Chapter 129: A Fight to the Death! (Second Update)

After mounting the horse, Qin Qingzhi looked back and saw that the foremost of the two mounted swordsmen had reached them. The rider was moving at high speed, closing in from behind and to his side, swinging his long blade horizontally toward Qin Qingzhi’s neck!

Had that blow landed, it would have surely decapitated not only Qin Qingzhi but Qin Cheng as well.

At that critical moment, Qin Cheng let out a sharp shout: "Lean!" He threw his weight diagonally toward the swordsman. Qin Qingzhi, pressed against Qin Cheng’s back, followed his lead in perfect synchronization.

The two leaned just in time; the swordsman’s blade whistled over their heads, slicing off a few stray locks of hair.

As Qin Cheng leaned toward the swordsman, his head passed right beneath the man’s armpit—a fraction of an inch closer and he would have collided with him. With their bodies nearly parallel, Qin Cheng thrust his own blade deep into the swordsman’s chest, then retracted it in a flash.

Earlier, when Qin Cheng had fought his way back along the post road to drive off the pursuing foot soldiers, he had already spotted these two mounted swordsmen. He had calculated that they would arrive exactly as he pulled Qin Qingzhi onto the horse. It was this kind of battlefield intuition—seemingly miraculous in ordinary life but mundane in the heat of combat—that allowed Qin Cheng and Qin Qingzhi to not only evade the surprise attack but also claim the rider’s life.

As the swift swordsman surged past, Qin Cheng and Qin Qingzhi immediately straightened their posture.

The swordsman brushed past them, rode a few paces forward, and glanced down at his chest. He saw the most terrifying sight of his life: bright red blood gushing out like a fountain. His body swayed in the saddle for a moment before he tumbled lifelessly to the ground.

With that swordsman dispatched, the only remaining rider closed in. Before Qin Cheng could react, Qin Qingzhi twisted his body and flung his ring-pommel saber without warning. The blade emitted a faint hum as it plunged directly into the chest of the swordsman, who was less than five paces away.

With these two riders dealt with, the seven or eight remaining foot soldiers were still over twenty paces behind. Without horses, they had no hope of catching up as long as Qin Cheng galloped away.

However, Qin Cheng felt no relief. With the two mounted men dead, he knew he and Qin Qingzhi were in even greater danger.

Sure enough, as the last rider fell, a piercing, teeth-gritting whistle of arrows filled the air behind them.

Almost simultaneously, Qin Cheng pulled hard on the reins—caring nothing for the horse’s pain—forcing it to rear up and stop abruptly. He shouted, "Dismount!" Before Qin Qingzhi could even react, Qin Cheng reached back with his left hand, hauled him off the horse, and they both landed heavily on the ground.

Two people on one horse at a distance of less than thirty paces were nothing but target practice for archers. There were at least ten bowmen hidden in the dense woods lining the road. A single volley would be enough to kill Qin Qingzhi, even if Qin Cheng could survive it.

After hitting the ground, Qin Cheng pulled Qin Qingzhi into a roll behind the horse, using the beast as a shield to evade the majority of the second volley of iron-tipped arrows.

They moved quickly, but the arrows flew faster. The archers' second volley was not in vain; two arrows found their marks, striking Qin Cheng and Qin Qingzhi respectively.

Qin Qingzhi’s shoulder was merely grazed, but an iron arrow buried itself deep into Qin Cheng’s left shoulder.

As the second volley ended, the seven or eight foot soldiers finally caught up.

It seemed these swordsmen had feared that Qin Cheng and Qin Qingzhi might use the cover of the arrow barrage to escape into the woods, which was why they had pressed their pursuit so relentlessly.

Qin Cheng snapped off the shaft of the arrow embedded in his shoulder, stood up alongside Qin Qingzhi, and picked up a blade from one of the fallen swordsmen. Together, they charged toward the approaching enemies.

Qin Cheng did not want to be bogged down by these mysterious assailants. He needed to return to Shanggu as soon as possible to support Li Guang’s campaign at the Great Wall. His strategy had been to break through the encirclement and flee, but the opposition refused to grant him that chance. The dozen or so archers hidden in the woods had become a nightmare he could not shake. It was clear these mysterious swordsmen were intent on leaving him dead on this road.

Since there was no avoiding the fight and the enemy was so ruthless, Qin Cheng stopped thinking only of escape.

There was more than one way to escape. Running away was one, but killing every single opponent was another.

Neither side spoke; there was only the sound of low grunts as they exerted their strength.

Qin Cheng lunged into the fray, his speed surging as he charged straight at the lead swordsman. Seeing Qin Cheng barrel toward him, the man curled his lip in a cold sneer and swung his blade down from overhead.

Just as the blade was about to touch his head and the opponent had no room to adjust, Qin Cheng shifted his feet, pivoted his body to the left, and let the steel slice through the air just inches from his skin.

The swordsman realized his mistake and tried to redirect his strike, but before his arm could muster the force, he felt his body grow light, and his field of vision suddenly spiraled into the air.

While pivoting, Qin Cheng’s right hand had rotated his ring-pommel saber, effortlessly severing the swordsman’s head.

After the kill, Qin Cheng leaned back, bent his knees, and slid across the ground, narrowly dodging the blades of two other attackers.

Using his left palm to shove off the dirt, he angled his body, spun low to the ground, and rose in a fluid motion. As his right foot touched the earth, he was already facing the back of the swordsman who had just attacked him. He slashed his saber diagonally, carving a massive groove into the man's back and spraying a red mist of blood into the air.

Even with their martial prowess, the battle was not easy. Within moments, they had cut the enemy’s numbers in half, leaving only four, but Qin Qingzhi had been struck. Blood soaked his robes; though not fatal, the wound was deep.

Qin Cheng saw the danger. Qin Qingzhi’s reactions were slowing due to his injury, and he had failed to notice a swordsman slipping behind him with a blade raised to strike.

Qin Cheng did not waste breath shouting warnings that would only distract his companion. He lunged forward without hesitation, his blade sliding across the attacker’s throat and drawing another line of blood.

Simultaneously, Qin Qingzhi kicked the man in front of him in the stomach, forcing him back. As he turned, he saw another blade descending toward Qin Cheng’s back.

Acting on pure instinct, Qin Cheng threw himself forward, meeting the incoming blade with his own. With a sharp *clang*, both weapons were knocked from their hands. Qin Cheng immediately forced his opponent back, spun around, and finished off the now-unarmed man.

However, Qin Qingzhi, now without a weapon, faced the same fate as the man Qin Cheng had just killed; he was being pressed back by a swordsman and was on the verge of defeat.

Qin Cheng was too far to reach him in time, so he threw his ring-pommel saber. But just then, the last remaining swordsman kicked him in the back, throwing him off balance and causing the throw to go slightly wide.

In the end, the blade embedded itself in the thigh of the swordsman facing Qin Qingzhi. Qin Cheng rolled forward, rose, and as the enemy swung his blade, stepped in to catch the man’s wrist. Using the momentum of the swordsman’s own strike, he spun behind him, pinning the man’s own blade against his throat.

At that moment, Qin Qingzhi successfully subdued the swordsman with the saber stuck in his thigh, mirroring Qin Cheng’s maneuver.

These were the last two swordsmen. If Qin Cheng and Qin Qingzhi didn't want to be turned into pincushions by the archers, they couldn't kill them immediately. Having fought together many times, they possessed an unspoken rapport.

Blood-drenched, they exchanged a look and began moving toward the dense woods, each using their captive as a human shield.

As long as the archers were in the woods and they were out in the open, they were at the mercy of the enemy. But once they entered the forest, the archers’ fragility would make them easy prey.

The two captives, realizing their fate, stopped struggling. After Qin Cheng and Qin Qingzhi exchanged a glance, the two captives shared a look of their own, a flicker of grim resolve passing between them.

The swordsmen simultaneously drove their own necks into the blades held by Qin Cheng and Qin Qingzhi. The sickening sound of steel biting into flesh echoed clearly. As their eyes rolled back and their bodies went limp, the archers in the woods acted.

*Whish! Whish!*

As the swordsmen committed suicide, the sound of iron arrows tearing through the air rang out. Ten arrows whistled toward the two men who were already pressing their own necks against the blades!

The intent was identical, the timing simultaneous, without a hint of hesitation. For the two captives, death was inevitable; for the archers, they could not allow their doomed comrades to become a threat, and more importantly, this was the only way to expose Qin Cheng and Qin Qingzhi to their fire once more.

It was a fight to the death.

But Qin Cheng and Qin Qingzhi were no amateurs. As the arrows struck the bodies of the dying swordsmen, they hauled the corpses forward, used them as cover to take a massive leap, and dived into the dense forest.

As they vanished into the trees, a series of desperate screams began to erupt from the woods.

The sounds of carnage lasted for at least a quarter of an hour.

When the last scream finally faded into silence, the rhythmic sound of horse hooves returned to the post road.