Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters-Chapter 761 - 58 Part-Time Job_2
Chapter 761: Chapter 58 Part-Time Job_2 Chapter 761: Chapter 58 Part-Time Job_2 “What does Kota want?”
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“Slaves! Gold and silver! More wealth!”
“And after obtaining all these?” The old slave, Bald Tail, raised his head, looking into the eyes of the people of the Ganquan Tribe.
Feeling uneasy under the stare, the man from the Ganquan Tribe scolded, “You old slave! What are you suggesting?”
“Then let’s burn down the village,” suggested Bald Tail, bowing his head. “Divide our forces into two, hide a small group, and have the majority set the fire and pretend to retreat after the blaze. We wait for the two-legged ones to come back to put out the fire before following them. Just like hunting, following their path will lead us to where the prey hides.”
Upon hearing this, Blue Horse and Stone Arrow’s eyes shone with excitement.
After some thought, the man from the Ganquan Tribe decided to go with Bald Tail’s plan.
...
A little over a hundred tribesmen were divided into two wings.
The left wing, led by more than seventy riders including Blue Horse and Stone Arrow, took most of the horses and plunder. After setting the fire, they left with grand presence.
The right wing, personally led by thirty riders from the Ganquan Tribe, hid in a depression near the village, leaving only a few outposts on the slopes to blow the horn as a signal.
The village of the Paratu People was mostly made of wood and straw, and the fire spread quickly once it started. In no time, the whole village was engulfed in flames.
Black smoke shot up straight into the sky, visible from miles away.
Like a hunter who had laid a trap, the man from the Ganquan Tribe waited patiently.
Waiting…
Waited…
He waited until the farmhouse was burned to the ground, the fire shrank to embers and then died out, and still there was no sound from the outposts’ horns.
The man from the Ganquan Tribe scarcely held his composure, but Blue Horse and Stone Arrow could not. They sent a rider to inquire about the situation, only to be harshly scolded by him.
After venting his anger on the messenger, the man from the Ganquan Tribe found Bald Tail: “It was your idea, you tell me, what do we do now?”
Bald Tail shook his head: “The leader of the two-legged ones from this village is very tenacious.”
“Tenacious?” The man from the Ganquan Tribe ground his teeth, saying fiercely, “Then burn the forests! I refuse to believe we can’t smoke him out!”
Bald Tail twirled his prayer beads: “Setting fire to the woods is one way to go.”
“Burn!”
“I’ll go prepare the fire-starter now.”
But the man from the Ganquan Tribe wavered slightly: “Are you sure this will drive the two-legged ones out?”
“Not certain. This is Kota’s method,” Bald Tail said, straining to open his rheumy eyes and asked, “Does Kota want living slaves or dead ones?”
The man from the Ganquan Tribe’s eyes widened: “What do you mean?”
“Fire is the might of the heavenly gods, beyond mortal control. By setting the forest ablaze, maybe before the two-legged ones can run out, they’ll be burned to death.”
“So what should we do?”
Bald Tail spoke calmly: “There are other villages here. If this one can endure, the next one may not be able to. Kota could burn through the villages, one by one.”
The man from the Ganquan Tribe thought it over but still couldn’t decide.
“Starting a wildfire is not out of the question,” Bald Tail said, looking at the toe of the man’s boot, “but has Kota considered that the young of birds and beasts will also be burnt to death? For whatever reason, one who recklessly starts a wildfire will have their spirit wander the wilderness for a hundred years before the spirits will accept them again.”
The man from the Ganquan Tribe wasn’t content: “So I come to this village and obtain nothing?”
“Hasn’t Kota already taken a lot of things?”
“What plunder? Those are mere trinkets!” The man from the Ganquan Tribe flew into a rage.
Bald Tail lowered his head: “Then please, Kota, continue to wait here. It’s cold and the ground is frozen—these two-legged ones are not as hardy as the children of the tribes, they will eventually start fires to warm themselves and cook food. Kota can set up outposts on high grounds and head where the cooking smoke rises.”
“What if it still doesn’t work?”
“Then we’ll burn the next village,” Bald Tail replied matter-of-factly. “Kota is a hunter, and as long as a hunter is patient, the opportunity will come.”
And so the man from the Ganquan Tribe continued to wait, from noon until dusk.
The men of the Ganquan Tribe, initially high-spirited because of the raid, gradually became yawning ceaselessly. The man himself was no less worn out.
Just as he was arranging for the men to rest in shifts, an outpost came tumbling and scrambling down from the hill: “Kota! Smoke! There’s smoke!”
Suddenly invigorated, the man from the Ganquan Tribe rushed up the hillside.
Beneath the dying sunlight—though faint, plumes of purplish smoke could be seen rising from the treetops in the distance.
He observed for quite some time until he was certain it was smoke from a fire rather than the evening mist.
Leaving a few men to mark and direct to the site, the right wing of the Ganquan Tribe burst out of the hollow and galloped towards the source of the smoke.
Just as they set foot on the charred soil of the village, bursts of horn signals came from nearby.
An outpost charged towards them: “Kota, there are people sneaking around trying to get close to the village!”
“Where?”
“There!” the outpost said, pointing to the edge between the farmland and the forest.
With vicious laughter, the man from the Ganquan Tribe said to Bald Tail, “The two-legged people have tenacious willpower? They couldn’t resist coming out!”
Bald Tail made a gesture of salutation over his chest, bowing his head deeply.
The man from the Ganquan Tribe checked the bearings: the smoke was to the northwest, the figures to the southwest; the smoke was farther, the figures closer.
“Go for the closest first,” Bald Tail suggested. “The far one is not urgent.”
“Fine, we’ll go for the closest. Kill the men! Keep the women!” the man from the Ganquan Tribe sneered as he turned his horse around, “I’ll reward each of you with a female slave!”
The thirty-plus riders changed direction, charging towards the southwest. Their horses trampled the wheat field, uprooting some of the newly sprouted wheat.
At the forest edge, a woman carrying a bucket in each hand was walking along the furrows towards the village.
The sound of horse hooves rang out, the Herdman riders came thundering in, and the woman, in fright, dropped her buckets and ran towards the forest.
