Where Immortals Once Walked

Chapter 434: Blood Sausage, Pig’s Trotters, and a False Alarm

There was still a long way to go from the border of West Ji to its capital.

The battles ahead allowed no margin for failure. Time was tight, the objectives were heavy, and the dangers were numerous.

Despite the situation they faced, no one present raised any objections to this long-distance raid. General Nanke spoke up at once, “If Old Huyan were still alive, West Ji would be hard to crack. But now that he’s dead, Huyan Zhao is busy consolidating power, so West Ji must be in chaos. If we arrive within seven days, we can definitely catch them off guard. Heh, West Ji’s capital is close to the western line too, which makes it convenient for us to harvest gains. I remember Old Huyan once wanted to move the capital eastward, but the ministers opposed it so fiercely that he had no choice but to give it up.”

Zhong Shengguang planted small flags in the sand table. “General Nanke has already laid out the enemy’s weaknesses. Now let’s talk about their strengths.”

Everyone brainstormed together, covering troop deployments within the State of West Ji, the characteristics of its generals, then moving on to raid routes, attack sequences, and finally the defensive duties around Panlong City during the campaign.

Wen Daolun also gave special attention to analyzing Huyan Zhao, the future ruler of West Ji. After all, he was the true opponent Panlong City would face in this war.

In the end, they even discussed the weather in West Ji over the coming days.

When He Lingchuan heard the Red General mention leading the army against West Ji during the meeting, he shivered outright.

History had finally returned to the familiar track he knew.

He had heard long ago that Panlong City once attacked the small eastern state of West Ji, but later generations never really understood why or how it happened, only that the war came without warning.

Now, he would witness it firsthand.

After hearing his recounting, the members of the Broken Blade Squad were visibly eager. A’Luo nodded as well and said, “The Jinxi Corridor is too dangerous. The lives and livelihoods of over a million people can’t be entrusted to an enemy’s mercy. A road we carve out ourselves, that’s the one that’s safest to walk.”

He Lingchuan smiled and said, “Exactly. We’re just the advance unit. Before the main army sets out, I expect that Lord Zhong will announce everything to the city and explain the stakes clearly. The Huyan Family founded the State of West Ji with several fierce generals and backing from the State of Baling. They did block our eastern return route for a time, but their luck ran thin. Over the past decade, veteran generals and officers died one after another, and the newcomers couldn’t shoulder the burden. The state has been weakening. Now that Old Huyan is dead, this is a heaven-sent opportunity. How could we not take it?”

Doorboard cut in, “Hey, no need for all that grand reasoning. As long as Lord Zhong says we’re attacking West Ji, the whole city will cheer and back it all the way!”

Everyone laughed.

Hu Min suddenly turned to the new squadmate. “Old Yu, tell us what you can do.”

“Me?” Old Yu scratched his head, looking a little shy. “I don’t have any special talents. I just get along well with wild beasts and monsters. I can communicate with them properly.”

“A beastmaster?” Willow raised her eyebrows. “That’s rare.”

This path of cultivation depended far more on talent than hard work. Without an innate affinity, no amount of forced smiling would make wild beasts take to you.

Old Yu laughed it off. “I usually work stationed out on the highland. This time, the Red General called me back for the mission. I’ll be relying on everyone for guidance.”

* * *

Several hours later.

Western mountains of West Ji, Dragon Throat Pass.

Dusk fell, and the West Ji camp began cooking dinner. The aroma drifted all the way up to the walls.

The soldiers on lookout swallowed hard, already counting the minutes until their shift change.

“I heard there’s a wild boar tonight, about two hundred kilograms, a big one. When will it be our turn to go down and eat?”

Though it was early summer, nights in the mountains were still cold.

“The two bastards on the next shift are definitely stuffing themselves before coming up. All the good meat’ll be gone.”

“Why don’t we just head down now? Grab a couple of pieces first.”

The sentry hesitated. “Isn’t that risky? What if we get caught?”

“We’re already past shift change. It’s those two who’re late!” another snapped. “If anyone gets punished, it’ll be them. Oh, look, blood sausage! Who’s the genius that thought to stuff blood sausage?”

The sound of gulping grew louder at once.

The few on the wall could not take it anymore and scrambled down three steps at a time to snatch meat.

The meat had just finished boiling. Ribs and tender cuts were clearly headed to the officers’ tents; what remained depended on how well you got along with the cooks.

Sure enough, no one noticed their absence.

As the good cuts disappeared from the pot, the three waiting in line grew anxious.

Finally, it was their turn. “Blood sausage, blood sausage! We want blood sausage!”

“What blood sausage? I want pig’s trotters!”

The cook handing out meat wore a thin, mocking smile. He gave them sausage slices from near the knotted ends, and the fellow dreaming of trotters got a chunk of spine, a part that was eight parts bone, two parts meat.

“Hey, that’s barely any meat.”

The cook glared. “Be glad you got anything. Scram and don’t block the line!”

They left dejectedly, but once seated and gnawing on the meat, their spirits lifted.

It was delicious. They had not had meat in over half a month.

And this was fresh, slaughtered just that afternoon.

“I heard that our ruler just passed away. The aristocrats and nobles in the capital are supposed to go vegetarian for three days.”

“Really?” the one chewing on the bone mumbled. “Then we’re eating better than them.”

“Are you stupid? You think the elites eat worse than common soldiers?” the third man sneered. “I heard they all have private kitchens. They can enjoy midnight snacks any day, have pig’s trotters whenever they want, and blood sausage too!”

“Alright, eat quickly, we still have to get back on duty,” said the first, devouring his sausage. The portion was small, so he was done in a few bites. He smacked his lips in delight and said, “Don’t let the next shift catch us skipping, or we’ll get five lashes again.”

They polished off their bowls, even licking the rims clean. Just as they were about to grab their weapons and head back up, a thunderous boom sounded behind them.

Everyone heard it. They turned and froze.

On the beacon tower, flames suddenly roared sky-high!

And not just one, four beacons were lit at once. That was the level reserved for a massive enemy invasion.

“Enemy attack! Enemy attack!” someone screamed at the top of his lungs. The camp erupted into chaos. The sounds of whistles, gongs, and clamor filled the air.

Many soldiers were still holding bowls. Their first instinct was not to drop them and grab weapons, but to shovel in a few more bites.

Such fragrant wild boar, it would be a waste not to eat more!

What kind of cursed enemy chooses to attack right when everyone’s eating?

The garrison commander of Dragon Throat Pass abandoned his bowl and rushed out. “Sentries, report!”

The sentries had not raised an alarm, so why is the beacon tower lit?

Countless eyes snapped to the wall.

But when they looked, they only saw it empty, not a single figure to be seen.

The three sentries had not climbed back up yet.

“What’s going on up there?!” The garrison commander was startled, thinking the sentries had all been taken out. That would mean a terrifyingly strong enemy.

He tensed at once. “Everyone, prepare for battle! Send more men up there, now!”

Dragon Throat Pass was the State of West Ji’s first western checkpoint, facing Panlong City directly. Since West Ji was a relatively new state carved out of West Luo, its relations with Panlong City were far from friendly.

The reputation of the Panlong forces weighed heavily on the garrison here, even though they had never actually attacked.

The commander instantly linked the ruler’s recent death with this sudden alarm.

Are the enemy taking advantage of the chaos?

At that moment, several men dragged the three sentries forward. “They’re not dead! They just slipped down to eat meat!”

Bathed in the firelight from the beacon, the three trembled uncontrollably.

The garrison commander was furious.

A soldier who climbed the wall scanned the mountains for a long while before shouting down, “No signs of enemy activity. It’s a false alarm!”

A false alarm?

The commander was doubtful.

Sentries making mistakes is one thing, but how could the beacon tower ignite by accident?

Who would throw fire into it?

He could only shout, “Put out the beacons! Extinguish them!”

The soldiers scrambled to do so.

The problem was that the beacon tower had been specially designed, and even the fuel was custom-made. Once lit, it erupted into a fierce blaze that was extremely hard to extinguish.

That design was meant to prevent enemies from quickly putting out the signal and cutting off communication.

The garrison commander had no choice but to summon spellcasters to halt the mountain winds, then order soldiers to shovel sacks of sand from behind the pass and dump them onto the beacon. With all four beacons burning, the flames were especially intense. After thirteen or fourteen trips, the fire finally died down.

During this, a sentry pointed east. “The beacon tower at Dragon Spine Pass is lit too.”

Linked beacons meant that once the beacons at Dragon Throat Pass ignited, every beacon to the east would light in sequence.

Four beacons here meant four all the way down the line, no margin for error.

Beyond Dragon Spine Pass lay mostly plains; a few more beacons and the signal would reach the capital.

The garrison commander’s heart sank. He had no choice but to send riders racing to the capital to report that it was a false alarm.

But how could galloping horses outrun beacon fire? Especially on mountain roads.

Barely half an hour later, news of a massive western invasion reached the West Ji royal palace. The crown prince, Huyan Zhao, still not yet enthroned, was jolted awake and hurriedly ordered the entire army to prepare for battle.

An aide said hesitantly, “No cannon fire was heard.”

By regulation, one beacon meant one cannon shot—four beacons, four cannon shots. After lighting the beacon, the pass was supposed to fire cannons as confirmation, to prevent mistaken alarms.

But the beacon tower had not been used in years. No one in the palace knew what was happening at Dragon Throat Pass. The royal court still prepared through the night and dispatched scouts westward to investigate.

It was not until the afternoon that news finally arrived from Dragon Throat Pass. The news stated it was a false alarm, that the cause of the beacons being lit was unknown, and that they were currently carrying out an investigation.

Huyan Zhao was livid.

Standing vigil for his father during the day was exhausting enough; now he had been jolted awake at night and kept on edge until dawn!

He immediately issued an order:

Investigate thoroughly!

Punish severely!

Beacon delays and false alarms carried extremely harsh penalties.

In the end, Dragon Throat Pass found no cause. The three unlucky sentries were made scapegoats and executed.

The crown prince also wanted to behead the commander of the pass, but officials pleaded for leniency. The sentence was reduced to thirty lashes and a demotion by one rank.

Those thirty strokes were no joke. Though the punishment was carried out at Dragon Throat Pass, the crown prince specifically sent palace envoys to supervise. The soldiers administering the beating dared not go easy.

After thirty lashes, the commander felt as though half his soul had been beaten out of him. He could only lie in bed and recover.