Fueled by towering hatred and murderous intent toward the Zhejiang army, Xu Hai and his horde of pirates charged forward relentlessly, katanas flashing.
Sure enough, they spotted a group of Zhejiang soldiers ahead, leading horses—just twenty meters away.
Oddly, though, the Zhejiang troops stood calmly, watching them with an almost leisurely air—too composed for comfort.
“Hmph, no running now, huh? Time to die! Only dead Zhejiang soldiers are good Zhejiang soldiers!”
“Heh, you know you can’t escape—waiting for death! Too late—today, I’ll leave you without even a corpse!”
“Yoshi, yoshi! No running—good! Not one Ming dog gets away—all dead, dead, dead! Kill them all!”
“You killed my brother at Suzhou’s walls, then my younger brother in the river—now you’ll pay in blood!”
Seeing the Zhejiang troops standing still, the pirates grinned savagely, exhilaration twisting their faces as they rushed forward with katanas raised. They could practically see the next moment: the Zhejiang soldiers cut down like melons, sprawled lifeless on the ground.
Outmatched?
Impossible!
The Zhejiang force was less than a thousand strong, while they numbered nearly ten thousand. Ten to one—they couldn’t lose!
Confidence surging, the pirates howled and charged, determined to slaughter every Zhejiang soldier in sight!
But while the rank-and-file pirates brimmed with certainty, Xu Hai felt the opposite. Far from confident, he was struck as if by lightning.
Damn it!
Something’s terribly wrong!
Seeing the Zhejiang troops standing there, unruffled, watching them calmly—some even smiling—sent a chill racing up Xu Hai’s spine. His hair stood on end, cold sweat pouring down!
For the Zhejiang army to be this composed with our massive force bearing down—it’s unnatural!
When things defy logic, there’s always a catch.
The thought of that cunning little thief Zhu Ping’an flooded his mind, and a gut-wrenching premonition hit him hard.
That Zhu Ping’an must have a trick up his sleeve!
He’d assumed Zhu was using the old adage “never enter a forest” to scare them off, betting that after the river ambush, they’d hesitate to pursue into the woods—giving the Zhejiang troops time to slip away.
But no—this sly little thief had anticipated they’d see through that! He’d deliberately played on their psychology, luring them into the forest.
Why lure us in? It’s not like he misses us—obviously, this scheming brat’s up to no good!
“Retreat!”
“Retreat!”
“Retreat!”
The realization hit, and Xu Hai didn’t care about pride or reputation anymore. He shouted the order to pull back instantly.
But even throwing dignity aside, even contradicting himself—urging his men to charge one second and retreat the next—his frenzied pirates couldn’t stop on a dime.
Mid-charge, the pirates froze for a split second at Xu Hai’s urgent cries of “Retreat!” What’s wrong with the boss? Why flip-flop now? The Zhejiang troops are so few—why fear them? Before they could process it, they saw the Zhejiang soldiers grinning at them, pulling out fire starters from their coats and tossing them to the ground.
“No!”
Watching the fire starters spin downward, Xu Hai understood in a flash what the Zhejiang army intended by luring them into the forest. His face contorted as he bellowed, spinning around to flee.
It unfolded like slow motion: fire starters twirling down, Xu Hai’s grimace as he turned…
“You turtle bastards, congrats on reaching the grand finale gift site! Today’s ultimate prize is all yours!”
“Gift time, turtle sons! Hope you like this final present—though if you don’t, no worries, you can trade it with the King of Hell! Hahaha, congrats—you get to die now!”
“Hahahaha, love watching you walk into the trap! No rush, no shoving—everyone gets one! Here come the gifts—catch!”
After tossing the fire starters, the Zhejiang soldiers erupted in unrestrained laughter, mocking the charging pirates.
Gifts?!
Again?!
The final gift?! The grand finale?!
Damn it!
Hearing the Zhejiang troops shout about gifts again, the pirates shuddered uncontrollably. Memories of today’s “gift-dominated” torment flooded back—cold sweat streamed, legs weakened.
They finally grasped why Xu Hai had screamed “Retreat” with such desperation.
But it was too late.
Xu Hai’s “No!” hadn’t even faded when the fire starters hit the ground.
The Zhejiang troops’ fire starters ignited the gunpowder dust scattered below with a “puff”—sparks flared, and the powder blazed to life. The flames leapt to the straw, kerosene, and sulfur layered atop it. In a blink, a roaring inferno erupted.
In an instant, a fire zone a hundred meters wide and dozens deep sprang up before the pirates, forming an impassable wall of flame, separating them from the Zhejiang army.
The frontrunners, charging full tilt, couldn’t stop—plowing straight into the firestorm. They became living torches, shrieking in agony, flailing desperately to no avail before collapsing, consumed.
The pirates behind had no time to rejoice—the blaze swept outward with lightning speed, engulfing them too.
The Zhejiang army had rigged the entire forest, laying hidden networks of kerosene and gunpowder trails crisscrossing every direction.
Once ignited, these trails blazed to life in seconds, setting every corner of the forest ablaze.
The temporary camp was even more tampered with.
Beyond the cotton armor meant to lure the pirates, everything else was fuel—dry straw shelters, gunpowder, kerosene, sulfur.
The fire starters hit, and in the first instant, they sparked the fire wall. In the second, they lit the sprawling web of ignition trails. In the third, those trails torched the abandoned camp and every direction of the forest. In the fourth, the surrounding straw, sulfur, and kerosene roared to life—and then the fire raged beyond control.
Soon, the whole forest was a sea of flames, thick smoke billowing, the inferno towering. Even the trees caught fire, and the blaze swiftly encircled every pirate trapped within.
Even Xu Hai, who’d turned to flee the moment he sensed danger, couldn’t escape the fire’s embrace—he’d ventured too deep into the forest.
