Two more boulders arced up from behind the village wall—whump—sailing overhead like two very confused celestial bodies. This time, even more villagers tilted their heads back, mouths open, watching the stones carve their dramatic parabola through the sky.
Boom!
Then another.
Boom!
Two fresh boulders landed inside the bandit formation, turning men into a mixture of screams, dust, and shapes that no longer resembled living beings. The bandits' momentum, originally fierce and world-conquering, shriveled instantly. A good portion of them started thinking fondly about retreating, their mothers, or both.
Just moments ago the villagers were trembling like cold chicks, but now—after witnessing such divine-level stone bombardment—their fear evaporated. Someone shouted:
"Haha! Smash these melon-heads to death! Smash harder!"
No one needed to encourage Li Da and Gao Yiyi. They were already sprinting toward the next pair of trebuchets, sledgehammers in hand, like two overexcited blacksmiths competing in a festival event.
At the top of the wall, the Bai family servants and the Gaojia villagers couldn't help glancing back at the smiths—half awe, half disbelief.
Mr. Bai exploded:"Where are you all looking?! Eyes forward! Outside the wall! Archers—ready!"
His roar slapped everyone back to reality. Instantly, their heads snapped forward as a wave of the fiercest thieves closed to within ten paces of the wall.
"Release! Release arrows!"
The Bai servants reacted first—four, five arrows flew out in a neat volley, thunking into several bandits.
Li Daoxuan gave a commentary from outside the diorama, clapping politely:"Excellent marksmanship. Very cinematic."
But the thieves who were hit didn't fall. They simply staggered and kept running. The villagers stared. So did Li Daoxuan.
In the dramas, one arrow equals instant death. Reality, however, was embarrassingly different—more like one arrow = mild annoyance. A bow that could barely pierce a shirt was hardly a threat.
Several bandits fired back—flimsy arrows fluttering upward like malnourished sparrows.
Li Daoxuan tried to pretend he wasn't involved… until one of the arrows floated dangerously close to a villager. With a sigh, he stretched out a casual hand. The arrows bounced off his palm like toys hitting a brick wall.
Only Gao Yiye saw the truth. The bandits assumed the village wall blocked their shots. They did not realize Gaojia Village had secretly activated a "hug the immortal's thigh" cheat code.
Then—two more boulders roared overhead.
The thieves at the back were smashed into full disarray, but the front rank had already reached the wall. Several men heaved up a long ladder, shouting and swearing, propping it against the stones.
"Throw rocks! Pour the oil!" Mr. Bai bellowed.
The Bai servants grabbed stones—big, small, spherical, lopsided—and hurled them down. Each hit produced wet, ugly sounds no one wanted to think too hard about.
Behind them, village women climbed up with kettles of boiling rapeseed oil. Every pot was worth a fortune, and each woman winced internally with every pour—as if someone sliced off a piece of her heart with every ladle.
Still, they poured. Down below, thieves screamed, sizzled, and regretted their entire career choices.
After a few rounds of stone-and-oil bombardment, the formerly timid villagers finally steadied. The air was full of shouts, smoke, and the rumble of flying rocks. Their fear melted into adrenaline.
Gao Chuwu rushed forward, hefting a stone as big as a winter melon."I'll do it!"
Zheng Daniu charged after him."Me too!"
Dozens followed, shouting breathlessly:"We're helping!"
The Bai servants had been nearly overwhelmed, but with villagers joining, the balance flipped instantly. Rocks flew like rain; oil poured like wrath; the first wave of bandits collapsed instantly. The group carrying the giant battering log didn't even make it to the gate—they dropped it and sprinted back, clutching their heads.
But the ladder carriers persisted.
They set up a thick bamboo ladder a few meters away and pushed it forward with a heavy thunk. Several villagers dashed over, intent on shoving it aside.
Mr. Bai roared:"Don't push! How are you going to move a ladder three men thick? Spearmen! Get closer! Stab anyone climbing!"
Before the battle, he had drilled these instructions into the villagers' heads ten thousand times. But once fighting began, their brains turned to steaming rice porridge. Mr. Bai's blood pressure surged with every passing second.
The terrain saved them more than strategy.
A thief climbed up the ladder—one hand gripping bamboo, the other swinging a firewood knife in wild arcs.
But his knife wasn't longer than the villagers' bamboo spears.
A sharpened bamboo tip stabbed him squarely. The man shrieked, toppled backward from a height of two zhang, and hit the ground with a bone-crunching thud. His life bar instantly hit zero.
But the next man up was… different. Big. Thick. Wrapped in layers of cowhide.
A bamboo spear jabbed him—boink—and did nothing.
He climbed steadily, swung his crude knife, and chopped the bamboo spear clean in half. The villagers stumbled back, startled.
He jumped onto the wall and roared proudly:
"I'm called Yi Dao—One Knife! Remember my name! I'll kill you all today!"
Villagers surged toward him.
And Yi Dao truly lived up to his title. Wrapped in cowhide armor, he feared neither spear nor stick, and bullied his way forward like a maddened bull.
He swung his knife down at the first villager—
Zheng!
Instead of flesh, it struck metal.
Yi Dao froze."Iron armor?!"
And that… was when things took a turn.