Chapter Thirty-Three: The Final Madness

“Oh!” Liang Chuan nodded, reflecting for a moment before asking, “In your expert opinion, third brother, do you think the Bear Troop will be able to take the mountain stronghold swiftly tomorrow? Are there likely to be more traps like the ones we saw today?”

“The Bear Troop suffered a bitter defeat today. Even the third chieftain, White Bear, nearly lost his life. So tomorrow, they’ll attack with all their might. I’d wager they’ll break into the stronghold before noon. As for those dreadful traps, I suspect that was the only episode—they left clues behind, after all.”

Glancing at the anxious pair, Hu San paused and then admonished, “But you two must be careful. In tomorrow’s battle, the third chieftain will surely expend all his forces before the enemy breaches the stronghold, leaving no chance for surrender and inflicting the greatest possible losses on the Bear Troop.”

“So before the Bear Troop sets foot inside the stronghold tomorrow, the fighting will be unimaginably fierce. You must be prepared for that.”

“As for the rest, we can only do our best and leave the outcome to fate.”

The three fell silent. After sitting for a while and sighing, each took his leave.

Down below the mountain, in the Bear Troop’s camp, the groans of White Bear echoed without end.

Bear stood outside for a long while, sighed, then lifted the tent flap and entered.

“Greetings, chief,” the handful of accompanying medics hurriedly saluted.

They called themselves medics, but in truth, they were little more than bandits with a rough knowledge of herbs—more accustomed to wielding blades than medicine. Still, they were better than nothing.

Bear nodded and let his eyes sweep the room, finally settling on White Bear lying on his bed.

White Bear’s left arm was wrapped in thick bandages. He lay facedown, his wounded back exposed, while a village woman carefully applied medicine to his arrow wound.

Each time she dabbed the wound, White Bear howled in pain, causing the woman’s hands to tremble like a leaf, and making his suffering worse with each touch.

Bear could only sigh inwardly at the woman’s clumsiness. She’d been captured on the way here, everyone knew for what purpose. There should have been many more, some of them quite attractive, but in the blaze Hu San had set earlier, most of those frail women had burned to ashes. Those who managed to escape often died in the chaos, and even the ones who survived were so terrified they soon collapsed, gravely ill and near death. In the midst of a forced march, they had no choice but to abandon them to their fates.

“How is the third chieftain’s injury?”

Waving the frightened woman away, Bear stepped forward to apply medicine himself, asking the attending bandits as he worked.

“The shoulder wound isn’t deep—the enemy’s bow wasn’t strong, and the third chieftain has deep reserves of inner strength. A few days’ rest should suffice. But the left arm is another matter. It was already injured in yesterday’s battle, then torn open again in that pit trap, making it much worse. I fear it will hinder the third chieftain’s abilities,” one of the bandits replied.

White Bear immediately snapped, “To hell with your worrying! I know my own body. Tomorrow I’ll make that little brat pay for this. Damn it, though, it hurts like hell.”

“That’s enough. All of you, leave us,” Bear ordered, quieting White Bear’s outburst and dismissing the rest. He found a seat, sat down heavily, and asked in a low voice, “Do you know that boy from today?”

---

“I’ve fought him before. Last time, I suffered a huge loss at his hands—more than half the scouting party died because of him. It was so humiliating I didn’t dare tell you,” White Bear said, clicking his tongue in embarrassment before cursing, “That kid’s a menace. He’s already so formidable at such a young age—if he grows up and becomes a true warrior, who knows what he’ll become? We have to kill him tomorrow. And that third chieftain of the stronghold too—those damned traps were so vicious, they deserve to die.”

At this, Bear’s expression grew grim.

The Bear Squad was his pride, built up through years of effort. Xiong Ba was his leading general, yet now he’d lost them all to this insignificant Wolf Fang stronghold—a bitter irony for a seasoned hunter.

With nearly the entire Bear Squad wiped out, and only a few wounded left, rebuilding would take countless days and nights. The thought made Bear’s heart bleed with hatred for the Wolf Fang stronghold’s leaders, especially the third chieftain and Hu San—he wished he could tear them limb from limb.

“Those traps were a massive undertaking—no way they were set up overnight. Anyone who looked closely could see the flaws, so I doubt there’ll be more,” he said darkly.

“Tomorrow I’ll lead the charge myself—I’ll wipe out Wolf Fang stronghold and finally ease this grudge,” Bear vowed. “If you’re fit to fight, you’ll come with me. You take the boy—I won’t allow him to escape. I’ll handle the third chieftain.”

White Bear, still lying on his bed, was overjoyed at this and thumped his chest. “Don’t worry, big brother. This is just a scratch. A good night’s sleep and I’ll be ready to settle the score tomorrow.”

“Good. Rest well.”

Bear nodded and left the tent, instructing the bandits outside to take proper care and not be negligent.

In the chill night air, Bear gazed at the bright moon, feeling as if a heavy stone weighed on his heart.

Today’s battle had been nothing like he expected. No matter how he looked at it, the resistance at Wolf Fang stronghold was fiercer than it should have been, as if they’d been well prepared.

The more he thought about it, the stronger his unease grew, as if some calamity was about to befall them. Yet in these circumstances, all he could do was take Wolf Fang stronghold as quickly as possible.

At the first glimmer of dawn, the Bear Troop launched their assault. As Hu San had predicted, the entire force was mobilized, with Bear and White Bear leading the vanguard, surging up the mountainside like a tidal wave.

The third chieftain, too, was different from the day before. He personally led the two sub-commanders and Wolf Heart’s elite bandits to the front lines, coordinating with the first company’s squads.

Most of the first company were newcomers, but young and strong—unlike the previous second company, which was made up of mere boys. With their spears, the terrain’s defenses, and support from experienced bandits, they held their own against the Bear Troop, fighting with surprising effectiveness.

Whether by design or accident, the third chieftain avoided Bear, while White Bear attacked from another direction. Both sides clashed head-on in waves.

The fighting was brutal. Even the most seasoned bandit could be alive one moment and dead the next; once you fell, there was no getting back up.

The third chieftain led the main force in a fighting retreat. By the time they reached the final line of defense before the summit, he was soaked in blood from head to toe.

By then, Hu San, watching from the rear, noted that of the twenty squads in the first company, only three or five remained intact; the rest had been scattered in the carnage.

Most survivors now gathered before the last line of defense, anxiously awaiting the Bear Troop’s advance.

“So ruthless—he’s throwing two thousand lives into the meat grinder,” Hu San muttered, a hard glint in his eye as he bit his lip.

---

The Bear Troop paid dearly for crushing those two thousand young fighters; as the saying goes, for every thousand enemies slain, you lose eight hundred of your own. While not quite that bad, they’d lost at least five or six hundred men. Adding in yesterday’s casualties, and those burned alive by Hu San, over half the Bear Troop was gone—and most of them were elites.

“Charge! Take the mountain! Leave none alive!” Bear roared, clenching his teeth so hard they bled. He hadn’t expected Wolf Fang stronghold to be so tough a nut to crack; if he had another chance, he might never have attacked.

There was no respite for the defenders. The Bear Troop, now burning with rage, pressed the attack with relentless fury. Anyone who could still move threw himself back into the fray. The enemy’s assault surged forward in waves, battering the final line of defense like a storm tide, leaving Hu San with the impression of breakers crashing against a cliff.

“All of you, assemble here! Anyone who dares retreat will answer to me!” the third chieftain shouted, summoning every last bandit to the final line of defense for one last, desperate effort to bleed the Bear Troop.

This was the battle’s final act, and Hu San and his fellows could not escape it.

Luckily, due to their youth and physical size, the third chieftain worried they’d weaken the main force and placed them on the flank, sparing them from the brunt of the Bear Troop’s fury.

In this last stand, the third chieftain and his two sub-commanders led the battered remnants of both the bandits and the first company up front, while Zhou Xing and his men formed a rearguard, facing the Bear Troop head-on.

This time, the third chieftain did not avoid Bear, and the two sub-commanders took on White Bear. As the saying goes, soldier against soldier, general against general—their forces swiftly locked in a savage struggle.

Hu San had thought the battle might drag on, but in less than a moment the situation changed drastically. The third chieftain, fending off Bear’s furious blows, could barely last a few moves and was soon on the verge of defeat.

Meanwhile, the two sub-commanders together could not hold White Bear; in a flash, the one with the purple-marked face had his skull crushed by White Bear’s iron ruler.

A general is the soul of his troops; when a commander falls, even the bravest men waver. The Wolf Fang defenders were already at a disadvantage—now they were like startled birds.

Hu San cut down an attacking bandit and glanced back, only to see the main line beginning to collapse.

Whatever the true difference in strength between Bear and the third chieftain, on this field the latter could barely mount a defense. He was battered about like a rag doll, and if not for the press of men around him, occasionally distracting Bear and giving him a chance to breathe, he would have been killed already. The scar-faced sub-commander facing White Bear was in even direr straits, his head always inches from being smashed by that iron ruler.

At this point, even Zhou Xing and the rear guard, who were supposed to oversee the battle, rushed in to join the fighting—but it was hopeless.

At last, Bear’s saber struck the third chieftain’s hammer handle, knocking both hammers from his hands and sending one careening into a nearby bandit, killing him instantly. The third chieftain himself was kicked five or six paces away, coughing blood and barely able to stand.

For a moment, a strange hush fell over the battlefield. Then, with a triumphant shout, the Bear Troop surged forward with unstoppable momentum, while on the defenders’ side, the scar-faced sub-commander turned and fled from White Bear’s ghastly grin.

Zhou Xing and the battered rear guard likewise retreated at speed, dragging the wounded third chieftain into the main stronghold at the summit, disappearing from sight.

With that, all resistance among the remaining Wolf Fang bandits collapsed. With a thunderous roar, everyone turned and ran—the rout was total, as if a mountain had crumbled.