Seeing this scene, the black-clad adversaries who accompanied the man were all stunned with fear.
"Village Chief!"
"Lord of the Stronghold!"
Amidst the cries of lament, their offensive naturally slowed down.
The porters, who were being beaten back step by step, finally got a chance to catch their breath.
Meanwhile, Zhao Ya charged forward with a long saber in hand.
The Gale Saber Technique was instantly unleashed, and the saber light swept towards these black-clad men like a sheet.
These men attempted to retaliate, but unfortunately, neither their personal strength nor their weapons could match.
In just one encounter, three black-clad men were cut down by Zhao Ya.
"The wind is tight, let’s get out of here!"
Seeing the situation was hopeless, the remaining men turned and ran.
Zhao Ya certainly wouldn’t let them escape.
With a tap of his toes on the ground, Zhao Ya performed the Swallow’s Three Dips body technique, in a blink appearing behind one of the fleeing men, and with a flick of his wrist, the Meteorite Iron Saber cleaved through.
Then Zhao Ya didn’t even glance at the man, quickening his pace again, chasing after those who had already run into the woods.
The black-clad man managed a few more steps before a bloodstain abruptly appeared on his neck, and then his head flew off.
Such a spectacle left the porters in shock.
They all knew Zhao Ya was skilled, but never anticipated his saber technique would be so formidable.
How swift must the blade be to unknowingly sever a man, letting him run a few more steps before body and head were separate?
In the blink of an eye, Zhao Ya returned from the forest, his body still warm with blood.
"What’s the situation?" Zhao Ya asked in a deep voice.
"Reporting to Master Zhao, three of our brothers are wounded, one is severely injured, but the goods are intact." A porter quickly reported, his face full of awe.
Zhao Ya nodded, striding over to the three wounded men.
Two only had minor flesh wounds, but one had a belly pierced by a spear tip, through the wound, even the writhing intestines were visible.
Zhao Ya’s heart grew heavy.
He knew in this world lacking medical care, such an injury was tantamount to a death sentence.
But as the escort leader, he mustered his spirits.
So he immediately ordered someone to bring the knife wound medicine and hemostatic balm they carried, treating the wounds of the three injured.
Then he instructed to clear a spot on the escort vehicle to place the severely injured porter.
Regardless if the man could survive, Zhao Ya had to take him back.
Then Zhao Ya ordered others to quickly clean up the escort vehicle while he handled the bodies.
The arrows embedded in the escort vehicle needed to be removed, the dead mules and livestock dealt with.
The bodies were crucial.
Zhao Ya dragged the bodies of the black-clad men to the roadside woods and began searching them one by one.
First and foremost was the man called the Village Chief.
Zhao Ya first removed the crossbow arrow lodged in his neck, then started searching him.
But after a search, Zhao Ya was greatly disappointed.
Because all he found was a waist tag, nothing valuable.
"Pah, such a pauper."
Zhao Ya spat, just about to stand up when he noticed the man’s collar was odd; the left side was obviously thicker than the right.
Zhao Ya immediately tore off the left collar.
Sure enough.
Inside the collar was a piece of paper.
Upon opening it, Zhao Ya was delighted.
It was a prescription, named Blood Replenishing Powder, used to nourish qi and blood.
And this was exactly what Zhao Ya urgently needed.
He discreetly tucked the paper into his chest and continued searching the others.
The rest proved equally disappointing, aside from some scattered silver taels, there was nothing else.
So Zhao Ya piled the bodies together, doused them with kerosene, and set them alight.
The roaring flames rose, and shortly after, the bodies turned to charcoal.
Ensuring no clues about himself could be found from the bodies, Zhao Ya turned and exited the woods.
The battlefield was already tidied up, the escort vehicle repaired.
But without animals to pull the vehicle, how to proceed posed a problem.
"Except for the three injured, others split into two teams, four per team, taking turns pulling the vehicle; we must depart here as swiftly as possible," Zhao Ya said.
In fact, he didn’t need to emphasize; everyone knew the stakes, thus had no dissent toward Zhao Ya’s decision.
Soon, the group, following Zhao Ya’s orders, divided into two groups, pulling the vehicle towards Wuxiang City.
"Master Zhao, let me pull the vehicle for you, you must be exhausted from fighting those bandits. Rest!", a porter stepped forward and said.
"Indeed, leave the pulling to us," someone beside echoed.
Zhao Ya shook his head, "No need, I’m fine, you all eat something to regain energy, and rotate later."
The porters were all deeply moved.
Today’s ordeal thoroughly convinced them.
After all, if Zhao Ya hadn’t eliminated those bandits, they would have long perished.
If before their respect stemmed from his prowess and status.
Now, it was entirely heartfelt.
Though pulling by manpower, these porters were martial artists at Great Success in Bone Refining, plus today’s events stimulated them, so by dusk, they reached the usual inn.
The shopkeeper was startled at their sight, hurriedly coming to greet them.
Zhao Ya instructed him to quickly prepare lodging and food, and also set up an extra clean room for the injured to recuperate.
The shopkeeper promptly complied.
Zhao Ya approached the escort vehicle, where the porter lying there was deathly pale, the wound on his belly though wrapped in cotton still oozed blood.
Zhao Ya’s heart sank, knowing he probably couldn’t last through the night.
"Zhao... Brother Zhao!" The porter called weakly upon seeing Zhao Ya approach.
Zhao Ya moved closer, "Wang He, if you have anything to say, say it."
The porter gave a bitter smile.
"Nothing much, just want to ask you to tell my fiancée not to wait for me once you return, and to find a good family to marry."
Zhao Ya remained silent.
He had heard shortly after joining the Escort Agency that Wang He was engaged and was planning to marry this year, but now had no chance.
"Alright, focus on healing, perhaps you can make it back."
Wang He smiled and closed his eyes, saying nothing more.
Alas, no miracle occurred, and shortly after dinner, Wang He succumbed to his severe injury.
All the porters wept.
Especially Tan Dong, who cried the loudest.
This escort journey mercilessly shattered his every illusion about the Jianghu.
He finally understood, Jianghu wasn’t as the storytellers in teahouses described, full of spirited ventures and glorious exploits.
Jianghu was more about perilous slaughter and unnoticed deaths.