THE HUNTER OF DARKNESS

Surprise Attack

The soldier rubbed his chin. If the boy beside him thought that way, why hadn’t he? Who would care for his wife and children if he died? His own spirit dimmed.

"You’re right. Why didn’t I think that way?" he murmured.

"I’ll be back. My stomach’s upset," Fang An clutched his belly and stood. He had to report back to Zhao Wen.

Without waiting for a response, Fang An ran back to where Zhao Wen was waiting.

"Why are you running like that?" Zhao Wen asked as Fang An crouched beside him. "Did they spot you?"

"No, Uncle. I pretended to have a stomachache so they wouldn’t get suspicious," Fang An chuckled.

"You’re not much different from your father," Zhao Wen shook his head. "So, what did you find out?"

"I learned they won’t attack until our forces run out of food."

"No wonder they didn’t attack earlier today!" Zhao Wen growled, clenching a handful of soil tightly.

"What’s our plan now, Uncle? Do we stick to the original?"

Zhao Wen nodded, eyes still fixed on the enemy camp. Though eager to attack the Ying Dynasty soldiers, he knew the Shang Dynasty’s forces weren’t ready to fight at night.

"We stick to the plan. If you’re tired, sleep. I’ll keep watch."

"Shouldn’t you rest, Uncle? You’re older, after all. You need more rest."

"Old, my foot! You brat, you're just like your father!" Zhao Wen couldn’t help but shake his head. "Father and son, cut from the same cloth!"

Fang An chuckled. He could imagine the humorous moments between Zhao Wen and his father, Fang Yun. Without realizing it, he smiled.

"Spirit inside Fang An, come forth!" Zhao Wen joked while placing a hand on Fang An’s head.

"What are you doing, Uncle?"

"You were smiling like you were possessed—just trying to exorcise the spirit!" Zhao Wen chuckled.

"You’re strange, Uncle," Fang An replied.

"Hey, young man! What’s taking so long? Are you birthing a mountain boulder back there?!" shouted the soldier who’d earlier spoken with Fang An.

"Just a moment, Brother! Almost done—it’s right at the edge!" Fang An shouted back, feigning a strained voice.

"Hurry back before someone suspects you!"

"Yes, Uncle!" Fang An stood, donned the soldier’s uniform again, and walked away, pretending to adjust his pants.

Zhao Wen shook his head gently. Seeing Fang An's antics, he thought of Fang Yun, who shared the same spirit. After this war, he planned to visit his old friend at Mount Xuebaoding. It had been over a decade since he’d last seen Fang Yun and Qian Hui. He missed them dearly.

The red-haired young man sat beside the soldier.

"I think I ate something bad earlier... My stomach hurts so much, but it's hard to let it out," he said.

"My name is Liu Zun. What's your name, young man?"

"My name is Wei Hong," Fang An replied casually.

"Wei Hong... I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier. I think you have a point. If you want to leave this place, go. I won’t say a word to anyone. You're still young—you can find other work out there."

"Then what do you think? Should we stay here and give up our lives for a ruler who won’t even ensure prosperity for his soldiers?"

Liu Zun sighed softly.

"I’m confused too, Fang An. My children are still young and need their parents’ care. If I die, who will provide for my family?" His heart grew heavier with doubt.

"In that case, why don’t we just leave, Brother?" Fang An felt pity for Liu Zun. He couldn’t bear to see the man die on the battlefield.

Liu Zun furrowed his brow as he looked at Fang An. The man, around thirty years old, then glanced at a few other soldiers who were dozing off nearby.

"What if I bring the others with me? They’re all my neighbors," Liu Zun said, pointing at four soldiers sitting several meters away.

"Are you sure they’ll agree and not leak this conversation?"

"I’m sure they won’t, Fang An. The news of Elder Qiu Liang and Elder Zeng Kun’s deaths has broken the spirits of many soldiers. They don’t believe they can win this war anymore."

"So those two were named Qiu Liang and Zeng Kun." Fang An smiled inwardly.

"Alright. You may ask them to come. But I’ll leave first so we don’t attract attention."

Liu Zun nodded, then moved toward his companions.

Fang An stood up. After glancing at Liu Zun, he walked away through the rows of soldier tents—deliberately separating himself so he could return to Zhao Wen.

Before long, Fang An had reached the tree where Zhao Wen had been hiding. But his father’s old friend was no longer there.

A branch was suddenly thrown down from above, prompting Fang An to look up.

"Quick, get up here!" Zhao Wen whispered.

Fang An scanned the area. Once he felt it was safe, he leapt upward lightly.

"Why did you move up here, Uncle?" he asked in confusion.

"A patrol passed close by earlier, so I chose to hide up here rather than risk you being confused."

"Oh..." That was all Fang An could say.

"We should prepare. The sun will rise soon. Rest your eyes a bit now! Tomorrow will be very exhausting."

"You should rest, Uncle. Old bones tire easily. Let me take the watch," Fang An chuckled.

Zhao Wen glared at Fang An, who pretended not to notice. He shook his head, seeing how much the boy resembled Fang Yun—always speaking without filter.

Time passed, second by second, minute by minute. The faint light of the sun began to shine through. Fang An woke Zhao Wen, who was leaning against the tree trunk. The head of the Temple of Immortality had fallen into a deep sleep.

"Wake up, Uncle. It’s time for us to move!"

Zhao Wen opened his eyes, then cracked his stiff neck.

He gazed toward the horizon where the sun was rising. He also noticed some soldiers already waking, their faces full of fatigue and hopelessness.

"Are you ready?"

Fang An nodded.

Zhao Wen then gave a quick explanation of the attack points.

"You strike over there, and I’ll go this way!" he said while pointing.

"Understood, Uncle," Fang An replied.

"Remember, do it quickly until they start chasing us! Let’s move."

Zhao Wen leapt down lightly, followed by Fang An.

The two of them walked toward the tents of the Ying Dynasty’s soldiers until they were about fifteen meters away.

Almost simultaneously, they both drew their swords. A green and a blue glow burst from the sacred blades wielded by the two warriors.

"You strike first, Fang An. Now!" Zhao Wen commanded.

Fang An closed his eyes for a brief moment, then reopened them. The bluish light radiating from the Sky Sword intensified as he gathered his inner power.

With a powerful breath, the young man leaped high into the air and slashed his sword forward.