Legend of The Young Master

Chapter 155: Attack

The Town Chief drew a breath. "Then, if you are a true lord, you will go and rescue this man's daughter."

Zhai Jiang shook his head. "No. Master Yinhua Han is correct. You must call in your outside farmers and move the people into the fort. Not to send anyone out"

The Town Chief shook his fist. "The convoys are coming. If we close the gates, this town will perish!" He paused. "For the love of heavens, there's money involved!"

Master Yinhua Han shrugged. "I hope the money helps when the swamplings come," he said.

As if on cue, the town bell sounded an alarm.

After the Town Chief stormed off to the town below, Zhai Jiang went out on the wall and saw two farms burning. Master Yinhua Han joined him. "I told him to bring the people in last night," he muttered. "The Town Chief is an idiot. Thanks for trying."

Zhai Jiang watched the plumes of smoke rise, and his stomach did flips. He remembered the Duskreavers near his horse. He had once, single-handedly, fought off four assassins who were targeting his mother. The Duskreavers were much, much worse.Remembering their ghastly smell, he felt bile in his mouth.

He thought of going back to his accommodation and lying down.

Instead, he drank wine. After a cup, he felt strong enough to visit his attendant, who was recovering from terror in the resilient way teenagers do in his bed with a female companion. He left his attendant to cuddle with a servant girl and walked wearily back to the warriors' room, where there was an open cask of wine.

He was on his fourth cup when Master Yinhua Han's fist closed around his cup. "I take it you are a Qi adept warrior," Master Yinhua Han said. "I saw your sword, and you've used it, eh?"

Ser Zhai Jiang got up from his chair. "You dared to check my sword?" he asked.

In Zhai Jiang's noble house, touching a man's weapon was an invasion of privacy and was frowned upon.

The old man grinned mirthlessly. "Listen, my lord. This fort is about to be attacked. I never thought I'd see it in my lifetime. I gather you had a bad day yesterday. Fine.

Now, I need you to stop draining my stock of wine and get your Qi armour on. They'll target the walls in about an hour, unless I miss my guess." He looked around the empty warrior room. "If we fight like heroes and every man does everything he can, we might just make it—I'm still trying to get that fool to send the women into the fort. These aren't normal enemies; they are demonics, my lord.

I gather you've tasted their mettle. Well—here they come again."

Zhai Jiang thought this was a far, far cry from being a useful noble at his cousin's kingdom. And he wondered about his true duty, given the message he had to deliver. Should he gather his attendant and ride west before the demonics close the path?

But there was something about the old man. And besides, the day before he'd run like a coward, even if he'd had the blood of three of the creatures on his sword first.As warrior he decided to take stand.

"I'll fight," he said.

"Good," Master Yinhua Han said. "I'll help, and then I'll give you a wall to command."

Master Yinhua gave him command of a company of crossbowmen—members of the town's guards, all transformed from commoners into defenders. He might have laughed at the irony that he, a cousin to the Duke and here on a political mission, was commanding a band of common-born crossbowmen against demonics. It would have amused him, but...

The Demonics attacked at sunset, emerging from the glare of the setting sun. They went down the fort onto the walls surrounding the town ; only if that failed would they consider retreating to the fort. The fields seemed to crawl with insects, and then, without a shout or signal, the Duskreavers charged and surged toward the walls.

Zhai Jiang had never seen anything like it, and it made his skin crawl. Among them were Yingmo demonics—dozens, fast, elegant, and deadly, scaling the walls as if made of air. His crossbowmen fired volley after volley into the advancing horde, while he paced behind them from corner to corner, murmuring words of encouragement and praising their steadiness.

He knew how to command; he had just never done it before.

The first wave almost breached the wall. A Demonic Yingmo leaped over and began slaughtering the frontline crossbow men. Before he could reach the line, the commoner warriors, instead of fleeing, attacked the creature en masse. It still managed to kill four more men as it died, but the sight of the dead Demonic Yingmo galvanized the beleaguered guards.

It seemed the realization had hit them now that it was dead.

They repelled the second wave. The Demonics had become cautious and were now being led from the rear. Zhai Jiang tried to get his crossbowmen to target them, but there was never a moment when they could do anything but confront the most immediate threat.

A head warrior of the crossbowmen approached him where he stood. The man saluted.

"My lord," he said, "we're almost out of bolts. Each crossbowman brought twenty."

Zhai Jiang blinked. "Where do we get more?"

"I was hoping you would know," said the head warrior.

Zhai Jiang sent one of the warriors to check, but he already knew the answer.

The third wave overwhelmed the walls, and many Demonics entered the town. Many warriors unsheathed their swords and battled the Demonics. Zhai Jiang realized that many of these lesser Demonics had intelligence; instead of attacking his crossbowmen or warriors, the weaker ones ran past them. They managed to clear many of the third wave's Demonics around them.

They needed to be ready for the next wave, but the sounds of fighting changed—there was sudden shrieking in the town, the demonics that ran passed them were attacking commoners and his men started to look over their shoulders.

He wished he had his warrior bodyguard—a veteran of fifty battles. But the man had died protecting him during the ambush, so he had no one to consult for advice.

Zhai Jiang set his jaw and prepared to face his end with valor.

He patrolled the wall again as the shadows lengthened. His section stretched about a hundred paces, end to end—it was a large town, even for someone like Zhai Jiang, who had seen many cities in the empire.

He stopped when he saw three of his men looking back at the town. "Eyes front," he snapped.

"A house on fire!" one of them blurted out.

More men turned and, just like that, he lost them. They turned, and then a demonic Yingmo jumped on the wall, slaughtering them. It moved fluidly, weaving through men with two axes flashing in its clawed hands.

Zhai Jiang watched, as one of the demon's clawed feet struck out, eviscerating a fifteen-year-old who wore no armor.

Zhai Jiang charged. He felt the fear it generated—fear he was trained to confront in his training. He ran through fear without stopping, sword ready—

The creature hit him. It was faster by far, an axe slamming into his arm. Zhai Jiang was well-prepared, his arms covered with Qi which absorbed much of the blow. His expensive Qi armor took the rest. Now, it was his turn to strike.

It had to pivot to face him. The twitch of its hips took a heartbeat, and he swung his sword at the creature, like a boy swinging a toy sword at a large wolf, but with twice the speed.

Zhai Jiang was as shocked as the demonic when his sword caught the creature's axe-hand and cut through it. Demonic blood sprayed, and axe fell.

The demon slashed at him with the left hand, turned, and kicked him with a clawed foot. All four claws pierced his Qi armor and knocked him flat, but none penetrated the padded arming coat beneath his armor.

A crossbow struck the demonic. Not a bolt, but the bow itself, swung by a terrified warrior.

Seeing he was at a disadvantage. The demonic bounded onto the wall, scattering defenders, and jumped down. Zhai Jiang got to his feet.

He was proud of himself for two breaths, then realized that the town behind him was afire. Two more demonics were on the wall with him, and demonic arrows were suddenly everywhere—worse, they were coming from the town.

He had a dozen men by him, including the stunned-looking man who had hit the demonic with his crossbow. The rest of his troops were abandoning the wall, running for their homes.

He shook his head and cursed. They were surrounded, half his men gone, and darkness was falling rapidly.

He made his decision. "Follow me!" he called, and ran along the wall toward the fort, which towered over the western end of town by the river gate. It had its own defensive walls.