Starting with a Wei Wu soldier

The waiting time did not last an hour.

About half an hour later, from the west, a lean and agile figure emerged like a ghost from a patch of waist-high withered wormwood and quickly ran towards Chen Xing's location. It was one of the two scouts sent out. His breathing was slightly rapid, and his face was covered in dust from his journey, but his eyes remained sharp, and his movements were swift and silent.

"Report—!" The scout knelt on one knee three steps in front of Chen Xing, clasped his hands in salute, and spoke in a low but clearly audible voice, "My lord, we've spotted something five miles to the west!"

Chen Xing's spirits lifted. He exchanged a glance with Chen Wei beside him and said in a deep voice, "Speak!"

"My men discovered a nearly dried-up riverbed about four miles to the west. Searching south along the riverbed, we found a group of refugees about thirty miles away at the foot of a sheltered low slope. Most of them were elderly, weak, women, and children, with fewer than ten able-bodied men. They were being besieged by a band of bandits!" The scout spoke quickly but clearly.

"Bandits?" Chen Xing frowned slightly. "How many of them are there? What's their equipment like? What's the situation with the refugees?"

"There are about fifteen or sixteen bandits, dressed in haphazard clothes, carrying weapons such as ring-pommel swords, wooden clubs, and machetes, but without armor. The refugees are using their vehicles to form a makeshift circular defense, with able-bodied men on the outside and women, children, and the elderly on the inside. Among the refugees is a burly man who seems to be their leader. He is wielding a thick wooden club and is exceptionally brave. He has already knocked down two bandits, but we have also suffered casualties. The situation is critical!" The scout quickly finished reporting what he had observed.

Fifteen or sixteen bandits, thirty or so refugees, including many elderly and infirm... Chen Xing's mind raced. This was an opportunity! An opportunity to make contact with the local inhabitants, learn about the outside world, and even absorb the first batch of non-system population! Moreover, in his eyes, those bandits had transformed from a threat into potential "supply packages" and... objects for establishing authority.

He needed to make this newly arrived guard see blood—no, more blood—to adapt to the killing pace of this era. He also needed a clean and efficient rescue operation to initially establish his image and prestige in this chaotic land.

"What about the other scout?" Chen Wei asked from the side, having considered the matter more thoroughly.

"Reporting to the Commander, Wang Wu is still on guard in place. He ordered me to return immediately and report back. Please give your instructions!"

Chen Xing no longer hesitated, a decisive glint in his eyes. He looked at Chen Wei: "Chen Wei, you leave twenty men behind to guard the horses and supplies, and establish a temporary perimeter here. The rest of you, come with me!"

"Yes, sir!" Chen Wei clasped his hands in acceptance of the order, then turned around and shouted in a low voice, "First and second squads, stay behind! Third, fourth, and fifth squads, check weapons and armor, and follow our lord into battle!"

Upon receiving the order, the seventy-seven Wei soldiers acted without hesitation. The twenty men left behind quickly gathered the captured horses and supplies into a relatively secluded depression and spontaneously took up advantageous positions around them, holding their halberds for guard duty. The seventy-seven men preparing to attack checked their halberds, short swords, and shields again; the armor plates clanged together with a soft, rhythmic sound, and a chilling aura silently permeated the air.

"Lead the way!" Chen Xing ordered the scout.

"My lord, please follow me!" The scout stood up, turned around without hesitation, and hurried along the way. Chen Xing followed, Chen Wei closely beside him, and the seventy-seven heavily armored warriors followed closely behind like a silent torrent of steel, marching in neat and heavy steps.

This march was completely different from the previous desperate escape that Chen Xing had made alone.

With the combined benefits of his knowledge of "Basic Reconnaissance and Counter-Reconnaissance" and his "Ancient Martial Arts Body," Chen Xing felt as light as a feather, his steps steady, easily keeping up with the scouts' pace, and keenly aware of obstacles under his feet and changes in his surroundings. He learned from the scouts, making the most of the terrain and features to conceal his figure and reduce the risk of exposure.

The Wei infantry behind them displayed astonishing military prowess. Clad in heavy armor, they marched across the rugged, desolate ground littered with corpses and debris, yet they maintained their basic formation. Their footsteps, though heavy, were not disorderly, like a giant steel python slithering close to the ground, carrying an unstoppable momentum.

The five-mile journey was quickly left behind during the rapid march. In addition to the lingering stench of blood and decay, new elements gradually mixed into the air—dust, sweat, fear, and the faint sounds of clashing weapons, roars, and cries.

"My lord, it's just behind that low slope ahead!" The scout stopped, lowered his voice, and pointed to a gentle slope not far away.

Chen Xing made a hand gesture, and the entire team stopped instantly, as if a pause button had been pressed. He signaled Chen Wei to lead his men to wait in place, while he, along with the scout and Chen Wei, carefully crawled to the top of the slope, parted the dry grass, and looked down.

The scene before my eyes was more direct and more shocking than the scouts' description.

Below the low slope, in a clearing near the dried-up riverbed, about thirty emaciated, ragged refugees had formed a precarious circle using a few dilapidated donkey carts and handcarts. Inside the circle, women, children, and the elderly huddled together, shivering, their faces etched with despair and fear. Outside the circle, eight or nine able-bodied men, armed with rudimentary weapons—kitchen knives, hoes, and sharpened wooden sticks—were fiercely fighting off a roughly equal number of bandits.

As the scouts had described, these bandits were dressed in a motley collection of clothes, some even wearing ill-fitting, stolen women's dresses, making them look utterly incongruous. They wore cruel and greedy smiles, uttered vulgarities, and attacked haphazardly, but their strength lay in their ruthlessness and physical superiority over the pale-faced young refugees.

Four or five people were lying on the ground, some refugees and some bandits, their blood staining the parched earth.

At the heart of the battle was an exceptionally burly man with dark skin. He was about thirty years old, with a square face, thick eyebrows, and large eyes, now bloodshot like an enraged lion. He wielded a thick, hard wooden stick with tremendous force and power. A bandit attempted to slash at him with a machete, but he dodged to the side, then swiftly swept the stick across the bandit's ribs with a resounding crack. The bandit screamed and flew backward, clearly dead.

"Brother Zhao, be careful!" a woman in the circle exclaimed.

The man known as Brother Zhao had just dealt with one bandit when another attacked from the side with a knife! He was exhausted and hadn't mustered any more strength; he was about to be stabbed!

At the critical moment, Chen Xing no longer hesitated.

He abruptly stood up, no longer concealing himself. His cold gaze swept across the battlefield below the slope, his voice not loud, but carrying an undeniable decisiveness that clearly reached the ears of every Wei soldier behind him:

"Target: the bandits below."

"Chen Wei, take your men, form a formation, and crush them."

"A swift and decisive victory, leaving no survivors."

"Yes, sir!" A cold glint flashed in Chen Wei's eyes. He abruptly drew his sword, swung it forward, and roared, "The lord commands! Form formation—Wedge Formation! Crush them!"

"roar!"

Seventy-seven Wei soldiers let out a short, deep battle roar in unison, like muffled thunder rolling over the hilltop. The next moment, the steel torrent was unleashed once more! With Chen Wei at the absolute vanguard, the entire army, like a heavy arrow released from a bow, charged down the gentle slope towards the chaotic battlefield below with a devastating momentum!

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

The heavy, rhythmic footsteps, like the drumbeats of death, instantly drowned out all the noise on the battlefield!

This sudden turn of events stunned both sides in the conflict.

The refugees watched in horror as the armored army charged down the hilltop. The cold iron armor, the forest of halberds, and the overwhelming murderous aura plunged their already despairing hearts into despair. Were they government troops? Or even more formidable bandits? Neither seemed like a good thing for these lowly refugees.

The bandits were terrified. They had never seen anything like it before. The orderly formation, the superior equipment, and the terrifying killing intent emanating from the silence were completely beyond their comprehension.

"My God! It's government troops!"

"Run!"

"Get out of here!"

With a shout, the bandits, no longer caring about the refugees and their belongings, scattered and fled like startled rabbits, wishing they had two more legs.

However, in the face of heavily armored infantry in formation, especially on this relatively open but not flat terrain, scattered escape seemed so futile.

The Wei infantry's arrowhead formation sliced ​​through solidified butter like a hot knife, instantly catching up with the fleeing bandits.

There were no shouts, no curses, only the "thud" of weapons piercing flesh, the "crack" of bones breaking, and the short, mournful screams of bandits before their deaths.

A long halberd thrust out, piercing the fleeing bandit through the back; a giant shield slammed down, sending the bandit who tried to resist flying, sword and all; some Wei soldiers even threw short halberds, accurately hitting targets dozens of paces away!

The efficiency is outrageously high.

The battle, or rather the massacre, was over in less than thirty breaths.

Fifteen or sixteen bandits, none escaped, all turned into corpses in various poses on the ground. Blood gushed out, soaking the dry land along the riverbed into a muddy mess.

The seventy-seven Wei soldiers, as if performing a trivial task, quickly regrouped, stood at attention with their halberds, and protected Chen Xing in the center. Their black armor was stained with blood, which only added to their ferocity and majesty.

The entire riverbank was shrouded in a deathly silence.

The refugees huddled in the wagon formation, barely daring to breathe, watching in terror as the terrifying army that had suddenly appeared and swiftly wiped out the bandits, and the young man surrounded by the army in the center.

Chen Xing's gaze passed over the corpses of bandits scattered on the ground and landed on the burly man who held a wooden stick and was covered in blood. The man was also looking at him, his eyes filled with shock, doubt, and a hint of relief at surviving a disaster, but more than anything, with awe and vigilance in the face of absolute power.

Chen Xing slowly walked down the gentle slope, Chen Wei following closely behind like a shadow. The heavy footsteps were particularly clear on the silent riverbank.

He stopped about ten paces away from the line of carts, his gaze calmly sweeping over the still-shaken refugees before finally settling on the burly man. He spoke in as gentle a tone as possible, breaking the suffocating silence:

"Gentlemen, there is no need to panic. The bandits have been eliminated."

His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a strange, calming power, slowly spreading across the riverbank shrouded in death and fear.