History Park: Starting with the Imjin War

Zhou Hu gripped his iron spear, his gaze quickly sweeping over the seven men opposite him.

My gaze finally settled on the face of the person in the lead.

This person never drew his sword.

His throat trembled, and he spoke in a skillful, low voice.

"Listen up! It's better to cut off one finger than to injure all ten. Kill the weakest first!"

Hearing this, Mo Qin felt somewhat relieved. Zhou Hu was not only exceptionally strong in martial arts but also a formidable strategist.

If it were an ordinary person, trapped at the edge of the cliff, their first thought would be how to avoid dying.

Those who are even more impulsive are probably already cursing in their hearts, wondering whether they should pounce on another one.

But Zhou Hu is different; after all, he has fought on the battlefield for many years and has been through countless battles!

He first looked for the opponent's weaknesses, figuring out who to eliminate first in order to create an opening and revitalize the game.

The seven people opposite were positioned very neatly, and it was clear that this wasn't their first time working together.

An acquaintance, the short, stocky man with the iron hand, was also standing in front, his figure like a wall that would roll forward.

As for the short spearmen beside him, they were close to his left rear shoulder, with the tips of their spears pressed extremely low, almost hidden in the shadow of Iron Hand.

A little further out, there was a tall, thin man with narrow shoulders and long legs.

Ok?

It turned out to be an acquaintance—the sickle-wielding man who appeared that night!

He held two sickles upside down with both hands, the blades curved deeply, and kept shifting his position slightly.

Mo Qin gave him another look, after all, his left arm had been injured by a sickle before, and this bastard had a penchant for poison!

Further back, there was a man crouching with two daggers.

With his shoulders pulled low and his head never raised, at first glance he looked like an old burlap sack huddled in the snow.

The swordsman and shieldman stood guard to one side; the half-shield was not large, but it perfectly protected the longbow behind him.

The man holding the bow had his back slightly hunched, and his hand was already on the string; judging from his posture, he was ready to fire another arrow at any moment.

As for the person at the very front, he just stood there, without drawing his sword.

During the stalemate, Lin Jun's expression changed slightly.

"They're stalling for time!"

Zhou Hu said in a low voice, "That's right, they're waiting for someone."

Realizing something was wrong, Zhou Hu immediately took half a step forward with his front foot!

The iron spear hadn't even been raised yet, but the aura emanating from him had already changed.

"We can't delay."

"Mochin, help me hold down this iron hand."

"Liu Gao, take half a step forward. Don't actually charge in, just hold them off for now."

"Yan Qi, keep an eye on that bow in the back first."

"Lin Jun, keep an eye on the one with the narrow knife. Speak up as soon as he moves."

"Old Ding!"

Old Ding responded.

"I'm listening."

"Keep an eye on the woods."

No sooner had he finished speaking than Iron Hand struck first.

It's not quite accurate to say they rushed over; it's more like they pressed down on us.

Step by step, my feet crunched on the snow.

But look at him, his two iron gloves are protecting him, the blunt nails on his fists gleaming in the snow, emitting a chilling light.

The spearman followed suit, quickly pressing close to his left shoulder, but lowering the spear tip to conceal the cold star.

The tall, thin man with the sickle also began circling.

He doesn't walk in a straight line; he walks in an arc.

With the two sickles at different heights, the feet felt light, and the weight constantly shifted between the two legs.

Judging from its posture, it looked like it might crawl in at any moment and slice someone open from under the ribs.

Lin Jun stared intently, then suddenly spoke:

"Short spears go first!"

Zhou Hu remained silent, because he had already guessed it.

At the very moment Lin Jun shouted, the short spear indeed emerged from Iron Hand's shoulder.

The target wasn't Zhou Hu, but rather Mo Qin's left chest.

The angle was very insidious; using Iron Hand's half-body as cover, by the time the spear tip was revealed, it was already not far from the person.

It seems they've done their homework on Zhou Hu's reputation, planning to target someone weaker first.

"A scholar should be viewed with new eyes after three days of separation," but Mo Qin did not back down.

However, the white wax spear flicked diagonally, gently pulling along the middle of the shaft.

The force in this area wasn't great, but it deflected the short spearman's line of attack by half a foot.

The spearhead grazed Mo Qin's shoulder, tearing open his cotton armor and revealing the cotton wadding inside.

Just as the spear veered off course, Iron Hand's right fist arrived.

It was indeed a combo!

The punch went straight, aimed directly at the chest, without any fancy moves.

It's hard, heavy, and deadly.

Zhou Hu wasn't blind either; he pressed down with his iron spear first, the shaft sinking down against Tie Shou's forearm and pressing down on his wrist joint.

Iron Hand's punch missed by half an inch, grazing past Mo Qin's chest.

The blunt nail on the knuckles scratched a whitish crack in the cotton armor.

Even when his punch missed its mark, Iron Hand reacted quickly and immediately changed his move.

His left fist followed immediately, striking Zhou Hu's temple from the side.

Zhou Hu, a veteran of countless battles, remained unmoved.

The butt of the gun simply flicked upwards, striking his left wrist.

boom!

That was a sharp impact.

Iron Hand's two fists were simultaneously knocked away, leaving his chest wide open.

"Now!"

Zhou Hu gave a low shout, and Mo Qin rushed forward.

This shot didn't pierce the throat or the heart, but rather the ribs.

It's still on the right side.

Iron gloves can protect the chest, but not the ribs.

No matter how thick the cotton armor is, the seam under the ribs is still completely empty.

When the tip of the gun went in, it was initially blocked, as if it were piercing into a layer of old leather.

The next instant, Mo Qin urged his follow-up move.

The force of his entire body surged up from the soles of his feet, propelling the spear forward a little further.

"puff!"

Then a muffled thud was heard.

Iron Hand froze, his feet leaving a shallow trail in the snow before he stumbled backward.

Blood began to seep out from the tear in the cotton armor.

The right side of my rib area hurts like knives are being ripped into a wound whenever I move it.

The swordsmen and shieldmen immediately stepped forward and used their shields to shield him from behind.

The short spearman swung his spear horizontally, clearing the path of the spear and forcing Mochin to retreat.

"sickle!"

Lin Jun called out again.

The tall, thin man with the sickle had already cut in.

It's the same old routine.

There was no hard rush; we walked in close to the ground.

The right hand wields the sickle upwards, aiming specifically for the softest, most vulnerable spot under the ribs.

The left hand then extends horizontally to block the opponent's retreat.

Mo Qin had just withdrawn his spear stance and didn't have time to block it completely, so he could only press his left arm down.

The blade scraped through the cotton armor, and the familiar scene played out once again.

Another long gash appeared on the outside of his left arm.

Blood gushed out immediately. The bad news was that his skin was broken, but the good news was that the poison had no effect on Mochin!

Thinking he had succeeded, the sickle-wielder's eyes lit up, then his shoulder slumped, and he took another half step closer.

Mo Qin flicked the butt of his spear upwards, striking the sickle-wielding man hard on the chin.

Snapped!

That was incredibly satisfying.

The sickle-wielder's head snapped back, drawing blood instantly. He stumbled back three steps, slipped, and fell to his knees in the snow.

"bow!"

Lin Jun just shouted it out.

But neither Zhou Hu nor Mo Qin turned around.

Because Yan Qi has already made his move.

The bowstring snapped, and the arrow shot out.

The arrow didn't hit the face or heart, but instead aimed for the right shoulder of the archer opposite.

Before the longbowman could even draw his bow fully, his right arm twitched from the arrow.

Immediately, blood splattered on his shoulder, and the quiver tilted, scattering half of its arrows onto the ground.

The swordsman and shieldman tried to turn around and protect them.

Yan Qi quickly nocked his second arrow.

He remembered what his father had taught him years ago: If you hit the target, don't look. Go find the next one.

So Yan Qi didn't even look at the person who had been shot.

Now, all he could see was the narrow gap between the swordsmen and the spearmen.

Once this round was over, the atmosphere on the field immediately changed.

Of the seven, Iron Hand was injured first, Sickle Hand bled, and Longbow lost his right shoulder.

But the man with the narrow sword at the front still didn't draw his sword.

He would only glance at the woods behind him every now and then.

"Still waiting," Lin Jun said in a low voice.

Zhou Hu coldly replied:

"Then we won't let him wait."

"Liu Gao!"

"exist!"

"Enter."

Liu Gao carried the door panel up.

He stopped nagging at this moment and placed the door panel in front of him.

The person crouches halfway forward, the movement is not fast, but each step is very solid.

Seeing this, Iron Hand, despite his injuries, didn't waste any words and threw a punch.

boom!

The entire door panel was immediately dented.

Sawdust flew all over Liu Gao's face.

Forced back half a step by the punch, Liu Gao gritted his teeth and charged forward again.

Iron Hand's second punch followed immediately.

The crack in the door panel suddenly split open from the middle.

The blow was quite powerful, and Liu Gao's arms began to go numb, and the area between his thumb and forefinger felt as if it had been burned.

He glanced at the cracked door panel with a pained expression.

This thing has been with him since he entered the camp. It has guarded the entrance to the shed with him, blocked people, and he even leans against it when he sleeps.

But now it's cracked.

But in this situation, Liu Gao could only grip the door panel even tighter, even if it was cracked, it would still be usable!

As the third punch landed.

With a loud crash, the door panel reached its limit and split in two.

At this point, Liu Gao was left with only half a door panel.

Iron Hand took another step forward, his eyes gleaming with ferocity, clearly intending to take advantage of the situation and smash the dark-skinned boy and the door together.

"Give way half a step."

At this moment, Zhou Hu's voice was extremely low.

Although his legs were shaking, Liu Gao did as instructed.

Just this half step.

The spearman's eyes lit up, thinking he had found an opening.

The spear tip pierced straight out from Iron Hand's shoulder and aimed at Liu Gao's exposed ribs.

"Now!"

Zhou Hu snorted softly.

The iron spear was thrust straight in from the side.

This attack wasn't to save Liu Gao; the real purpose was to seize the short spear.

The spear tip flashed and struck the right wrist of the short spearman holding the shaft.

The short spear slipped from his hand on the spot, and the opponent staggered back several steps in the snow, clutching his wrist in pain until his face turned pale.

Only then did Liu Gao understand why Zhou Hu had asked him to concede half a step.

It's not about selling him out, but about using him as bait to lure the other party into a trap.

A good bait makes for a good angler, and a good angler is also very accurate.

He paused for a moment, then grinned broadly.

"Damn it, so I was the bait!"

"Well done."

Zhou Hu said coldly, "Don't be too happy yet."

Seeing that the short spearmen were at a disadvantage, Iron Hand finally panicked.

He slammed his fists together, producing a muffled thud, and then thrust forward, instantly changing his momentum.

Liu Gao's door panel broke; half a panel couldn't withstand the blow.

Mochin also noticed it.

Iron Hand wanted to finish the fight quickly, but he had been shot in the right rib, and the longer it dragged on, the less worth it would be.

Now we have to risk our lives to take down Liu Gao and disrupt our rhythm.

Zhou Hu's eyes darkened.

"Eat him first."

Upon hearing this, Mo Qin, Liu Gao, and Yan Qi moved almost simultaneously.

Liu Gao lifted half a door panel, not caring at all whether he would be beaten, and desperately pressed himself against it.

Iron Hand's fist slammed into the half-door panel a second time, shattering the wood into pieces.

Liu Gao felt a tightness in his chest, and a metallic taste welled up in his throat.

Even a wrecked ship has three pounds of nails left, so he didn't back down.

Come on!

He yelled, his face turning red, "You think you're all that powerful? My door's got a lot of power too!"

Iron Hand was about to throw another punch.

Yan Qi's arrow came from the side.

This arrow was only meant to distract, and it was aimed at the eye.

Iron Hand instinctively tilted his head and raised his hand to block.

With that one block, the center line in front of his chest was completely exposed.

Zhou Hu's iron spear first pressed down on his left arm, and then pressed his whole body down along the shaft of the spear.

"Mo Qin".

"Um!"

The white wax spear went straight in.

It's still on my right side, still that old wound.

With this strike, Mo Qin used the momentum of his forward charge to thrust his entire waist and hips forward, and the spear went in a little further through the old wound.

Iron Hand seemed to be under Sun Wukong's spell, his body first straightened up, and then he knelt heavily in the snow.

Blood immediately flowed down the gun barrel.

Mo Qin gritted his teeth, twisted his hands, and neatly pulled out the gun.

Iron Hand lay down in the snow, his two iron gloves still on his hands, though now they looked more like two pieces of scrap metal.

The night he was surrounded and attacked by four people, this guy almost broke his own ribs.

Now, this score is finally settled.

With Iron Hand's death, an eerie silence fell over the arena.

The sickle-wielder wiped the blood from his chin, his face finally turning grim.

The spearman retreated to the rear; his right wrist was already useless, and he couldn't grip his weapon for a short time.

The longbowman leaned against the swordsman and shieldman, an arrow wound in his shoulder, making it difficult for him to even draw his bow.

Only the narrow-sword-wielding man, who had been observing from the sidelines, finally placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.

But at that very moment, a soft sound came from the woods.

The sound was like something gently gliding over a withered branch from above.

Everyone's eyes changed.

The knife-wielder's face lit up with joy, and he suddenly drew his knife.

His knife was extremely narrow, with a cold, bluish hue, and judging from its color, it seemed to have been poisoned.

On the left, a figure silently landed on an old pine tree.

The man was unusually tall, almost as tall as Zhou Hu, but his shoulders were not broad. He had a roll of rope slung diagonally across his back, with an iron hook hanging from the end of the rope.

His appearance was characterized by slanted eyes and slightly protruding teeth, making him look like a demon that had crawled out of a nightmare.

After landing, he remained silent, only glancing at the arena as if selecting his opponents.

On the other side, another figure slowly emerged from the shadows of the trees.

This person wasn't particularly tall, but had a very well-proportioned frame, a long face, a high forehead, and a straight nose.

He walked slowly, carrying two swords, one long and one short, at his waist, and looked like a ronin.

Mo Qin glanced at it, as if he had figured something out.

"Goodness."

"Were these people dug out of their graves?"

Lin Jun's eyes brightened slightly, and he lowered his voice:

"Do you recognize the person on the other side?"

"I don't know who the one carrying the rope is. But I think I know who that dual-wielding ronin is! Almost certainly!"

Mo Qin grinned. "Look at that face. He looks like the kind of swordsman who makes a name for himself by being late and taking advantage of others."

The ronin clearly didn't understand, but he still glanced at Mo Qin.

The tall, demon-like figure slowly turned his head away.

Zhou Hu raised his iron spear and said sternly:

"Closer."

"Don't disperse."

As reinforcements arrived, the knife-wielder stepped back and stood in a line with the two men.

The wind and snow swept by, scattering the bloody scent across the ground.

At this moment, the temperature at the cliff mouth dropped a few degrees.