The sturdy man's roar, like a giant bear's bellow, shattered the messenger's last psychological defense. His legs went soft, and he was about to collapse to the ground, but fortunately, Lauchlan supported him.
Before he could answer, the situation before them had been completely seen through by the sturdy man on the battlements.
He wasted no more words, directly drawing the longbow in his hand. The bowstring hummed.
A feathered arrow tore through the night sky, carrying a whistle, heading straight for the messenger's head. Lauchlan, remembering Lord Solomon's words that the messenger was still useful, hurriedly used his own arm to block. The sharp arrow pierced Lauchlan's right arm.
Lauchlan groaned. The severe pain sobered him instantly. He didn't look at his hand but roared with all his might: "Raise shields!!! Retreat!!!!"
In an instant, arrows rained down from the cliff wall. Arrows shot continuously from the front, making dense sounds of breaking wind.
The soldiers holding shields reacted quickly, immediately stepping forward to form a tight shield formation, protecting the brothers without shields in the middle. They used shields to protect their heads and fronts, braving the arrow rain and rocks rolling down from above, retreating with difficulty from that narrow mountain path.
The clinking impact sounds were incessant. Blocked arrows splashed everywhere. Even so, several soldiers were hit in the ankles unprotected by shields, letting out painful roars, dragged by companions, retreating step by step to a safe position.
Lauchlan retreated in a sorry state. His face was livid, right arm wrapped hastily with cloth strips, dark red blood already soaking through three layers.
He spoke to Solomon, suppressing anger and frustration in his voice: "Lord Solomon!! That road is too narrow!!! We can't spread out our formation at all!!!"
"If we could rush in!! Killing them would be like slaughtering pigs!!!"
"And that sturdy man!!! He shoots too accurately!!! Specifically aiming for our ankles not protected by shields!!"
"Let me take the brothers to charge again!!!"
Solomon didn't look at him. His gaze remained fixed on the pitch-black cliff wall in the distance, which was silent now, as if that deadly arrow rain just now was an illusion.
There was no anger on his face; instead, it revealed a strong interest. He was very impressed by that sturdy man. Good archery, and his physique was almost two meters, perhaps comparable to Ser Gregor Clegane (The Mountain).
Solomon now understood why the Imperial Uncle (Liu Bei) and Lord Cao (Cao Cao) liked sturdy men more than beauties. He also liked sturdy men now.
He turned his head, his gaze falling on the messenger huddled in the corner, trembling into a ball from fear of being exposed and subjected to Solomon's terrifying torture.
"Come here." Solomon's voice was calm.
The messenger crawled over to him, scared out of his wits, teeth chattering incessantly.
Solomon squatted down, looking him in the eye, showing no emotion. He spoke slowly, every word extremely clear: "That person on the wall who shoots very accurately with a bow."
"Who is he?"
The messenger didn't dare look up, trembling with fear. Hearing Solomon ask him a question, it was like grasping the last straw. He began to answer incoherently: "Lord Solomon! I know who he is! I know who he is!!"
The messenger's voice became sharp due to fear, but he would never let go of a chance to live. Once a tough guy kneels to beg for his life for the first time, there will be countless times:
"His nickname is 'The Blacksmith'! His name is Bolin!"
"He... is a Valeman. He used to be a blacksmith! His family... it is said... was killed by a Lord..."
The messenger looked up at Solomon. Solomon signaled him to continue. The messenger finally grew a bit bolder, pouring out everything he knew like beans from a bamboo tube.
"I heard it was a Lord in the Vale, don't know which one, got drunk, rode into his small house... he... he raped and killed his wife, and also killed his children who were protecting their mother..."
"He spent all his family fortune to buy a suit of armor and a longbow. Because he couldn't get close, he could only practice archery hard. When that Lord went out hunting, he shot the Lord, but only wounded him. He rushed up to fight, but the opponent had too many guards. He failed, was hunted down, and could only flee for his life."
"He became a bandit from then on, but he set a rule: never touch commoners, never rob merchants. He claims his targets are only nobles and their lackeys!"
Solomon finally spoke. People with such convictions are hard to deal with: "How many people are in his team?"
The messenger panted heavily, carefully observing Solomon's expression. Seeing Solomon's face still devoid of any expression, he continued:
"In his team, there are less than ten people, all brothers whose families were ruined by nobles. That group is mad dogs, unafraid of death."
"The main forty-plus people in the camp belong to the other two teams. Their bosses don't like Blacksmith Bolin."
Solomon stroked his chin: "Since he doesn't like nobles, why cooperate with nobles?"
The messenger's face instantly lost all color, waving his hands frantically. He thought Solomon suspected him of lying: "No! It's not like that! In his view, all nobles deserve to die. Using nobles to fight nobles, isn't it still fighting nobles? He can also get supplies to prepare for revenge."
Information obtained, Solomon ordered men to drag the messenger out. Inside the tent, an oil lamp burned quietly. Solomon pondered how to capture the sturdy man, fingers tapping gently on the simple sand table on the table.
On the sand table, several stones of different sizes represented the perilous terrain of Offshore Cliff.
Lushen and Lauchlan stood by the sides, chests heaving violently. Since following Lord Solomon, when had they ever suffered such a loss?
"Lord Solomon!!!" Lushen finally couldn't hold back, stopped pacing, and punched his own chest, making thumping muffled sounds. "Lord Solomon!!! Let me take men up!!!"
Solomon looked at him. Lushen's eyes burned with fighting spirit. In previous battles, he proved his courage, but siege warfare was different after all. He only had sixty-odd men. If it were close combat, the bandits would definitely not be their match, but if the opponent held the camp firmly, heroes would have no place to display their martial prowess.
Solomon didn't look at him, turning his gaze to the sand table. He picked up the largest stone representing the bandit camp above, turning it slowly in his fingertips.
Finally, Solomon looked up. He put the stone back in its original place, then looked at Lushen and Lauchlan, speaking slowly: "Remember, sometimes the cheapest victory is the greatest victory."
"Tell me, can a hammer smash open another hammer?"
Lushen was stunned. He didn't understand Lord Solomon's meaning, why ask such a question suddenly. Hammer smashing hammer, hammer can't smash hammer, then use a bigger hammer.
Solomon didn't wait for his answer. He was actually asking himself, not Lauchlan and Lushen. His gaze returned to the sand table.
He muttered softly to himself, as if sorting out his thoughts.
"A blacksmith who only hates nobles... his wife and children died at the hands of nobles... values family..."
Solomon's finger tapped gently on the stone representing the cliff camp, then tapped on several other small stones next to it.
"People with faith, people for profit."
The corner of his mouth slowly hooked into an arc. His palm swept gently, knocking over all those stones.
70+ chapters are available now and daily updates! @patreon.com/AgentTwilight