728 Farmerss Counterattack (2/2)

He fell down stiffly with an arrow in one of his eyes.

The arrow's feather was somewhat messy, unlike the standard arm of the Tang Army.

The grassland cavalries were taken aback. They shouted in their language while quickly mounting their horses. Then they took down the short wooden bows from their shoulders and warily watched the woods behind the village.

An arrow whistled through the air.

It shot out of the forest and hit one of them in the shoulder, blood splattering.

Instead of being startled, they became excited. They shouted and urged their horses to encircle the forest.

Judging from the arrow, they were sure that the archers in the forest were not Tang soldiers, but more probably hunters. Many of their brothers in the tribe had been killed by Tang hunters.

Hunters usually appeared in pairs of two or three people, hardly a match against these fine cavalries.

Yang Erxi hid himself behind a tree, clutching his boxwood bow. His shoulder was against the trunk and his right foot stepped gently on the ground. He looked nervous.

Compared to how he had looked when he left home, he was thinner and darker. He had a mess of a beard and chapped, bloody dry lips.

The hoofbeat gradually came forward and the grassland cavalry besieged the forest. He appeared nimbly from behind a tree and drew a bow. The arrow was suddenly released, hitting a cavalryman in the waist.

Confirming that there was only one archer hiding in the forest, the three grassland cavalries held their bows and released several arrows. Yang Erxi was forced to hide behind the tree. Other cavalries drew nearer from the rear.

Drumming came from the trunk, pieces of bark spattered. The arrows just barely missed him.

The grassland cavalries were experienced at dealing with Tang hunters. Yang Erxi could not make a counterattack at all. The only thing he could do was watch the enemy circling the forest.

On the brink of death, he showed no fear, except for his rapid breath.

At this moment, as the whistle of arrows sounded densely, a torrential rain of arrows fell from the mountains.

More than twenty grassland cavalries rushing at the forefront were immediately shot down. They fell from their mounts and died in a bloody mess.

The sound of stepping on grass and rubbing trees rang out. Several people rushed out from the depths of the mountains towards the grassland cavalries like cruel beasts of prey.

The grassland cavalries who were still alive cried in shock and anger. They were terrified. They pulled the reins desperately, trying to run away.

If one could understand their language, he would know the word they cried out was ”ambush”.

They thought they had been ambushed by the Tang Army.

More than a hundred people rushed out from the forest, some in ordinary cotton jackets, others in silk shirts. Most of them were in farmer's attire, not the uniforms of the Tang Army.

They were mostly elderly people, with various weapons in hand, such as the pitch-fork Yang Erxi held. Some were armed with hammers, while the majority of them held straight knives.

The sharp straight knife was the Tang Army's weapon.

Were these people Tang soldiers?

They were not.

But they had been.

They had retired and become businessmen, caravan guards or farmers.

When Tang needed them, they became soldiers of Tang again.

...

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Yang Erxi smashed a cavalryman to the ground. He stepped forward with his hands turned. His heavy pitch-fork pierced into the cavalryman's chest after making an arc in the air.

He walked over, kicked the cavalryman's body, and pulled his pitch-fork up with force. With a poof, several wounds appeared in the cavalryman's chest.

This set of actions was fluent and skilled. He might have repeated it many times.

He held the pitch-fork and ran to a grassland cavalryman surrounded by his companions. With anger, he vowed to himself to get a cutlass today.

”Leave it to me!” he shouted.

The cavalryman had been cut numerous times. He was covered with blood and had totally lost his wits. He leaned against a tree, waving his cutlass automatically with no ability to resist.

The Tangs understood Yang Erxi when he shouted anxiously. They made way and left the enemy to him.

Yang Erxi ran over to the dying cavalryman. He spat in his palm and smashed with his pitch-fork, as naturally as if doing farm work at home.