Chapter 25: The Vicious Ghost

Wealth and women—what else would one go to war for?

Tataro’s generosity was so grand that it was hard for the men not to be swayed. Some began to think that, after all, Tataro was the trusted nephew of the Shutu King; he certainly had vision. It stood to reason, for why else would they have followed him so doggedly until now?

If only this hadn't happened today…

"Shall we give it another push tonight?"

"We must use polearms to restrain him, then strike with heavy bows. I refuse to believe he has an immortal body."

"True. If he were truly immortal, he wouldn't have retreated at dusk."

The Hu tribesmen found the plan increasingly feasible, offering various strategies to restrain Su Yao, wishing they could cut him down on the spot.

"Good!" Tataro clenched his fists in excitement. "Go mobilize everyone! We attack the fortress tonight!"

"Report!"

"Commander! Disaster! The Han have launched a night raid!"

Tataro’s face darkened. "How many are there?"

"O-one! It’s that same Han general!"

"What?!"

They rushed out of the tent to see the camp ablaze. A knight in silver armor on a white horse, draped in a red cloak, was charging through the chaos with a spear in one hand and a torch in the other. He left a trail of fire and destruction in his wake, occasionally shouting something about the flames purifying all things.

"Damn it! Arrogant! This is too arrogant!"

Tataro stared wide-eyed. Though the intruder had changed his armor and weapon, that look of utter contempt was one Tataro would never forget for the rest of his life.

"Men! Go stop him!"

The soldiers, already exhausted and skittish as birds startled by a bowstring, could not withstand another blow. If this Han general were to wreck his camp again tonight and escape unscathed, Tataro would have no choice but to pack up and flee.

But to stop him... was it even possible?

With no pre-battle mobilization and the officers all gathered here for a meeting, what could he do with these scattered, panicking soldiers?

Tataro shouted orders, but few responded. He couldn't even muster fifty men! Besides the few sentries on duty, only a handful of alert soldiers had picked up their weapons. The rest were either running about in a blind panic, disrupting the morale, or hiding in their tents, unsure of what to do.

"This is a disaster," one centurion lamented.

"Never mind him, beat the drums! Call everyone out!" another centurion suggested.

The buzzing, chaotic voices of the centurions echoed in his ears, but Tataro seemed not to hear them. His world had come to a standstill; only that crimson figure galloping through the camp remained in motion. In his eyes, Su Yao was a demon from hell, leaving nothing but fire and death in his path.

Just as he stood there, frozen in shock, something happened that made his blood run cold.

The demon had seen him!

*Oh? Dressed quite nicely. A high-ranking officer? A boss or a VIP?*

Su Yao felt instinctively that this was a big catch. He tossed the torch aside, leveled his spear, and charged straight at Tataro with renewed focus.

"Protect the commander!"

"Help! Someone help!"

"My lord, retreat!"

Realizing they were the target, the centurions panicked. They scrambled to grab Tataro and drag him toward the rear. But two legs could never outrun four, and their frantic efforts to shield Tataro only confirmed to Su Yao that this was indeed a prize worth taking.

With a leap, his horse vaulted over the barricade. After knocking down two loyal bodyguards, he was suddenly behind the Xiongnu officers. In the ensuing chaos, a flash of cold light pierced the air. Tataro’s chest was run through, and his body was lifted high on the shaft of the spear.

"Enemy slain, I shall strip his armor!"

"Mother of God—"

"Commander!"

"Lord Tataro!"

The centurions cried out in horror. The commander who had been rallying them just moments ago was now skewered like a piece of meat before their eyes. With a flick, Su Yao flung the corpse away, where it flopped onto the ground, twisting into an unnatural shape.

"Next. Who’s next?"

Su Yao sat high in his saddle, his spear tip pointing loosely at the remaining "mobs."

*Thump.*

*Thump-thump.*

*Thump-thump-thump...*

The centurions scrambled to their knees one after another. No one dared to resist further. With their commanders captured, the soldiers either fled or surrendered, becoming fresh prisoners. Thus, the defense of the Wang family fortress came to an end.

"That's it?" Su Yao pouted. He still had backup plans ready.

Not far away, the fortress gates had only just opened, and hundreds of torches were surging toward them. According to the plan, they had distributed weapons to the villagers, waiting for Su Yao to create chaos so they could launch a pincer attack. Who knew the enemy would be such pushovers? There wasn't even a proper boss fight, and the collapse was so rapid that he could see a massive amount of experience points slipping through his fingers.

No, the real tragedy was that he had only just warmed up. He hadn't had his fill of the slaughter yet.

"Little brother, worry not. I have already contacted Zhi-shu to intercept them on the road. Come, let us return in peace."

Lü Bu, who had entered the fray despite his injuries, finally found Su Yao in the darkness as he pursued the fleeing remnants. He had sent word to Zhang Yang the moment he spotted the Hu cavalry, and immediately coordinated the pincer attack once Su Yao proposed the night raid.

"Though, in this darkness, Magistrate Zhang might not catch many."

"Little brother, your hatred for evil is truly fierce. To single-handedly take down an entire camp and capture over a hundred Hu is a feat I have never heard of. Rest now; leave some glory for the other brothers."

By the end, Lü Bu’s words were filled with genuine emotion. He was numb. This defense was supposed to be his and Zhang Yang’s big moment to shine. Zhang Yang had even returned to camp early to prepare for a pincer strike.

Yet Su Yao’s actions had completely disrupted their plans. Who could have imagined that one man could achieve such a thing? This wasn't a few dozen men—it was a force of at least five or six hundred. Before today, Lü Bu would never have believed it. Yet, having witnessed it from start to finish, he felt more than just shock; he felt dejected.

Because of Su Yao’s peerless performance, everyone else had been reduced to a mere cleanup crew, failing to surpass even the merits of Su Yao’s own small squad. Zhang Yang had managed to scoop up some kills and captives, but Lü Bu had effectively done nothing but watch. He let out a heavy sigh; he never thought he, Lü Fengxian, would experience the bitterness of watching someone else take all the glory.

"Let us go, little brother. The Wang family’s victory banquet should be ready. Today, you are the absolute guest of honor."

"Victory banquet?" Su Yao touched his stomach, which growled right on cue.

"Indeed. When we departed, I saw many of the Wang family’s young ladies dressed in their finest, looking quite beautiful. It seems you are in for a treat."

"A treat? Finely dressed? Beautiful???"

Inside the manor’s great hall, Su Yao looked at the girls in Han attire—who looked no older than middle-schoolers—taking turns pouring him wine. His mind was filled with question marks. Was Lü Fengxian a lolicon, or was the game developer just asking to be punched? Su Yao figured one of them had to be the problem.