With the rise of my family, I can summon the Daoist Soldiers' Nest.

The six escort squads quickly disengaged from the convoy formation, their movements clean and efficient. Each squad was led by a third-rate martial artist, totaling six third-rate martial artists, with another seventy or eighty unranked martial artists following closely behind.

They had a clear division of labor—three guard teams would feign an attack on the gate from the front to attract the bandits' attention; while the other three teams would flank from both sides, using the bushes and slopes for cover, and silently climb up the hillside to cut off the bandits' retreat.

Leading the way was the first squad, led by Zhou Wu, a third-rate martial artist, and Zhao Sanpao was also in this squad.

Holding a thick-backed machete, he was followed closely by seven or eight second-rate martial artists, advancing in an arrowhead formation. As they approached the gate, Zhou Wu suddenly raised his hand, and the group stopped instantly.

The captain of the second squad, a third-rate martial artist, who was lying in ambush on the side, had led several members around to the back of the stockade wall and used sharpened wooden stakes to jam the pivot of the stockade gate, so that the gate could only be half open and could not be fully closed.

"Attack!" Zhou Wu shouted in a low voice, leading the charge.

Before the two sentries at the gate could react, he cleaved them in two with a single blow.

At the same time, the third squad threw several lit torches from the other side into the woodpile and hay shed inside the village. Thick smoke immediately rose, causing a commotion among the bandits inside the village.

The third-rate martial artists within the stronghold quickly appeared. A burly man wielding two axes charged out, heading straight for Zhao Tieshan;

Facing the burly man's double axes, Zhou Wu did not retreat but advanced, his cleaver drawing an arc in front of him to deflect the force of the first axe, and then slashing horizontally at the man's ribs.

The burly man roared and swung his axe back at him, but Zhao Tieshan took a step back and attacked closely, striking the man's wrist with the back of his blade, forcing him to drop his axe and retreat.

At this moment, Zhao Sanpao and another second-rate martial artist, who were following behind him, seized the opportunity and handed him short spears from the left and right, stabbing them straight at the strong man's knees. The pain made him kneel down on one knee, and Zhou Wu subdued his throat with a knife. Zhao Sanpao immediately stepped forward and tied up the strong man.

The fifth and sixth squads, which had been feigning an attack from the front, also joined the battle at this time.

Instead of engaging in direct combat, they used their numerical advantage to divide the bandits, forcing dozens of low-level bandits into an open space in the center of the stronghold.

The third-rate martial arts captain commanded from the center, having his team form a circular formation, constantly tightening the encirclement and denying the bandits a chance to regroup and counterattack. Whenever a bandit attempted to break through, two martial arts warriors would attack from both sides, dragging him back into the formation.

The battle was swift; from the initial raid to the control of the entire stronghold, it took less than the time it takes for an incense stick to burn. The bandits within the stronghold were already demoralized, and the fire attack and subsequent division rendered them virtually unable to mount an effective counterattack.

The third-rate martial artists were captured, and the remaining dozen or so second-rate martial artists either died or surrendered. The remaining rabble scattered and fled into the mountains and forests, only to be intercepted by the flanking squads that had been lying in ambush and wiped out one by one.

Finally, Zhou Wu ordered the stockade to be set on fire, reducing the remaining wooden palisades and bandit hideout to ashes.

Amidst billowing smoke, the guards quickly surveyed the battlefield, bound the prisoners, and escorted them back. The entire process was orderly, demonstrating the teamwork and execution they had learned in their regular training.

Lin Ye stood on a high slope in the distance, taking in the entire scene.

He saw that the guards, led by martial artists, had clear division of labor and close cooperation, with each step linked together: frontal assault, flanking maneuver, fire attack to disrupt, and encirclement and annihilation.

Third-rate martial artists are responsible for directly confronting enemy leaders and key nodes, while unranked martial artists are tasked with restraining, harassing, finishing off enemies, and carrying out blockades.

Before long, the guards led the group of prisoners back to the convoy.

They were all tightly bound with ropes, their heads hanging down, their bodies covered in blood and dust, staggering as if they had just been brutally beaten.

"Not bad, well done." Lin Ye got off the carriage and looked at the guard team. "I saw that your teamwork was much better than in the last drill, but you still need to practice more and make your teamwork second nature."

He paused, looked at the prisoners, and his tone turned cold. "Kill all these bandits. Don't take them with you. Hide the rest of the money and grain somewhere and transport them later."

The reason Lin Ye gave this order was that the caravan still needed to travel, and taking prisoners would only cause trouble. Besides, most of these bandits probably turned to banditry because they couldn't survive in the first place.

But he was well aware of the principle of "blood oath." Once you join the bandit gang and have blood on your hands, it's hard to clear your name. Basically, none of them are good people, and he wasn't afraid of killing the wrong person.

Upon hearing this, the bandit who was being held down immediately began to struggle desperately, cursing repeatedly.

The guards showed no mercy; their blades fell, and they began their slaughter without hesitation. The stench of blood quickly filled the air, but those around remained unfazed.

"Wait! I have important information, spare my life!" The burly bandit leader, who was being held down by Zhao Sanpao and his men, immediately shouted at the top of his lungs.

Lin Ye, who was about to return to the carriage, stopped upon hearing the sound. "I won't waste any more words with you. Just one question: What information do you have? If it's useful, I'll spare your life."

The burly man, panting heavily, said urgently, "A couple of days ago, another group of bandits entered Xiang County. They should be led by a second-rate martial artist, and there were about eleven or twelve of them in total."

"How do you know they are bandits? And how do you know there are second-rate martial artists among them?" Lin Ye pressed.

"We originally planned to go down the mountain to rob someone, but we ran into them and failed. I watched them make their move from a distance."

One of our third-rate martial artists was killed after taking only one blow from their leader's henchman. So I reckon there are second-rate martial artists in that group.”

"So how did you survive?" Lin Ye continued to ask.

"I was far away, and when I saw something was wrong, I immediately mounted my horse and ran away. They seemed to be in a hurry too, so they didn't chase me and headed straight for Xiangxian County."

Lin Ye pondered for a moment, "Not bad, it's somewhat useful. The death penalty can be avoided, but punishment is inevitable."

Break both arms and legs, then throw them far away.

Before the other guards could react, Zhao Sanpao had already stepped forward, swung the back of his knife, and smashed it down hard on the bandit leader's legs and hands.

The dull thud of bones breaking was teeth-grinding; the burly man convulsed in pain and then burst into a tirade of curses.

But Zhao Sanpao was quick and swift, and promptly stuffed a rag into his mouth, leaving him only able to make low, hoarse noises.

Lin Ye watched this scene and said calmly, "Not bad." Then he turned and returned to the carriage.

Seeing that Zhao Sanpao not only received praise from the lord but also personally carried out the punishment, the other guards felt somewhat resentful and stepped forward to kick the bandit leader who was paralyzed on the ground a few times to vent their anger.

The burly man was kicked until he curled up, barely alive. Finally, several guards threw him to the side of the road like a sack of potatoes.

The convoy restarted and slowly drove forward.

Just as the convoy had gone some distance, a tall figure came up to the burly man.

Zhao Sanpao kept watching the burly man until he breathed his last before catching up with the convoy again.