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墨書 Inktalez
The villagers quickly gathered. Those with hooks and sickles crouched behind the pit, while others with flails hid beside the walls. Groups of three wielding pitchforks stood back to back. Lin Dahe climbed up the gate tower and saw Scarface leading a charge toward the village entrance—just as they stepped on the first glowing marker!
"Pull!"
The buried ropes suddenly tightened, and the first three bandits fell into the pit, letting out inhuman screams. As the bandits behind them prepared to detour, several flails swept out of the darkness, targeting their kneecaps. The sound of bones shattering mixed with thunder, sending chills down their spines.
"Fire arrows!"
Lin Dahe pulled the trigger of his crossbow, and bamboo arrows tipped with tranquilizer whistled through the air. This modified crossbow could shoot three arrows at once; although its range was less than fifty paces, it was deadly enough in a chaotic rain-soaked battle.
Scarface suddenly blew a bone whistle. The bandits quickly changed formation, five men standing back to back, wielding long knives to slash outward—an improvised version of a mandarin duck formation!
Boom!
A flash of lightning illuminated the battlefield. Lin Dahe finally saw that these "bandits" were wearing matching leather boots, and some even had standard-issue insignia hanging from their waists. The system urgently scanned: [Weapon characteristics match: Wei Su, deserter].
The One-Armed Veteran also noticed something was off; his one eye widened in alarm: "They're soldiers from a mutiny! Be careful of them..."
Before he could finish, a cold arrow shot from the shadows, striking Old Soldier in the shoulder. The old man staggered back a few steps but burst into laughter: "Good! Good! Back in Salhu..."
The second arrow pierced through his thigh. Old Soldier collapsed but continued to swing his steel knife with one arm: "You bastards! Come on!"
The bandits were enraged, and five or six burly men lunged at him. In a critical moment, a small figure leaped down from the rooftop—it was Cui Xiaoman! A glint of silver flashed as she brandished her needles; the foremost bandit suddenly screamed while clutching his eyes.
"Paralysis needles!" she shouted in the rain, "Close your eyes!"
Lin Dahe immediately understood and grabbed a prepared bag of lime, throwing it with all his might. The white powder formed a smoke screen in the rain; those bandits hit by it cried out in agony, stumbling around like headless flies.
Just as the battle seemed to ease, synchronized footsteps suddenly echoed from the south. Lin Dahe's heart sank—it was the second wave of enemies! He was about to raise an alarm when he heard a familiar battle cry:
"Hey yo! Hey yo!"
Li Zhuang's reinforcements had arrived! More than twenty young men charged into the fray with hoes and rakes, led by an old man wielding an odd long spear—it was fashioned from a disassembled plowshare!
"Old buddy!" One-Armed Veteran spat blood but smiled, "Is that plow still sharp?"
"It'll be more than enough for your old bones!" The old man flipped over an attacking bandit with his spear.
The tide of battle turned instantly. The bandits retreated under the pressure of both the mandarin duck formation and lime assault; Scarface blew the retreat whistle. Just as Lin Dahe began to relax, an alarm blared from the system: [Firearm signal detected]!
Outside the village, three shadows were pushing a strange cart—mounted on it was a dark iron tube. Lin Dahe felt his blood run cold: that was a makeshift version of a fléchette gun!
"Get down!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.
Boom!
The cannon's mouth spewed blinding flames. The shell whistled through the air, tearing past the cottages and shattering the eaves of the ancestral hall. Splintered wood flew like a rain of arrows, and Lin Dahe felt a warmth on his cheek, realizing it was blood.
Amidst the smoke, Scarface laughed maniacally as he loaded another round. "Let's see how you all can—"
His boast was abruptly cut off. An arrow, seemingly from nowhere, struck precisely into his throat. Lin Dahe followed the trajectory of the arrow and saw the Mad Old Woman standing atop the burning barn, her longbow still trembling in her hands.
The downpour suddenly intensified. The burning barn gradually extinguished under the relentless rain, as thick smoke and mist intertwined, shrouding the entire battlefield in an eerie gray veil. The system's countdown continued: [45:12:09], while more red dots gathered at the edge of the map...
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