The General's Household Retainers

A Purple Gold Mace, the thickness of a duck egg, was casually brought down, smashing the skull of a leading warrior among the Qing soldiers until it was pulp, reaching all the way to his navel. The heavy armor and helmet were useless. The next moment, Bai Lang swept his right-hand Purple Gold Mace horizontally, and several Qing soldiers who had followed him onto the city wall were split from their chests into piles of bodies, folded in half with their arms and chests as the pivot point.

Blood sprayed wildly. "Apologies for wasting a head. You guys go chop some more," Bai Lang said to a few soldiers. "I'm going to kill a few more."

Outside the city, the slave chief Abahai watched the battle on horseback with several Ezen. "The city is breached." Seeing the Qing soldiers ascend the city wall, the Jurchen officers weren't surprised or overly joyful—they had seen this scene too many times. Once Qing soldiers took the city wall of a stubbornly defended Ming city, the fall of the city gate was just a matter of time, the only question being whether it would take the time of one incense stick or a bit longer. At this moment, news of victory also came from the Qing soldiers attacking other city gates; they had almost all ascended the city wall in one go, and the city would fall in the blink of an eye.

However, the momentum of the assault on the city wall was suddenly halted. Instead, Ming soldiers suddenly appeared on the wall, shooting arrows and throwing stones down. Abahai let out an "Mm?" but wasn't surprised. It was likely just a counterattack by some brave Ming warriors or generals' household retainers. Another wave would probably crush them; it wasn't unusual.

The Qing soldiers below gathered again, using strong bows and heavy arrows to shoot down the Ming soldiers on the wall. In the blink of an eye, they had suppressed the Ming army again. This time, the Qing soldiers hadn't used cannons to bombard the city. It was merely a Yanzhou city, and it could be taken with one concerted effort. Moreover, the first wave of attackers wasn't even the Eight Banners, the clansmen of the Manchus themselves.

But a figure appeared on the city wall, shielding his face with an arm—the arm was armored, deflecting the arrows one by one. Then, the person leaped from the city wall, landing on the ground with a thud. There were no Qing soldier corpses below to cushion the fall—although Yanzhou had resisted, their fighting strength was weak. Even the Qing soldiers killed outside the city, along with their corpses and the wounded, had already been carried back.

After landing, the Ming soldier stood up. He had jumped from a city wall nearly twenty feet high and was completely unharmed. After a slight sway of his body, he charged towards the Qing soldiers. The generals below all chuckled. "This person has lost his mind. Go cut off his head! He's a brave man for being able to jump down." The White Banner soldiers had been prepared to storm the city long ago; now they just needed to push forward a bit and lop off the head of the lone Ming soldier charging towards them.

Bai Lang held a sixty-four-jin Polished Purple Gold Mace in each hand. The three-foot-six-inch Purple Gold Maces were as thick as duck eggs, appearing dark and unremarkable. Bai Lang himself was still wearing chain mail with a battle robe over it. He had arm guards on both arms, and the only other piece of armor was an eight-paneled iron helmet. Bai Lang crossed his maces in front of his face, blocking the arrows shot at him, and charged towards the Qing ranks without slowing his pace.

He didn't use his Lightness Skill, but the Qing ranks were only about thirty paces away, reachable in about ten breaths. The heavy arrows shot by the Qing soldiers were quite powerful, but they were useless against Bai Lang. The chain mail, a gift from the General, had fine, dense eyelets and was decent armor. Furthermore, Bai Lang's physical body was protected by the Thirteen Great Protectors' Adamantine Bell Shield technique. Even if an arrow managed to pierce the chain mail, it wouldn't leave much of a mark on Bai Lang's body—the force would be significantly reduced.

Thus, Bai Lang charged through the arrows. This surprised a few Bayala White Banner soldiers. "This Ming person really has some skill. He must be wearing double armor." These White Banner soldiers joked amongst themselves, casually preparing to kill this Ming soldier. A ten-jin saber swung down at him, but Bai Lang blocked it with his left-hand Purple Gold Mace. The saber immediately flew out of the soldier's hand, and his Tiger Mouth was even split open, bleeding profusely.

The Bayala's hand went numb, his entire arm feeling as if it had lost sensation. He was about to shout when an iron mace came down towards him. "Oh, be careful not to break the head." The White Banner soldier even heard this remark. Then, his vision went black. Even if he had been wearing double armor, it would have been useless. The mace struck him from the shoulder down to his waist, and he fell like a broken sack, spilling blood and internal organ fragments.

Another Bayala raised his shield—these were veterans who had fought many battles and immediately raised their shields. But Bai Lang's left-hand Purple Gold Mace thrust forward, shattering the shield with a crash. It then pierced through the arms of the White Banner soldier holding the shield and his chest, creating a large hole and pushing his spine out through his back.

Next, Bai Lang wielded his maces, and Qing soldiers in the ranks began to fly through the air, twisted and mangled, landing several meters away with heavy thuds. "Trash!" Bai Lang flicked and smashed with one mace, sending a person weighing over two hundred jin flying like a straw wisp. Such divine strength was like something out of a theatrical tale.

The Qing Jia La E Zhen, Niu Lu E Zhen, Gu Shan E Zhen, and Abahai behind them were all stunned. This Ming soldier had entered the formation alone and, as if slicing vegetables, broke through the formation with dual weapons. Looking at the way he smashed and killed, was it not just for show but real? Could someone in this world truly wield such heavy weapons?

The long spears and sabers behind them lunged towards Bai Lang, but with a smash of the Purple Gold Mace, they were cleanly bent or broken. The soldiers wielding these weapons had their Tiger Mouths split, unable to hold their weapons. Then, Bai Lang leaped in like a tiger and began his slaughter. As for arrows? When a White Banner soldier shot a heavy arrow at Bai Lang's face, it slid off. After that, the Qing soldiers began to fall apart. "Invincible! Invincible!" someone shouted in panic. The entire Qing formation attacking the city began to scatter.

Prince Abahai felt a sense of foreboding. This Ming general, who looked like an unparalleled fierce warrior—he was no longer a Ming soldier's household retainer, but a fierce Ming general who must have appeared from somewhere, fiercer than the Bayala White Banner soldiers, and was charging towards him. "Cavalry, bring up the cavalry! Use firearms!" Abahai was actually one of the more capable sons of the old slave. Although the situation was dire, he could still deploy cavalry to charge and use firearms. After all, even now, only about thirty Qing soldiers had fallen to Bai Lang.

No Ming soldiers followed behind Bai Lang; he had charged in alone. Therefore, Qing soldiers behind him attempted to shoot arrows and outflank him, but no one in front of him dared to block him. This continued until firearm soldiers, followed by cavalry, appeared in front of Bai Lang.