The sound of the night watchman's clapper marking the third watch pierced the veil of night.
The city, which had retained a hint of life during the day, was now utterly silent.
Every door and window was shut tight, with only the footsteps of armored night patrols occasionally breaking the tranquility.
In the western camp, fifty night scouts had already assembled in front of the barracks of Tie Lanshan's personal guard.
They were all clad in black armor over black clothes, their faces masked with black scarves, revealing only pairs of eyes that glinted coldly in the dark.
Their warhorses were gagged with wooden bits, their hooves wrapped in thick cotton cloth. The fifty riders and their mounts stood in place without making a single sound, like fifty silent statues.
Xu Zhan, wearing the same attire, walked past the front of the ranks. He did not waste a single word, simply inspecting the oilcloth-wrapped objects on the back of each horse one by one.
Beneath the oilcloth were twenty heavy, pitch-black "iron watermelons."
He stopped in front of a young soldier, tapping his finger lightly on the oilcloth bundle. His voice was kept extremely low, yet it clearly reached the ears of every soldier.
"Remember this well. This object is called an 'iron watermelon,' and it contains a 'Yama's lock'! When burying it, your hands must be steady and your minds calm. You must never touch the pressure plate on top."
His gaze swept over the men with unquestionable severity.
"Furthermore, do not let curiosity lead you to try and dismantle it. Jenny Huang said that if anyone gets any foolish ideas, they will meet Yama before the Helian people even arrive. Is that understood?"
"Understood!" the fifty men replied in a low, unison shout.
A recently enlisted recruit, looking at the unremarkable black lump on the horse's back, finally couldn't hold back. He leaned close to the ear of a veteran beside him and asked in a whisper, "Sergeant, is this iron lump... really that powerful?"
The veteran's face was obscured by his black scarf, but his eyes were filled with awe. He replied in an equally low voice, "Didn't you hear that noise in the backyard yesterday? This thing made it."
"Don't ask too many questions, and don't overthink it. We do exactly as the Centurion orders. Remember, this thing can kill the enemy, but it can also take our own lives."
Hearing this, the recruit shrank his neck. When he looked at the iron lump again, his eyes were full of dread.
Having finished his inspection, Xu Zhan mounted his horse without making a sound.
With a wave of his hand, the entire unit began to move.
They did not take the camp's main gate, but filed out from a secluded corner, sticking close to the shadows of the ward walls as they navigated the maze-like alleys.
Xu Zhan rode at the very front of the formation, the night breeze rustling the loose hair on his forehead.
In his mind, the marching route and mine-laying formation he had mapped out yesterday with his little sister and Jenny Huang flashed over and over again.
The faces of the conscripted laborers brutally murdered by the Helian outriders, their eyes wide open in death, seemed to hover right before him.
A boiling anger burned in his chest. He would use these twenty "iron watermelons" to exact the first toll of blood debt for his innocently slaughtered compatriots.
The unit arrived silently at a remote section beneath the western city wall.
There was no towering gatehouse here, only an inconspicuous watchtower marking a hidden door used for dumping refuse in peacetime.
Up in the watchtower, an acquainted captain had been waiting for a long time.
Seeing Xu Zhan's figure, he said nothing and merely made a hand signal. Immediately, several guards worked together to turn the winch. With a teeth-setting screech of friction, the heavy iron portcullis slowly rose to reveal a gap half the height of a man.
Xu Zhan leaned low and squeezed his horse's flanks with his legs. His mount took the lead, slipping out under the gap in the gate.
The fifty night scouts followed closely behind, like a stream of black water silently gliding into the vast, barren plains outside the city.
Once the last rider had passed, the iron portcullis crashed down, completely sealing the city off from the outside.
As soon as they entered the wasteland, Xu Zhan spurred his horse on. The fifty riders no longer held back their speed, transforming into phantoms in the night as they galloped toward Crow Spring, thirty miles away.
The wind howled in their ears as hooves pounded against the soft sand.
They bypassed all areas where Helian scouts might be lurking, deliberately choosing to traverse rugged sand dunes and ravines.
Half an hour later, the unit arrived at the designated location.
This was an open stretch of sand dunes about five miles northeast of Crow Spring. The terrain was flat, with almost no cover.
According to the habits of the Helian outriders, when returning to camp at night, they preferred to pass through this kind of terrain where they could gallop freely.
"Dismount!" Xu Zhan barked softly, being the first to swing down from his saddle.
He took several pre-prepared thin wooden boards from his horse and laid them on the sand. He walked forward by stepping on the boards to avoid leaving too many footprints in the sand.
The soldiers followed suit. Working in pairs, they carefully untied the "iron watermelons" from the horses' backs.
Standing atop the highest dune, Xu Zhan used the faint starlight to determine their bearings. He extended a finger and traced the shape of a wild goose's wing in the air.
"Left flank, thirty paces. Bury three of them, five paces apart."
"Right flank, thirty paces. Also three of them."
"Center, advance fifty paces. Lay down four in a triangular formation."
His orders were clear and brief. The soldiers strictly followed his instructions, stepping on the wooden boards and using their short daggers to dig shallow holes half a foot deep in the sand.
The burial process was exceptionally careful. They gently placed the "iron watermelons" into the pits, ensuring the pressure plates faced upward, and then scooped the sand back by hand, lightly covering them.
Finally, they pulled up a few clumps of withered yellow sea buckthorn grass from nearby and scattered them randomly around the burial sites as camouflage.
In less than the time it takes an incense stick to burn, all twenty deadly weapons had been buried beneath this seemingly peaceful sand dune.
Xu Zhan carefully inspected the area once more. Only after confirming there were no flaws did he give the order.
"Smooth over all tracks, withdraw!"
The soldiers quickly gathered the wooden boards and mounted their horses.
Under Xu Zhan's lead, they quietly retreated into the deeper darkness, as if they had never been there.
Above the dunes, only the night wind remained, blowing through the dry grass with a whimpering sound that concealed all the murderous intent beneath the yellow sand.
Not long after their departure, a chaotic clatter of hooves drifted over from the distant horizon, growing steadily closer.
A band of about a hundred Helian outriders, singing rough prairie ballads, was galloping wildly and entirely off guard toward this land of death.
