noveltune Chapter 33: Guarding the Town Gate Alone
Chapter 33: Guarding the Town Gate Alone
The "town wall" of Blackstone Town was never a formidable fortress; it was merely a low dam made of rammed earth and gravel, barely a few feet high in some places, yet wide enough for an adult to step over in a single bound. Years of wind and rain had eroded it beyond recognition, and until last night, no one in the town had given this dilapidated wall a second thought. The eastern section was in the worst condition; rainwater had left the plaster mottled, and wild dogs had dug countless holes in it, now revealing a gaping hole seven or eight feet wide, resembling a gaping, ugly mouth, silently mocking the town's pitiful attempts at defense.
As Lin Yan ventured alone into the dust and smoke outside the town, Shi Hu's one arm had just gripped the woodcutter's knife, and Uncle Zhang's old bones were still struggling to call out to the young men—the hundred or so people, scattered and disorganized, had just reached the edge of the gap when they all stopped in their tracks, their gasps of cold air forming a continuous chorus, like geese whose necks had been grabbed.
Inside and outside the breach, all was a scene of utter devastation. Collapsed adobe bricks shattered into dust, exposed pebbles lay jagged and uneven, and weeds, taller than a person, sprouted from the cracks in the stones. Mixed among them were broken earthenware pots discarded by who-knows-who, with half a dry, hard cornbread hanging from the chipped rim. The scene was already shabby, but the view was frighteningly expansive—through the breach, the wasteland stretched flat to the horizon, and at the edge, a plume of black dust was billowing in like a rising tide, threatening to overflow the banks. In the lead-up to the dust, dozens of green and red lights flickered—the eyes of demonic wolves, green like will-o'-the-wisps on graves, red like blood-soaked agate, churning within them hunger, pain, and a destructive urge to tear everything apart.
The ground first tingled slightly, then gradually the tremors intensified, like muffled thunder rolling across the earth, causing even the broken adobe bricks to crumble and fall. The wolf howls grew closer, rough and sharp, mixed with the scraggling of hooves digging into the ground, piercing eardrums and sending shivers down one's spine. Hands gripping weapons trembled involuntarily, splinters from hoe handles digging into palms, yet the pain remained unbearable—most of these people were farmers carrying hoes, craftsmen wielding hammers, or peddlers carrying loads, their greatest struggles in life nothing more than squabbles with neighbors over a few coins; they had never witnessed such a monstrous charge. The tools in their hands were even more laughable. The hoe was chipped, the machete was rusted, and even the kitchen knife was greasy from cutting meat. Normally, they would have to put in some effort to deal with wild dogs, but now, facing those hundreds of pounds of demonic wolves with fangs and claws as sharp as blades, they were as useless as a rattle in a child's hand.
"Block it...block it! Quickly find something to block it!" Uncle Zhang's voice was hoarse, as if it had been sanded by sandpaper. He rushed forward and hugged a piece of broken wall stone that was half a person's height. The stone was as heavy as if it were filled with lead. The old blacksmith's dark arms were taut, his muscles bulging like old tree roots wrapped around his body, and the veins on his forehead were throbbing, each one clearly visible. But the stone only wobbled slightly and didn't move an inch.
Several daring men followed, stuffing hoe handles, carrying poles, and wooden levers under the stone, shouting "Heave-ho!" their faces flushed red. They finally managed to move the stone a little, placing it at the front of the gap. But the gap was only about a foot wide, like trying to block a breached river with a finger compared to the seven or eight zhang (approximately 33-40 meters) gap—a drop in the ocean.
"Wood! Does anyone have any doors? Bed boards?! Bring them all over!" Shi Hu, with his one arm, swung his machete, the blade striking the mud bricks beside him, kicking up a cloud of dust. He shouted hoarsely, his voice filled with urgency. Several men hurriedly ran back to grab doors from nearby houses. But in their haste, someone made a mistake; they pulled too hard and yanked down half a wall, door frame and all. With a loud crash, dust billowed, blinding everyone, mixed with women's screams, creating chaos like a pot of boiling porridge.
More people, gripping their weapons, stood pale-faced behind the breach, their legs trembling, unable to even stand. The courage that had ignited during the killing of the ringleader last night vanished like a spark extinguished by rain before the overwhelming threat of death. Panic is the most clingy thing, like a cold, venomous snake, crawling up your ankles, tightening your grip on your heart, making it hard to even breathe.
"Where is Lin... Corporal Lin?" someone asked in a trembling voice, his eyes darting around, but there was no sign of Lin Yan anywhere. All they could see was his resolute back, gradually disappearing around the corner of the road outside the town, as if swallowed by smoke and dust.
"He...he went out alone?" These words brought despair to many more faces. Even the most capable soldier, Corporal Lin, had "escaped"? Or...went to his death? Whispers arose, buzzing like mosquitoes in autumn, irritating and annoying.
Just then, a clear, cool, and firm female voice rang out, like a piece of ember thrown into ice water, instantly drowning out the wolf howls and commotion: "Everyone, listen to my command!"
Su Qingyao had somehow already leaped onto the slightly higher mound beside the breach. Her usual moon-white short-sleeved top was now covered in dust, a tear in the hem revealing a light pink lining. Her hair was disheveled, a few strands clinging to her forehead, glistening with fine beads of sweat, yet her back remained ramrod straight, like a poplar tree on a field ridge, unbent. In her hand she gripped a drawn short sword, its blade gleaming coldly in the sunlight, making her features appear even brighter. Her gaze swept over the panicked crowd below, her voice not loud, yet penetrating, clearly reaching everyone's ears: "Sergeant Lin isn't running away! He's going to buy us time to kill the Wolf King! But he needs time! Our mission is here, to hold this breach, to buy him enough time!"
Her words seemed to possess a calming power; the whispers gradually subsided, and even her trembling shoulders seemed to steady themselves. Su Qingyao herself felt the sweat on her palms—how could she not be afraid? The battle of last night was still vivid in her mind; the ferocity of the demon wolf was etched into her bones, but she couldn't panic. Lin Yan had entrusted the town behind him to her, and the lives of these people were in her hands. If she lost control, Black Stone Town would truly be finished.
"Stone Tiger!" Su Qingyao's gaze fell on the one-armed man, her eyes showing no hesitation. "Take your men and use that large rock as cover to form the first line of defense. Long weapons in front, short weapons behind, covering each other. We absolutely cannot let the demon wolves easily break through the gap!"
"Yes!" Shi Hu gritted his teeth and answered, his one arm gripping the wood-chopping knife so tightly it made a "crunching" sound. His twenty-odd men had all seen blood the night before, and although they were afraid, their resolve was ultimately stronger than others. He immediately directed them to spread out behind the large rock, and seven or eight sharpened bamboo spears emerged from the cracks in the rock and from above, their tips still covered with fresh wood shavings. Although very simple, they at least had a certain imposing presence, much like the stubborn sprouts of grass pushing through the cold winter.
"Uncle Zhang!" Su Qingyao turned to the old blacksmith again. Half of his blacksmith shop had burned down last night, and his face was still covered in soot. "Take the rest of the men and immediately gather everything flammable—firewood, dry branches, rags, kerosene! Pile them on both sides and behind the breach! We don't have bows and arrows, so we'll use fire! Wolves are afraid of fire; that's common sense! Hurry!"
Uncle Zhang slapped his forehead, his voice filled with regret: "That's right! Fire! How could I forget that! Quick! Listen to Miss Su! Go find firewood! Butcher Li, you take some men to the backyard of my shop and bring over those barrels of waste oil used for quenching! If you delay this, I'll skin you alive!"
The crowd stirred again. Although still panicked, they were more efficient now that there were clear instructions. Some rushed back into town to fetch bundles of firewood, the blades still damp with dew; others pulled out beams from the collapsed houses that weren't completely rotten—the wood was heavy, and several people carried it, their steps faltering; Butcher Li, indeed, led a few men, huffing and puffing as they carried two half-buckets of black waste oil. The smell was pungent, enough to make anyone dizzy, but at this moment, no one cared about the filth; instead, they saw it as a lifesaver.
"Women, children, and the wounded, all retreat behind the second line of defense!" Su Qingyao's voice rang out again. She pointed to a spot about thirty paces behind the breach, where several stone houses stood. The walls of these houses were made of stone, making them relatively sturdy. "Use these stone houses as cover. Prepare stones, tiles, and boiling water! In case... in case the first line of defense is breached, this will be our last line of defense!" She paused, then added, "Holding this position means holding onto Corporal Lin's retreat, and holding onto our own homes!"
The chaotic scene was finally beginning to regain some order. Fear was still etched on everyone's faces, and their hands and feet were still trembling, but at least they knew what they should do and where they should stand. Su Qingyao breathed a sigh of relief, but her fingertips remained icy cold—she had done all she could; the rest was up to fate, to Lin Yan, and to themselves.
Just then, a series of urgent wolf howls came from outside the breach, and the black "tide" vanguard had already surged in!
First to charge were five or six small, blue-furred demon wolves, relatively small in size but incredibly fast, like arrows released from a bow. Their fur was matted with blood, suggesting they were less seriously injured in last night's battle. Their eyes were red, their fangs bared, with bits of flesh still clinging to them, and they made a "whooshing" sound in their throats, like bellows. Almost without pausing, they charged straight at the makeshift defensive line!
"Hold on!" Shi Hu braced his one arm against the rock, his knuckles white from the force, and roared hoarsely, "Stab!"
Behind him, several men wielding bamboo spears watched the wolf's head draw ever closer. The stench from the wolf's mouth was overwhelming, and fear almost made them drop their grip. But Shi Hu's roar exploded in their ears, and behind them, they heard the heavy breathing of their comrades—breaths that, like theirs, trembled, yet carried a hint of resolute determination. They clenched their teeth, some even biting their lips until they tasted blood, closed their eyes, and channeled all their strength into their arms, thrusting fiercely at the approaching shadow!
"Pfft!" "Ouch—!"
The bamboo spears were, after all, made of hardwood, not steel. Two spears pierced the shoulder and abdomen of the foremost wolf, not deeply into the flesh, but drawing a trail of blood, a glaring red. The excruciating pain caused the wolf to howl in agony, its momentum momentarily halted. But the other wolves had already pounced, their claws crunching on the gravel!
"Crack!" Another sharp sound rang out as a bamboo spear was snapped in two by a wolf's claws, the break jagged and uneven. The man holding the spear instantly suffered a gasp, blood seeping out and flowing down the shaft. He screamed and fell backward, his head hitting the mud bricks, and everything went black. Another wolf nimbly leaped, its front paws resting on a large rock, about to cross the defensive line!
"Get off!" Shi Hu roared, swinging his one-armed woodcutter's knife with all his might, the blade whistling as he slashed towards the wolf's belly! The blade sliced through the wolf's soft fur, leaving a bloody gash, and dark red blood spurted out, splattering all over Shi Hu's face. The wolf, in pain, twisted in mid-air, its claws whistling through the air, aiming for Shi Hu's face!
At the critical moment, a carrying pole swept across and slammed heavily onto the wolf's head with a loud "thud," knocking it to one side. It was Uncle Zhang! The old blacksmith's eyes were bloodshot, the whites of his eyes filled with blood vessels. He threw aside the carrying pole, grabbed half a blue brick from the ground, its corner sharp, and slammed it into the wolf's head. With a "crack," the blue brick shattered, and a red and white substance oozed from the wolf's head.
The demonic wolf whimpered and rolled to the ground, its limbs twitching before it lay still. Uncle Zhang, panting heavily, had a gash on his arm from the wolf's claws; blood dripped down his elbow, staining the ground a small red patch. He seemed oblivious, staring intently at the opening, his voice hoarse: "What are you all standing there for? Keep killing!"
But this was just the beginning. More demonic wolves followed. They no longer charged blindly, but dispersed. Some continued to attack the stone defense line, while others circled around to the sides of the gap. The low earthen walls were no match for them. With a scratch of their claws, the mud bricks crumbled down, and they used the walls as footholds to leap into the town! Some particularly cunning ones even circled around to more distant areas, trying to sneak in from other collapsed sections!
The defensive line was instantly on the verge of collapse. Shi Hu and his men were stretched thin, bamboo spears breaking one after another. Some were scratched by wolf claws, falling with screams, only to be immediately dragged to the back by their comrades who would then take their place. Zhang Bo's iron spear pierced a wolf's throat, but the wolf's fangs grazed his thigh, tearing a bloody gash. Stones and tiles thrown from behind struck the wolves with loud thuds, but failed to injure any vital organs. Instead, they fueled the wolves' ferocity, and their howls grew even more piercing.
"Light it! Light it now!" Su Qingyao's heart leaped into her throat as she saw the defensive line crumbling. She gave the order urgently. Her grip on the short sword tightened, her fingertips brushing against the cold blade, trying to suppress the panic in her heart.
Several men hurriedly tossed torches into the pile of firewood and poured in some waste oil. With a "boom," flames shot up, reaching a height of several feet, billowing thick smoke that made everyone cough. The firelight illuminated half the sky and everyone's faces. The sudden increase in temperature and the blinding light indeed made the few demon wolves at the forefront stop in their tracks. They shrank their necks, growling at the flames, their eyes filled with fear—the saying that demon wolves fear fire was indeed true.
But the flames had a limited range, and the firewood burned quickly, so the crackling flames soon dwindled. Worse still, the wolves began to consciously avoid the fire, launching their attacks from farther, darker corners. One wolf even threw a dry twig into the fire, which, while not causing much of a stir, still made everyone's hearts sink.
"Hold on! Hold on!" Uncle Zhang shouted, brandishing his iron shovel and knocking down another wolf. His voice was hoarse. "Corporal Lin is still outside! We can't let him die in vain!"
Shi Hu's machete was already dulled, so he simply threw it away, grabbed a red-hot charcoal stick, and smashed it into a wolf's eye. The wolf howled in agony, blinded in one eye, and lunged wildly, only to be pierced through the stomach by a bamboo spear by the man beside him. Shi Hu gasped for breath, the wound on his one arm reopening, blood flowing down his arm and onto the ground, mingling with the wolf's blood, indistinguishable from the other. Looking at his dwindling number of brothers around him, only one thought occupied his mind: Hold this place, do not retreat!
The breaches in the defenses were widening, and two monstrous wolves had already rushed in, biting a man carrying firewood. The women in the stone houses behind screamed and poured boiling water on the wolves, scalding them and making them howl, finally driving them away. Despair returned; some men's hands were too weak to hold their weapons, their eyes filled with death.
Su Qingyao swung her sword, repelling a demonic wolf that attempted to attack from the side. The blade grazed the wolf's foreleg, leaving a bloody gash. Panting, she looked towards the edge of town, where dust still billowed, and Lin Yan's figure was nowhere to be seen. Her heart ached terribly, as if something was rife within it.