Three Tartars on horseback galloped past the trench in front of the camp fence, howling.
Although this distance was within his shooting range, Lin Feng still felt they were too fast and he wasn't confident he could hit a vital spot with one arrow.
He needed to wait for a better opportunity.
After circling the camp fence three times and seeing no one emerge from the camp, the Tartars stopped, gathered in a group, and chattered in discussion.
A moment later, a Tartar Soldier took a coil of rope from his horse, tied one end to the saddle, and tossed the other end to another Soldier.
The Tartar Soldier caught the rope and began to climb down into the trench.
Soon, the warhorse pulled that Tartar down to the bottom of the trench, then released the rope.
Clearly, these Tartars were very experienced in how to cross the trench.
A short knife was tied to the end of the rope and thrown up from the bottom of the trench, wrapping twice around the protruding wooden axle at the side of the drawbridge.
The Tartar at the bottom of the trench pulled the rope, felt it was secured, and then slowly pulled himself up the rope.
Seeing a Tartar cross the trench and reach the ground, Cui Yijiao and Li Xiong immediately lost their composure and turned to look at Lin Feng.
As soon as that Tartar used his knife to cut the drawbridge ropes, the drawbridge would fall, and the three Tartars would be able to charge to the front of the camp fence.
These camp fences, made of bound logs, would easily be cut open by them.
Then would come the merciless slaughter; not a single person inside the camp fence would be spared.
Cui Yijiao cautiously approached Lin Feng.
"Sergeant, we should retreat now. The Tartars' horses are fast, or it will be too late."
Lin Feng glared: "What did I just say? If you dare to mention running away again, my knife won't recognize anyone!"
Cui Yijiao could only retreat sheepishly, squatting under the camp fence and whispering to Li Xiong.
Lin Feng stared intently at the Tartar who had crossed the trench.
He watched him draw the curved knife from his waist, approach the drawbridge, aim at the rope on one end of the drawbridge, and swing his knife to cut it.
Although the rope holding the drawbridge was very thick, it couldn't withstand many cuts from him.
Lin Feng found a place with a larger gap, squinted, drew his bow, and aimed at the knife-wielding Tartar.
After two cuts, the thick rope was almost severed, with only one-third still connected to the bridge.
Just as that Tartar raised his knife to cut the rope again, suddenly, the twang of a bowstring sounded.
The Tartars were very familiar with this sound and knew it was bad; he had just intended to duck his body.
He felt a jolt at his neck, and a sharp arrow pierced his neck.
That Tartar Soldier woodenly twisted his body, looking at the camp fence in front of him.
He never expected that a Great Sect person would dare to shoot an arrow at him.
Having come all the way from the Tiezhen Tribe grasslands, no matter if he encountered cities or villages, let alone such a small Beacon Tower.
Upon seeing their iron cavalry, those Great Sect Soldiers would scatter and flee like the wind.
There were also those who cowered inside camp fences, trembling all over, waiting for him to cut open the camp fence, enter, and chop off their heads.
He also heard his comrades across the trench exclaiming in surprise.
And then... there was no then.
The Tartar Soldier fell backward by the drawbridge.
Lin Feng excitedly clenched his fist and swung it forcefully.
Damn it, I knew it wasn't that hard.
Invulnerable to blades and arrows?
Did they think this was cultivation?
Cui Yijiao watched as the Tartar was about to cut the drawbridge ropes, and the next moment, he would charge in on horseback to chop off his head.
Although his legs were shaking violently, he couldn't just sit there and wait for death.
He gave Li Xiong a meaningful look and whispered.
"Go, if we don't go now, no one will be able to leave later. Let this fool hold them off for a moment, at least."
Li Xiong nodded, glanced through a gap in the camp fence, and was about to turn and run backward.
Suddenly, he froze.
Cui Yijiao tugged his collar, stood up, and ran backward.
But after two steps, he saw Li Xiong still standing there motionless, as if he had been scared silly.
"Li Xiong, are you f*cking trying to die?!"
But Li Xiong still didn't move.
Just then, Cui Yijiao heard Wu Er on the Beacon Tower shouting loudly.
"Sergeant is mighty! That f*cking Tartar was shot dead!"
Cui Yijiao turned his head in confusion to look at Lin Feng, seeing him lying prone on the camp fence, observing outside.
He heard the Tartars outside the camp chattering excitedly again.
Hesitantly, Cui Yijiao returned to the front of the camp fence and looked out.
A Tartar with an arrow in his neck had fallen backward by the drawbridge.
Clearly, this was Lin Feng's arrow from earlier, hitting the vital spot in his neck.
Really dead?
Cui Yijiao was stunned. Didn't they say he was invulnerable to blades and arrows?
Could it be that this person wasn't a Tartar?
His mind was muddled, plunging him into temporary confusion.
The two Tartars standing outside the trench were jumping with anxiety.
They drew their bows, nocked arrows, and fired two arrows towards the camp fence.
The arrows all embedded themselves with a thud into the logs, but they couldn't injure the Soldiers.
This was the first time they had encountered effective resistance since entering the Great Sect border, and it had cost them a life.
They wanted to shoot arrows again, but there was no one showing their head.
The Iron Armor Tatar ignored the Soldier's dissuasion, jumped directly into the trench, and pulled himself up the trench edge with the rope.
He vigilantly watched the direction of the camp fence, holding a long knife, approached the drawbridge rope, and swung it with one hand.
The rope, which was already barely hanging on, immediately snapped.
At the same time, a bowstring twanged, and an arrow flew over again.
The iron armor was experienced; upon hearing the bowstring twang, he merely held his long knife horizontally in front of his neck.
With a clang, the arrow struck the blade, creating a shower of sparks, and was deflected away.
Lin Feng sighed: "Impressive."
He waved his hand and shouted: "Are you all dead? Shoot him for me!"
Regarding military conduct, he had seen many TV shows and knew that speaking politely to them wouldn't be very effective.
Unfortunately, those few Soldiers, including the veteran Cui Yijiao, were already numb in their hands and feet; how could they shoot arrows?
Lin Feng couldn't bother with anything else, drew his bow, nocked an arrow, aimed at the Iron Armor Tatar, and shot another arrow.
That Tartar, having blocked an arrow, was quite pleased, strode to the other side of the drawbridge, and swung his knife to cut the rope.
This Iron Armor Tatar was stronger than the Soldier; with just one strike, the thick rope snapped in two with a 'bang'.
The drawbridge crashed down with a 'clank'.
The Iron Armor Tatar turned with a fierce expression; he heard the bowstring twang again, but still disdainfully twisted his body and blocked his neck with the long knife.
With iron armor on his body, he had no fear of arrows.
The bones in his head and face were hard; even if hit, it wouldn't be life-threatening.
Who knew that Lin Feng's arrow was aimed at his eye? Of his entire body, besides his neck, it was his eyes.
Because the eye is a very small target, ordinary archers wouldn't shoot at it.
But Lin Feng was no ordinary archer; for a relatively stable target at such a distance, the eye was no longer a difficult target to hit.
This time, the Iron Armor Tatar did not hear the sound of the arrow striking the blade.
What came instead was a sharp pain in his right eye.
At a distance of less than forty paces, the willow wood bow was still quite powerful; the arrow penetrated deep into the Tartar's eye, going straight through to his brain.
As the drawbridge fell, that Soldier Tartar had already mounted his horse and was about to charge across the drawbridge when he suddenly noticed the Iron Armor Tatar hit by an arrow and falling to the ground.
Two out of three gone, he didn't even think, turned his horse around, and galloped wildly back the way he came.
Lin Feng also found it strange; everyone said the Tartars were fierce, so why did he run away scared?
Since he came, he shouldn't think about going back.
Lin Feng certainly wouldn't let this Tartar escape; he stood up and drew his bow.
This distance required an elevated shot.
After squinting and finding the correct angle, he pulled back with force.
