The rebel force was small, but they had the lay of the land. For Prince Colin, launching a direct assault was no easy feat. Using the terrain to their advantage, the rebels made Colin’s troops pay dearly; only at dawn did his men start to turn the tide.
"Charge! Drag out the old, weak, women, and children from the stockade—leave no one else alive. Once it’s cleared, torch the whole place." Prince Colin let his soldiers grab a quick rest and some dry rations, then, with morale at its peak, commanded a full-on assault.
After a night of brutal combat, the rebels were starving and spent. Their numbers were pitiful, while Prince Colin’s men could rotate and rest; the rebels had only their battered bodies to throw against the onslaught.
"Boss, we can’t take much more of this." One night without food or sleep was tough enough, but fighting and staying on edge all night, with more ahead—even men made of iron would crack.
"Boss, we can’t hold the stockade any longer." Nearly a thousand men lost in one night; with barely two hundred left, they wouldn’t even fill the cracks in Prince Colin’s massive army’s teeth.
"Damn it... Instead of living like a pampered imperial prince, he spends every waking moment fighting us tooth and nail." The Bald Leader spat curses, but there was nothing he could do. As Prince Colin’s army closed in, he finally gave up: "Brothers, we’ll split up and run…"
As long as the mountains stand, there will always be firewood.
"Boss, boss, where do we go now?"
"If you don’t know where to go, just follow me…" In a flash, the group scattered. Most went their own way; only a few dozen stuck with the Bald Leader. A handful, convinced escape was impossible, lingered behind, hoping to surrender.
At least surrender offered a shot at survival. Running blindly meant endless suffering—and none of them were willing to risk that.
The Bald Leader noticed the selfish calculations of these men but kept silent. He knew he no longer had the power to let his brothers feast and thrive, but he also refused to keep cowardly, self-serving types around—lest they stab him in the back at a critical moment.
"After them!" Prince Colin spotted the direction those men fled and instantly ordered the idle troops to storm into the woods and hunt them down. As for those who stayed put—thinking a raised hand and a pitiful surrender, dropping their weapons, would somehow wipe away all their crimes—Prince Colin didn’t give them so much as a glance. He simply had them tied up on the spot.
"Haul them back—punish them to the fullest extent of the law." Seven words, but they made the surrendering men collapse in terror, bawling and begging for mercy. They pleaded that they'd seen the error of their ways, that they’d been forced into it, that Prince Colin should spare them for their newfound repentance.
"Gag them and drag them out." Put down the butcher’s knife and instantly become a saint? What a joke. After slaughtering countless innocents, saying "I’ve turned over a new leaf" doesn’t buy you a free pass for all the lives you took.
So those who were killed before—do their deaths just get swept under the rug?
Prince Colin went full iron-fisted, wiping out every last soul in the mountain stronghold. When it was done, he set the whole place ablaze.
Prince Colin never believed that preaching kindness or forgiving criminals would make them change their ways. He only trusted in fighting fire with fire. Only when the price of wrongdoing is too steep will people think twice before crossing the line.
With his troops, Prince Colin scoured the hills relentlessly, carpet-searching every nook and cranny—determined not to let a single rebel slip away.
If even one of these men escaped alive, it meant one more innocent civilian would suffer. That was something Prince Colin refused to allow.
All morning, Prince Colin was busy chasing down rebels, while Serena Feng grew impatient waiting for his updates. She took Feng Jin and set out again, passing once more along that same road as yesterday...
As luck would have it, Serena’s fortune was enough to make Prince Colin green with envy. The Bald Leader, whom Colin had failed to find despite scouring every inch of the hills, was once again run into by Serena.
"You lot—get down here, hand over your horses and silver!" The Bald Leader, flanked by a dozen henchmen, blocked the road, blood still dripping from their blades, the knife tips aimed at Serena’s party with pure thuggish arrogance.
"Prince Colin’s luck really is rotten," Serena quipped as she handed Feng Jin to Mira Tang, then hopped off the carriage to stretch her limbs.
These men had made her waste two extra days—it was about time she vented her frustration on them.
Serena drew her gun and strolled forward, utterly unfazed. "Robbery? Perfect timing—I love robbery too. But you rob for money, I rob for lives."
"Rob for lives? Big words for a little lady." The Bald Leader saw it was a woman and immediately dropped his guard.
They were about forty meters apart when Serena stopped, fingering her gun, her voice slow and deliberate: "Maybe half a month ago, that would’ve been arrogant. But now—do you still think you’re the rebel army that flipped Jiangnan upside down?"
"Who are you? How do you know who we are?" The Bald Leader instantly grew wary, backing up three steps. A creeping suspicion dawned—maybe Prince Colin’s appearance last night was all because of this woman.
"If you still don’t know who I am, you deserve to lose." Bang—Serena fired a shot at his leg while the Bald Leader was distracted.
"Ah—you’re despicable!" The Bald Leader’s right leg buckled, dropping him to one knee. His henchmen rushed forward, panic etched on their faces: "Boss, boss, are you alright...?"
"Get away—I’m fine. You wretched woman, using hidden weapons!" The Bald Leader shoved his men aside, forcing himself upright, planning to rush Serena and take her hostage. But he hadn’t counted on Zuo An, the number one killer, lurking behind Serena. The moment the Bald Leader moved, Zuo An’s sword flashed toward his forehead, while Serena’s gun targeted his other leg.
Bang—Clang—
The two sounds rang out at the same time. The Bald Leader managed to block Zuo An’s sword but couldn’t dodge Serena’s bullet. Shot in both knees, he crashed to the ground with a heavy thud.
"It was you, wasn’t it? You tipped off Prince Colin!" The Bald Leader glared at Serena, his face twisted with rage. His henchmen overheard and went pale, torn between wanting to run and being too afraid to move, their eyes darting nervously toward Serena.
Serena sneered, "Well, at least you’ve got some brains." She turned, her voice as calm as discussing the weather: "Kill them all. Consider it my congratulatory gift to Prince Colin."
Her tone was so casual, it was as if she were talking about the pleasant weather.
The Bald Leader stared at Serena in disbelief. He saw no bloodlust or violence in this woman, yet she had just handed down a death sentence as if it were nothing.
For Zuo An, killing was the easiest thing in the world. These men were already exhausted; running into Zuo An and Serena at this moment was pure bad luck. Not only did they fail to steal a horse, they lost their lives for nothing.
"Twenty-eight men." A quarter of an hour later, Zuo An reported to Serena that all had been taken care of, dead beyond any doubt.
"Leave the bodies by the roadside—Prince Colin will see them when he comes down the mountain." Serena climbed back into the carriage, not a trace of blood on her. Little Feng Jin, completely unaware of what had happened outside, nestled quietly in Serena’s arms, playing with her hand.
Children really are innocent. Mira Tang and Spring lowered their heads silently, having just heard Serena’s kill order. Clearly, she was just like Ninth Royal Uncle—someone who could kill without blinking. They resolved to be extra cautious and loyal in serving her.
Prince Colin didn’t come down the mountain until dusk. He was in a foul mood, thinking about the dozens of rebels who’d slipped away. But when he saw the neat row of corpses by the roadside, he nearly kicked them aside in sheer frustration...
Damn it! He’d spent the whole day searching, only to find these men had already been killed by Zuo An. What was the point of all his effort?
All his hard work today—what was it worth, when those fugitives were already dead at Zuo An’s hands?