Strongest Soldier King

Nightfall draped the desolate village in a suppressive silence. The occasional dog bark added a hint of tranquility to the settlement. Inside the village, a small river meandered past houses built along its banks, their layout pleasingly haphazard. Every home lit up with dim, yellow lights that flickered in the breeze. Near a broad section of the river stood a large, enclosed courtyard with its doors tightly shut; more than a dozen fully armed individuals patrolled the entrance with a burly man leading a wolfhound as robust as a calf.

There were armed militants patrolling the courtyard as well, rifles loaded and ready. The whole compound exuded an air of somber lethality, thick and weighted. The main building in the courtyard was ablaze with light, and two sturdy men stood at the door, dressed in camouflage combat suits, wearing bulletproof helmets, and holding M16s, grenades hanging off their bodies as they vigilantly scanned their surroundings.

Inside one of the rooms, a burly man's face was ashen as he stared intently at a map on the table. His eyes flickered with a cold, murderous intent. It was Fox Wolf, the second in command of the Wild Wolf Mercenary Group. Having lost four subordinates in a row, when had the Wild Wolf Mercenary Group ever suffered such a blow? Fox Wolf was holding back an anger that had nowhere to vent, the cold murderous vibe around him was so intense it felt like it could freeze the room, to the point that even the employer Yimati beside him lost his former arrogance.

Yimati glanced at Fox Wolf and said cautiously, "Luckily we captured one person. I wonder, Mr. Fox Wolf, how do you plan to deal with this person? However, I hope you can hand him over to us. We lost more than a hundred brothers to capture this man. God willing, we finally reaped some rewards. I need to take him back to headquarters."

"You can have the man, but not now," Fox Wolf replied coldly, his eyes, sharp as blades, shifted from the map to the outside of the window. The chilling aura about him grew more intense as he spoke deliberately, "Do you think they will let this go easily? I'm sure they will come to rescue him, and it will be tonight."

"Hmm? What do you intend to do?" Yimati wasn't a fool and knew that Fox Wolf spoke the truth, so he asked.

"Spread your men out, lay ambushes at all the routes into the village. Even if they spot the enemy, they mustn't engage. Let the enemy come inside. Once there is gunfire here, your men should close in. Then, you'll be able to take two or even more men back to headquarters," Fox Wolf said with deadly coldness.

"Good," Yimati agreed decisively after pondering for a moment.

"Excellent. As for the captive, my people will guard him; there won't be any problems. And here, I will personally take charge, waiting for the enemy to fall into the trap. Are you interested in joining me?" Fox Wolf said coldly, his fury at the loss of his four brothers churning within him like a volcano on the verge of eruption, making his gaze even colder.

"Good. To watch such a show on a night when the moon is dark and the wind high, that is, indeed, one of life's fine pleasures. I'll go make the arrangements and come back immediately. Shall we heat up a pot of wine and roast a sheep too?" Yimati asked, already agreeing.

"That would be nice," Fox Wolf responded coolly. Once Yimati had left, he turned to the statue-like guards beside him, his expression chilling as he commanded in a bone-cold tone, "Pass on the order. Everyone get into position for an ambush, and wait for the prey to come. Keep a close eye on the bait. If necessary, do not hesitate to kill. Our disgrace can only be washed clean with the blood of our enemies."

"Yes," the two men responded coldly, then turned and departed.

"Bastard, come on, I can already smell you," Fox Wolf said coldly, looking out the window, not realizing that he had snapped the pencil he had been using to draw.

┅┅

In the darkness of night, outside the village, Luo Zheng lay flat on a branch of a dense tree, observing the village. The quiet facade of the village was unsettling. Luo Zheng's expression grew tense; he didn't dare make any rash moves. The fact that so many armed men had entered the village and the villagers acted as if everything were normal—what did that imply? The complete absence of militants—what did that suggest? Furthermore, no one patrolling the entrance or exterior of the village—what could that mean?

Luo Zheng was no fool; he sensed that the village was a huge trap, where one mistake could mean doom. After watching for over ten minutes with no results and seeing the lights in the surrounding houses being extinguished one by one, Luo Zheng pressed his lips together sharp as a knife's edge, eyes locked, shining with profound light. After pondering for a while, he silently slid down the tree and cautiously made his way toward the middle of the village.

Under the cover of night, Luo Zheng moved swiftly forward, hidden in shadows. He dashed across a five-meter-wide clearing and vanished into a corner of a wall, waiting for a moment with no discoveries. Yet his heart inexplicably began to feel uneasy. This oppressive sensation was awful; Luo Zheng sensed danger but couldn't pinpoint where it lurked or when it would erupt. The thought of the farmer made him grit his teeth and continue to advance.

Luo Zheng crept along the base of the wall for a short distance until he came to a narrow alley. On both sides of the alley, houses stood tightly packed. The road was indistinct in the murky gloom, and the space five meters ahead of the alley was pitch-dark as if it led to a world of darkness, faintly pulsing with the dangerous scent of death. Luo Zheng became vigilant, his hunter's intuition alerting him that something was amiss. In such a complex environment, if there were an ambush, he would have nowhere to hide.

In the face of danger, the best course of action would be to retreat. Luo Zheng knew he had no choice; he looked up at the rooftops and then at the alley before him, taking a risk. He suddenly exerted force on his legs, charging forward like a hunting cheetah, and leaped. His toes hit a window ledge, harnessing momentum to soar over three meters high and with a swift grab, he clutched a rooftop securely. Pulling himself up, he twisted his body and flipped onto the roof.

Once on the roof, Luo Zheng lay motionless, camouflaged like a civet, his stark black and white eyes narrowing to slits to prevent being seen in the dark. His grey-brown camouflage suit further obscured his form, making it hard to detect his presence until one was nearly upon him.

After waiting a while, Luo Zheng attentively sorted through the sound of the wind, not missing any detail. He took several deep breaths, discerning the scent in the air. The clear presence of danger put him even more on guard. He looked ahead, and the silent village remained undisturbed. For some reason, Luo Zheng felt as if there was a primordial fierce beast ahead, silently watching him, a sensation that took one's breath away.

Knowing the danger and still stepping into it is foolish, but to rescue the farmer, Luo Zheng knew he had no other option. Taking a deep breath, he carefully made his way forward along the rooftops. The roofs were flat, made out of a hard mixture of mud, dry grass, and other materials, very solid and highly waterproof.

The space between the houses was about one meter, a distance trivial for Luo Zheng, as he easily leaped across. Moving swiftly over four rooftops, Luo Zheng hid in a dark corner to observe. He didn't see anyone; the villagers had vanished. Luo Zheng listened closely, hearing the faint sound of conversation coming from the room below, but the language barrier prevented him from understanding.