Chapter Ninety-Four: Decapitation

The War God from Humble Origins Longing for you, my thoughts drift like clouds. 2778 words 2026-04-11 01:40:39

Page (1/3)

"Chief Captain He, don't push things too far!" Qi Jun glared at him and retreated a few steps, his raised fist slowly lowering in helpless frustration.

The thought of rushing forward to seize He Wenxing flashed through his mind, but he shook his head and abandoned the idea, forcing himself to calm down. He didn't dare gamble the dozen-odd lives in the courtyard against this cur. Such a trade was too costly—the price would be driving Feng Qinian mad.

"He, you bastard! If you've got the guts, kill me now! I'll strangle you in your dreams even from the grave!" Deng Fang's voice rang out from the courtyard. Qi Jun's heart jolted at the sound, and the murderous intent in his eyes as he looked at He Wenxing deepened.

"Name your terms. What will it take to let them go?" Qi Jun panted like a crazed beast, his bloodshot eyes boring into He Wenxing as if they could flay him into shreds.

He Wenxing let out a long peal of triumphant laughter, then reached down and helped Feng Qinian, who had been sitting on the ground, back into the chair.

"I, He Wenxing, am a man who values talent and knows gratitude. Otherwise, why would I have invited Prefect Feng here to sample fine wine?" Ignoring the murderous hatred in Feng Qinian's eyes, He Wenxing waved his hand to dismiss the county soldiers from the room, then turned to Qi Jun and said, "I know you're a man of talent, and that you can craft useful things."

"So what do you want me to do for you?" Qi Jun caught the implication, guessing that He Wenxing had set his sights on his skill in making heavy crossbows.

That day during the defense of Panlong Ridge, the situation had erupted so suddenly that he'd had no choice but to hastily build a simpler heavy crossbow to ease the pressure on the defenders and check the bandits' assault.

Many county soldiers and bandits alike had witnessed the power of those heavy crossbows, so it was only to be expected that word of the weapon would reach He Wenxing's ears.

As for the catapult, however, only a handful of people besides himself—like Liu Fuyuan—even knew it existed.

He hadn't built a catapult that day to deal with the bandits for two reasons: first, a catapult was far more laborious to construct than a heavy crossbow; and second, the terrain had been a narrow mountain pass where the bandits attacked almost in single file. Compared to a catapult's wide area of devastation, the heavy crossbow's "skewering candied hawthorns" style of attack and its deterrent effect were clearly far more effective in that setting.

"It's not what I want you to do for me—it's what you can do for the Qiang King." He Wenxing drank a cup of wine and said slowly.

He was secretly calculating: since he already had these hostages in his grip, why not seize the opportunity to force Qi Jun into submission and bend him to his will?

That way, he could use the weapons Qi Jun crafted to raise his own value and standing among the Qiang, while also binding Qi Jun and himself firmly together on the great ship of rebellion.

He knew well that as long as he shared a common crisis and common interests with an adversary, any adversary had the chance to become an ally and helper in the same camp.

Qi Jun fell silent, weighing the matter in his mind. He Wenxing's offer was clearly meant to drag him into the water as well—to swell his own rebel forces while seeking greater justification for himself in his own conscience.

Page (2/3)

If that was the case, then despite his aggressive, everything-under-control demeanor, He Wenxing's heart was clearly laced with fear and anxiety.

"Very well, then... I wonder what the Qiang King would have me do?" Qi Jun mused, then feigned submission by clasping his hands behind his back, bowing slightly, and stepping back a pace.

"You're a clever man—quick-witted, too. I've always enjoyed dealing with clever men like you!" A sharp glint flashed in He Wenxing's eyes, and he immediately shifted his demeanor, gazing at Qi Jun with open appreciation.

"Qi Jun! You... you fool! The prefectural commandant holds you in such high esteem—how could you plot alongside this despicable cur!" Feng Qinian stared at Qi Jun in shock, unable to comprehend his sudden change of heart, and rebuked him with a mixture of alarm and bitter disappointment.

"Prefect Feng, as the saying goes: people strive ever upward, while water flows ever downward! How is it I never realized before that Master Qi and I share the same temperament—neither of us willing to stoop! I think this post of yours as County Marshal of Anqiang is..." Certain that he had completely seized control of the situation, He Wenxing said in a voice dripping with smugness as he stood before Feng Qinian and patted his shoulder. But the very next second, his body jolted violently.

"Thwip!" A faint sound—He Wenxing, who had been savoring his victory facing Feng Qinian, suddenly felt a chill at his neck, as though something had pierced into it.

Instinctively, he reached up in pain and touched a miniature crossbow bolt half-buried in his throat.

His face went pale with shock, and the next moment he felt a sharp pain in his throat as blood surged upward. Clutching his neck, he opened his mouth to shout for the county soldiers outside, but no sound came out, and not a single word could pass his lips.

He turned his head toward Qi Jun and saw the tip of a sleeve arrow protruding from the right sleeve of his robe.

This very sleeve arrow was the one Crimson-Eyed Vulture had used to ambush Qi Jun; after the vulture's death, Liu Kui had taken it. Before leaving, Qi Jun had specifically asked him for it as a means of self-defense. Just now, seizing the moment when He Wenxing was distracted, he had loosed the arrow decisively and turned the tide.

He Wenxing's vision of Qi Jun's face and figure grew ever more blurred, his consciousness rapidly dissolving, and his body lost all strength, collapsing uncontrollably to the ground.

It had all happened far too suddenly.

He Wenxing, who had thought the game was already decided, fell dead before Feng Qinian. Feng Qinian, utterly bewildered, stared at him in a daze, his mind going momentarily blank.

Qi Jun glanced at He Wenxing twitching on the ground, spat at him, then walked to the desk and took down the treasured sword Feng Qinian had hung on the wall.

The county soldiers keeping watch outside the room had no idea what was happening inside, only wondering why the constant conversation within had come to such an abrupt halt.

"Chief Captain He?" One soldier, sensing something amiss, ventured a call.

Page (3/3)

A few seconds passed, and still there was no reply from the chief captain—only the faint sound of flesh being separated from bone by a sharp blade.

At that, the soldiers posted at the door realized something was wrong and pushed the door open again, drawing their blades to charge in. But the sight before them froze them dumbstruck on the threshold.

There stood Qi Jun, bloodshot eyes blazing, holding a bloody severed head as he faced them, while the chief captain's headless body lay in the pool of blood at Qi Jun's feet.

Qi Jun fixed his gaze on the soldiers and took a step forward. They raised their sabers, pointing the tips at him, but every one of them was driven back step after step by the single stride he took toward them.

The other soldiers in the courtyard, not understanding what was happening, saw the men before the study retreating and cast puzzled looks toward the door. In the next moment, they saw Qi Jun emerge from the room, the severed head in his hand.

"You... brothers, kill them all—avenge Chief Captain He!" One of the soldiers holding Feng Qinian's wife shouted in fury, raising his blade to slash at her neck.

"Ah!" Lady Feng let out a desperate scream, tears streaming down her face as she shut her eyes.

"Thwip!" Qi Jun raised his hand and loosed an arrow at the soldier. The man shuddered as it struck, the blade falling from his grasp before it could land, clattering with a sharp ring at Lady Feng's feet.

The soldier clutched his chest, blood bubbling from the corners of his mouth, and collapsed behind Lady Feng.

"Nobody move! The rebel He Wenxing has been executed! Anyone who resists will be deemed his accomplice and their entire clan put to death!" Qi Jun hurled the severed head before the soldiers and bellowed in a thunderous voice, instantly cowing the other soldiers who had been poised to strike.

"What do you all think you're doing? Put down your weapons!" Feng Qinian appeared at just the right moment behind Qi Jun, sweeping the soldiers in the courtyard with a cold, stern gaze—an unmistakable reminder of who was still the boss of the county soldiers.

The soldiers wavered. They watched Qi Jun and Feng Qinian with nervous apprehension, yet still hesitated, unable to fully lower their weapons.

Liu Biao, who had been hidden in a corner observing all along, gave it a brief thought, then stepped boldly forward, saluted Qi Jun with cupped fists, and said respectfully, "Reporting to you, sir: the entire first company of prefectural troops has arrived! Please give the order!"

Every county soldier in the courtyard heard Liu Biao's words clearly. They exchanged glances with one another and saw panic written on each other's faces.

"I'll say it one more time—drop your weapons at once! Otherwise, when the prefectural troops enter this compound, no one will be spared!" Qi Jun mentally commended Liu Biao's cooperation and acting, then fixed his glare on the soldiers and barked again in a low, weighty voice.