The Great Song Dynasty's Soul-Forging in Progress

The twenty-person team was divided into four groups, taking turns patrolling through the mud. The raincoats were long since useless, as the icy rain seeped into every layer of clothing, taking away the last bit of heat from their bodies. The biting cold made several of the young team members' teeth chatter and their faces turn pale.

Inside the watchtower at the northeast corner of the wall, two figures huddled together, trying to draw a meager amount of warmth. The cold autumn rain had been drizzling all day. By nightfall, the rain had not lessened but instead intensified, shrouding the entire Hulu Bay in a damp and chilly darkness.

"Instructor Wang is really something, who would come in this heavy rain..." The younger one couldn't help but complain. His name was Zhao Xiaowu, and he had just turned sixteen.

That's right, Wang Zhonghua and Qin Tiedan are the "coaches" of this young team.

Lu Maoyi, who was standing next to him, immediately glared at him: "Shut up! Instructor Wang said that the worse the weather, the more vigilant we must be!"

Although Lü Maoyi wasn't on duty, as a relative of Lü Sanjun, he knew that Hulu Bay was the foundation of the Lü family and one of their cash cows, so its security was absolutely paramount. Tonight, he volunteered to accompany Du Ziteng on night duty.

As a member of the reconnaissance team, Lü Maoyi possessed a natural, hound-like intuition. He suddenly pricked up his ears; there seemed to be an unusual sound mixed in with the rain—the sound of oars breaking the water, very faint, but unmistakable.

He suddenly poked his head out and, by the dim light emanating from the distillery, vaguely saw several dark figures approaching on the river.

"Not good!" Alarm bells rang in Lü Maoyi's mind. He immediately took out a bamboo whistle and imitated the hooting of an owl, making three short and one long calls.

Almost at the same time the alarm sounded, dozens of crossbow bolts came flying through the air!

"Enemy attack!" Du Ziteng's shout rang out at the same time as the whistle. He reacted quickly, rolling behind the wall to hide. Several arrows were already stuck in the ground where he had been standing.

However, not everyone was so lucky. While Zhao Xiaowu was still in a daze, a crossbow bolt pierced his throat. His eyes widened in disbelief, his hands futilely gripping the shaft, and he slowly fell to the ground.

"Xiao Wu!" Lu Maoyi's eyes were bloodshot, but he could only watch helplessly as his companion died, blood and rainwater mingling together.

At this moment, shouts of battle erupted outside the wall, and a dark mass of figures scaled the wall like ghosts. By the light emanating from the tavern, it could be seen that these people were all dressed in black and masked, wielding steel knives, and moving with agility; they were clearly not ordinary petty thieves.

"Form ranks! Engage the enemy!" Duan Gong's roar came from the other side. The first and second squads quickly assembled upon hearing the alarm, forming a triangular formation that they had practiced for many days to meet the bandits.

Although these peasant youths had trained for more than two months, this was their first real battle. Seeing their comrades die tragically and facing the ferocious bandits, many of them turned pale and their hands gripping their clubs trembled uncontrollably.

"Hold on! Everyone, hold on!" Duan Gong shouted as he parried the incoming steel blades. "Remember the key points from training!"

The triangular formation began to work. Working in groups of three, providing cover for each other and wielding long sticks, they managed to temporarily halt the bandits' offensive.

But there were simply too many bandits. Initial estimates put the number at least two hundred, more than three times the total number of the guards. And these men were clearly desperate criminals, ruthless and merciless, each strike aimed to kill.

One of the guards was caught off guard and was slashed on the shoulder by a steel knife. Blood gushed out instantly, staining his raincoat red.

"Help!" Lü Maoyi led the third squad to the front. They formed a second line of defense and dragged the wounded to the rear.

The battle escalated to a fever pitch from the very beginning. The manor's defense team, relying on the discipline and formation honed through rigorous training, barely managed to hold off an enemy force several times their size. The sounds of clubs clashing against steel blades, the screams of the wounded, and the rushing rain mingled together, creating a chaotic and bloody cacophony.

"Hold on! We must hold on!" Du Ziteng's voice was already hoarse. He wielded his long staff with great force, knocking down two bandits in succession, but more enemies kept pouring in.

The northeast corner of the wall had been breached, and bandits poured in like a tide. Although the guards fought bravely, they were forced to retreat step by step.

At this critical moment, a loud voice pierced through all the noise:

"Brothers, follow me!"

Qin Tiedan, shirtless, charged out of the barracks, his iron rod whistling through the air, and pounced on the enemy like a tiger descending a mountain. Wherever he went, bandits fell, men and horses alike, as he carved a bloody path through the enemy ranks. Ma Nao, Zhang Simao, and other key members of the village protection team followed closely behind.

"It's Instructor Qin!"

"Instructor Qin is here!"

The morale of the team members protecting the village was greatly boosted.

Qin Tiedan, the blacksmith's son, wielded a powerful iron rod, each strike capable of splitting mountains and shattering rocks. In just a few breaths, five or six bandits fell beneath his rod.

"Damn it, no wonder you're a blacksmith!" A sinister laugh came from one of the bandits.

A burly man stepped forward from the crowd, without shouting or making a sound; his mere presence was like an iron tower, commanding the scene. He was easily over nine feet tall, with broad shoulders and a wide waist. His greasy, dark brown short jacket was stretched taut by his muscles, as if it were about to burst. His beard curled back like iron wires, and if one could get closer, one could see a scar on his left cheek that ran from the corner of his eye to the corner of his mouth, the exposed flesh a dark red.

The ghost-head knife in his hand had a blade three feet long, and the seven copper rings on the back of the blade rattled with each step, making the bluestone slabs seem to crack with every step. When his tiger-like eyes swept over everyone, they felt a chill run down their spines—it wasn't a stare, but the look of a hunter scrutinizing his prey.

"Stop him!" Qin Tiedan was fearless, and his iron rod went straight for the other man's head.

"Well done!" The bandit leader raised his knife to meet them.

"clang!"

The clubs and knives clashed, sparks flying. Each took a step back, and the two were evenly matched.

"Interesting!" The thug licked his lips, his eyes flashing with even more ferocity. "Damn it, he's gotten quite the jerk in just a few days. I'm going to make you pay today!"

The two fought fiercely. Qin Tiedan was strong and his moves were heavy, while the leader's swordsmanship was ruthless. For a time, it was difficult to determine who was better.

Like wild dogs smelling blood, the bandits no longer charged directly at the tightly packed triangular formation. Instead, they moved in small groups, using their numerical advantage to flank and divide the enemy. One of the guards had just parried a blade slashing at him from the front when a short spear thrust at his side. He barely managed to turn, the spear tip grazing his ribs and spraying blood. Another guard was tightly entangled by two bandits when a third, grinning maliciously, lunged from behind. A flash of blade, and a horrific wound opened on the guard's back. He let out a short scream and collapsed into a pool of blood, his body still convulsing.

Rainwater washed over the ground, but it couldn't wash away the overwhelming stench of blood. Blood mixed with mud flowed freely across the ground, making it sticky and slippery underfoot. People kept slipping and falling, never to get up again.

After forcing Qin Tiedan away, the bandit leader swung his ghost-headed dagger with a gust of wind at a wooden stick that a village guard was hastily parrying.

"Snap!"

A thick, hardwood staff was cleaved in two with a single blow! The blade, undeterred, sliced ​​diagonally into the team member's collarbone, embedding itself deeply into his chest! The team member's eyes widened in disbelief; a hissing sound escaped his throat as blood gushed from the massive wound like a fountain, instantly staining half his body red. He swayed, the ghost-headed blade embedded in his bone, before collapsing to the ground with a thud, splashing mud and blood everywhere.

Du Ziteng's third squad had retreated to the gate of the brewery; this was the last line of defense.

"Hold on! Hold on, all of you!" Du Ziteng's eyes were bloodshot, and his voice was completely hoarse. There were fewer and fewer of his teammates around him, and each of them was wounded, but they still held the gate tightly.

Seeing this, the burly man laughed loudly: "Brothers, give it your all! If we seize the brewing recipe and kidnap the brewer, we'll be set for life!"

Upon hearing this, the bandits seemed to see mountains of gold and silver glittering in their eyes, and they became even more energetic, launching an even fiercer attack.

The sound of sirens and crossbow bolts piercing the air almost simultaneously tore through the rainy night.

The team protecting the manor was suddenly in dire straits...