Chapter 74
Chapter 74
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 74
Chapter Title: Tongman Ancient City
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The sun was dipping low, casting long shadows in the evening light.
A herd of reindeer, driven down from the cold heights, filled the snow-covered plains. They pawed through the unthawed snow, eagerly grazing on moss before the sun set completely.
One playful fawn broke away from the herd, bounding recklessly after a snake it spotted by chance, leading it toward a hill dotted with small rocks.
There, its eyes met those of a wolf lurking in the crevices. Both froze in place.
In that instant, instinct surged through the fawn's veins, screaming danger. It leaped away in fright, bolting back toward the herd.
On cue, over a dozen more wolves burst from the rocks, giving chase.
The startled reindeer herd thundered into flight, shaking the earth. The peaceful plain turned into a battlefield in moments.
The fawn raced desperately, determined not to lose sight of the receding herd.
But its unsteady legs couldn't keep up with the adults fleeing their predator.
In a flash, the fawn was surrounded by dark wolves. One lunged swiftly, pouncing.
At that moment, a large reindeer charged in from nowhere, slamming into the airborne wolf's flank.
Thwack!
Likely the mother.
The wolf, pierced by the sharp antler, tumbled away, blood gushing.
It staggered up and took a few steps before collapsing.
The fawn, spared by a hair's breadth, darted under its mother's legs.
But it was futile. There were still plenty of wolves, and only one adult reindeer to protect the fawn. The predators drooled at the prospect of a double meal.
Grrr...
Grrr...
Two wolves leaped into the air. The mother reindeer met them head-on, antlers lowered in desperate defense.
Thud! Crash! Clack!
Antlers clashed with heads, fangs with horns.
No matter how sharp the reindeer's antlers, it was still a grass-eater at heart.
One wolf mounted its back and sank teeth into the nape. The mother bucked wildly to shake it off, to no avail. She collapsed soon after, and more wolves piled on.
Even in death throes, her legs twitched violently before going still.
The fawn fell too.
By then, the sun had set.
Beneath the afterglow, the wolves began their feast. The reindeer's belly split open, entrails spilling out.
The fawn was tugged by three or four wolves until its groin tore. Soft guts slid from its belly.
Pushed aside by the stronger males, the young wolves snatched up the intestines.
The white snowfield turned crimson with blood in an instant.
The wolves' dinner didn't last long. The older, experienced ones suddenly halted, gazing skyward.
Something darkened the evening sky. A vast, black curtain like storm clouds veiled the emerging stars.
Incredibly, it was alive and moving. What's more, countless wings flapped relentlessly as it bore down on them.
Grrr...!
Grrr...!
The adult wolves bared fangs at the sky. Terrified pups tucked tails and flattened themselves.
Then, the "clouds" plummeted with ferocious speed. They hit the ground and shattered into fragments.
It was a swarm of black bats.
The bats swarmed the wolves, tearing into flesh. In the blink of an eye, the dozen wolves were buried under the horde.
Rrrraaagh!
Rrrraaagh!
The howling adults had bats claw into their eyes.
They leaped, rolled, fled—but thousands of bats stripped their flesh without mercy.
The bats even rooted out the pups hiding in the rocks, ripping them apart indiscriminately.
Moments later, not a single wolf stirred on the plain. The black mass of bats slowly savored their meal.
By then, the moon had risen over the western mountains. And a figure emerged from beyond the hill.
His hair hung wild and disheveled, his fur garments ragged and torn. A short axe and dagger were thrust in his belt, and in one hand, he gripped a staff nearly as tall as himself—like a beast more than a man.
An utterly exhausted beast.
He strode casually through the bat swarm engulfing the carcasses. The bats ignored him entirely, as if long accustomed to each other's presence.
The stranger halted.
His gaze fixed on lights in the distance, across the plain—flickering flames newly kindled, warming the night sky with yellow glow.
"Finally... back."
* * *
Tongman Fortress lay at the southern edge of the Ordos Plateau, an ancient citadel built long ago by a Hun tribe that once ruled these lands during the Great Xia Kingdom.
But with the kingdom's fall, its past glory had faded into history's shadows. The border stronghold that once threatened the Central Plains now lay half-buried in sand as ruins.
Though its splendor was gone, Tongman remained a vital gateway for any traveler crossing the plateau into the Central Plains.
Even in ruins, the surviving walls offered shelter from desert sandstorms, and it was the only nearby source of water.
Long ago, someone recognized this value and set up a roadside inn. More like a few tables scattered within the remnants of the old walls than a proper establishment.
On that tiny patch of ground, all sorts gathered, making the inn perpetually chaotic.
Tonight was especially rowdy.
Most patrons were Han merchants, clustered in groups around tables under the walls, eating meat and drinking.
Every one armed with a sword.
But no one paid it much mind. In the wild plateau, where beasts or bandits could strike anytime, armed folk were commonplace.
Meanwhile, under the western wall, Mongols with topknots sat on the bare ground without tables.
From early evening, they'd built a roaring bonfire and roasted a whole sheep on a long spit, guzzling liquor noisily. About a dozen strong, with curved scimitars like crescent moons nearby—typical of mounted nomads.
Then, over a dozen mounted warriors appeared, escorting a single carriage. Cloaked in wind capes against the biting northern cold and harsh sun, topped with conical hats, they exuded authority.
Sure enough.
The carriage bore the banner of the Thousand Li Escort Agency.
Diners mid-laugh fell silent, eyes turning to the newcomers.
But soon, chatter and feasting resumed.
At a suitable spot, the hat-wearers dismounted with practiced ease.
Anyone with a keen eye would notice they subtly formed a perimeter around the carriage, like a security screen.
Even so, it wasn't unusual. The Thousand Li Agency was renowned for strict discipline among escorts who lived by guarding goods.
In an inn crawling with armed men, prioritizing the cargo came first.
"Welcome!"
A waiter in his late twenties burst from the kitchen, wiping hands on his apron. His back bent automatically at the sight of customers—well-trained.
"Got any boiled beans?"
One burly hat-wearer asked.
"For the horses, right? I'll boil some up fresh. Never heard of Thousand Li Agency before—must've come from far away?"
"Enough water with 'em to feed the horses."
The man ignored the question, issuing orders. The waiter looked awkward for a moment, then grinned again.
"That it? Just you ten?"
"Why ask?"
"Need to know numbers to serve properly. Crossing the steppe means jerky every meal—how about steamed chicken stuffed with warm liquor and veggies? So tender, it'll thank your gut for the break from that jerky. Heh heh heh."
"Humans don't need any."
"Pardon?"
The waiter gaped up at him like he'd spouted nonsense.
The escort pulled a money pouch from his bosom and dropped it in the waiter's hand—go feed the horses water and beans.
"Can't do that. We don't dig holes for a living. Take a table first, order something—gotta wet our own throats too."
"We'll leave soon."
"Crossing the desert tonight?"
Tongman sat at the plateau's southern end; beyond lay barren sands whipped by gales. Only after traversing them could one reach Shaanxi Province.
A swift march made it a day's journey—short enough, but deserts were unforgiving. Rash travelers met mishaps, hence the stopover.
"Yes."
The boisterous diners hushed again, eavesdropping.
"First time here?"
"Why ask?"
"Even mangy dogs bark loudest at home. With my ten years slinging plates here, mind a word of advice?"
The waiter's tongue was slick.
Curious, the escort nodded lightly.
"Don't cross the desert at night—for your own good. Heard of the Red Wind Sands...?"
He trailed off, gauging the reaction. Seeing a flicker of unease, he pressed on.
"Didn't know? This is their turf. Fierce bandits who spot you a hundred li on cloudy days. Wander in blind, and they'll swarm and slaughter."
"Bandits don't care day or night. If Red Wind Sands are that bold, why not raid this inn?"
"Not their style. Would you gut a healthy hen for one egg?"
"What's that mean?"
"Tongman's the only water stop on the Ordos road. If bandits hit here constantly, who'd travel it? So they leave the inn alone."
"Makes sense."
"Don't—stay the night, cross at dawn with the others. That's why these folks wait."
"Safety in numbers?"
"Can't beat Red Wind Sands outright. But a full clash costs them too, so they back off some."
"Bandits scared of losses?"
"Heh heh. As expected of an escort—sharp. Usually, we all chip in toll money. Covers their trouble, no blood, and through we go. Pricey, but fair."
Spot on.
The escort hesitated, undecided.
The waiter drove it home.
"Don't know your destination, but next inn's a day's walk. Start tomorrow morning, reach Shaanxi by the morning after. Still wanna go? Your funeral."
With that, he shouted toward the kitchen without waiting.
"Boil four pecks of beans here!"
"Show us to a table."
Another hat-wearer spoke unexpectedly.
A voice slender and clear. Unmistakably a woman's—and very young.