At that moment, a Turgesh soldier with his face painted pitch black unknowingly approached David Morris. His hat was pulled low, covering most of his face. In the flickering firelight, no one noticed him; everyone’s attention was focused on the ‘Centipede’ attacking the gate.

“What do you want?” David Morris suddenly noticed him and turned to ask.

The newcomer opened his mouth but couldn’t utter a word, his face twisted in anger.

“Damn it, I forgot!”

He shouted, drew his gleaming saber, and slashed down with lightning speed. But David Morris was already on guard; he dodged quickly, barely avoiding a fatal blow. Still, he was a step too slow—the sharp blade struck his left arm. With a crack, David Morris’s arm was severed. He let out a miserable scream and fled on horseback.

Andrew Thompson turned his horse and fled in another direction. After running a dozen steps, he couldn’t help but look back, drew his bow, and shot an arrow that struck David Morris squarely in the back. David Morris swayed and fell from his horse to the ground.

The sudden turn of events stunned everyone. For a moment, the Turgesh were thrown into chaos. Some rushed to rescue their leader, while dozens roared and chased after the bold assassin.

Andrew Thompson spurred his horse into a wild gallop. He had already torn off his cumbersome robe and thrown away his hat, revealing the gleaming armor of the Tang army.

As he fled, he twisted around and shot arrows—each faster than the last, arrows whistling like a fierce storm. With every shot, a pursuer screamed and fell from his horse. The Turgesh also fired a volley of arrows, which clanged harmlessly off his armor, unable to pierce the bright steel.

“Damn, this armor is really something!”

Andrew Thompson’s confidence soared. He had long heard that even Tang bows couldn’t penetrate this armor from fifty paces away—the strongest bows in the world, let alone the inferior ones of the Turgesh.

Galloping across the Gobi, Andrew Thompson’s familiarity with the terrain gave him wings. He drew his bow like a full moon, arrows flying like meteors. Each arrow that struck the enemy was like a grim smile from the god of death. In a chase of over ten miles, he had already killed more than twenty men, each with a single arrow. Gradually, the Turgesh began to hesitate, their pursuit slowing, terrified by Andrew Thompson’s godlike archery.

Andrew Thompson charged up a high ridge. Beneath a golden full moon, his heart surged with the thrill of killing. He suddenly drew his bow, the cold arrowhead aimed at the pursuing Turgesh, his eyes narrowing.

From his commanding height, the tall and imposing Andrew Thompson looked like a god. With a twang of the bowstring, a long arrow howled through the air, piercing the skull of the leading cavalryman, who screamed and fell from his horse.

The last dozen Turgesh cavalry were scared out of their wits, turning tail and fleeing. Andrew Thompson threw his head back and laughed, the taste of killing so exhilarating and unrestrained.

“Come and meet your end!”

Andrew Thompson spurred his horse in pursuit. On the vast, boundless Gobi, Andrew Thompson was like a fierce tiger of the Tianshan Mountains, chasing a pack of terrified Western wolves. His arrows fell like pear blossoms, soaking the Turgesh in blood. When he finally shot down the last man, he couldn’t help but let out a long howl to the sky.

“If only the flying general were still at Dragon City, no barbarian horse would cross Yin Mountain!”

Chapter 9: Deputy Commander of Anxi

Ten days later, a cavalry unit of five hundred thundered across the Gobi. They charged up a high ridge and stopped to look into the distance. Leading them was a Tang general of about thirty-five or thirty-six. He gazed far ahead, pointed his riding whip at the snow-capped Ling Mountains, and said to those beside him, “One day, I will lead a great army over the Ling Mountains, crush the Turgesh stronghold, and rebuild the Suiye garrison of our Great Tang.”

He spurred his horse and charged down the slope, the Tang soldiers following close behind. In moments, they disappeared into the depths of the Gobi.

An hour later, the cavalry arrived at the Sulou beacon fortress. The wounded William Sutton hurried out with his men to greet them.

“Forgive me, Commander, for not welcoming you from afar—I did not know you were coming!”

The Tang general glanced over the soldiers. “You have all performed meritoriously in battle. Each of you will be rewarded with twenty strings of cash, ten acres of land, and a merit recorded. Garrison chief William Sutton is promoted to commander of Dashicheng.”

William Sutton hesitated, then stepped forward and kowtowed in thanks. “Thank you for your grace, Commander. I do not wish for promotion—only to join the Mo Dao Army.”

“Very well! I grant your wish. From now on, you are a deputy general of the Mo Dao Army.”

“Thank you, Commander!”

William Sutton was overjoyed. Joining the Mo Dao Army had been his dream for years. Benjamin Thompson, who had joined the army with him, had become famous thanks to the Mo Dao, while he remained an obscure garrison chief.

The Tang general then looked over the Tang soldiers in the fortress one by one, his gaze finally settling on the tall and imposing Andrew Thompson. With a great bow slung across his back, he stood out among the soldiers. The general asked, “Are you the squad leader who shot and killed forty Turgesh?”

Andrew Thompson stepped forward from the ranks, bowed, and said, “This humble officer Andrew Thompson, reporting to the general.”

The general looked him over and asked, “I’ve heard your name. Where are you from?”

“Reporting to the general, I am from Luoyang, the Eastern Capital.”

“From the Eastern Capital!” The Tang general nodded. “Let me see your bow and arrows. What kind of bow could kill forty Turgesh?”