to pull out.
Until He Xiqing stood before the corpse.
"This too is a bloodthirsty weapon... how many weapons can that person control simultaneously?"
Saying this, He Xiqing drew out the curved saber.
But after pondering briefly, He Xiqing didn’t discard the blade.
Instead, he casually found a sheath to encase the blade, hanging it alongside his personal saber at his waist.
"...You dare to take that?"
Du Chengfeng’s eyes were wide open as he watched.
But he vaguely realized why he suddenly seemed so lucky.
The Unlucky Curved Saber had finally been given to the right person.
Thinking this way, the day’s good fortune made sense. His good luck all stemmed from He Xiqing’s misfortune—the better his luck, naturally, the worse it was for He Xiqing, the enemy.
"This is an opportunity!"
Setting down the last old curved saber, Du Chengfeng’s eyes lit up.
Earlier, he had glimpsed He Xiqing’s fears, and sharpening these sabers just confirmed it. Clearly, in He Xiqing’s eyes, he had become an opponent worthy of standing on the same stage.
And now, he had grasped the timing to strike.
"You’re done for."
After tossing the swords into the storeroom, Du Chengfeng mounted his horse.
The success of matters far exceeded his expectations. The end of this great battle was drawing nearer and nearer.
And he, without a doubt, would be the one who survives.
Du Chengfeng had this resolve.
