The Return of the Household Retainer

These people ultimately couldn't stop Bai Lang, and he managed to ride out with about ten men. This time, Bai Lang wore double armor, with chain mail underneath and mountain pattern armor on the outside. Packhorses carried spare cotton armor and chain mail. Led by men who were originally household retainers and scouts, they followed the trail of the Qing soldiers. "Don't charge headfirst, just follow me and collect enemy heads," Bai Lang's arrogant words, surprisingly, boosted their fervent morale.

Anyone would want to charge behind a peerless fierce general, especially one who barely needed anyone to protect him. Such a person could only be compared to the Hegemon Xiang Yu from the storybooks—Xiang Yu, after all, scattered the Han army with twenty-eight riders, suffering no losses himself. Bai Lang rode his horse, a specially selected large steed to carry him, while his double iron mace was placed on another horse—otherwise, the horse wouldn't be able to bear the weight. Over a hundred catties was roughly equivalent to an unarmored ordinary soldier.

The Great Ming of today did not have the cold-blooded heavy horses of Europe; carrying two people would surely be too much for a long journey. Bai Lang was tall and strong, and his own weight plus the armor he wore likely tipped the scales at two hundred and forty to two hundred and fifty catties. The warhorse beneath him was already doing a great job just carrying him—it was a fine horse, and the General said it was a breed from the northwest, a head taller than the common Mongolian horses in the army. However, for Bai Lang, who had seen those European heavy horses, this horse was just average.

The fewer people, the faster the march. Even though Bai Lang had set out two days later than the Qing soldiers, he caught up to them within a single day. However, he encountered the Qing soldiers' scouts, who were far out, screening the rear of the Qing forces. From Bai Lang's perspective, there were three riders. Upon seeing Bai Lang and his men, they immediately turned their horses and fled, showing none of the eagerness to charge and fight that Ming army scouts would typically display when encountering enemy scouts.

"They recognize me?" Bai Lang chuckled. Such a large man would be easily spotted by the enemy. Whether it was Bai Lang or not, reporting back was the correct course of action—if it wasn't Bai Lang, then they hadn't killed any Ming army scouts; if it was Bai Lang and they didn't report back, they would be executed according to military law even if they survived. The Qing soldiers absolutely did not want Bai Lang to raid their camp; if this man charged in, they generally couldn't stop him.

As expected, when Bai Lang and his men arrived at the Qing army camp, the enemy was already fully prepared. "Hmph, grappling hooks, nets, and longbows with heavy arrows, they've really prepared thoroughly. But how will you plunder like this? As for me, I'll just wear you down!" Bai Lang urged his horse to circle about a hundred paces away, momentarily abandoning the idea of raiding the camp. This tactic also gave the Qing soldiers a headache; forget about breaking camp and marching, even collecting firewood, water, and food within the camp was a hassle.

If a squad of soldiers went out, Bai Lang could kill them in the time it takes to drink a cup of tea. Mobilizing a thousand men to surround and kill him—it would be a major undertaking, and they might not even be able to keep him. If he escaped, pursuit would be impossible. This was the purpose of a peerless fierce general: to guard outside the enemy camp like an iron chain across a river, leaving the enemy in an agonizing predicament, unable to advance or retreat. This matter of sweeping through Shandong and plundering slaves was impossible to carry out. If nothing else, Bai Lang was already charging the enemy formations at the beginning of the attack, making it impossible to take slaves away.

In fact, with the current morale and organization, it would be best to retreat and withdraw from Shandong, and then return to reclaim their territory after acquiring peerless fierce generals. However, wielding the double iron mace, weighing dozens of catties, with such ease—such a fierce general was truly rare. Looking around, the Eight Banners might not even have such a warrior. Even Aobai, the foremost warrior of the Eight Banners, who held the title of Baturu, might not be as formidable. That man only used a heavy iron sword weighing over twenty catties and charged into battle wearing triple armor.

However, it wasn't entirely so. Abahai had seen the Imperial Guards by Hong Taiji's side, and among them were martial arts experts wielding eighty-one-catty single-legged bronze statues. But these martial arts experts were skilled in combat but not in military affairs, and they were Han Chinese, so they wouldn't become Eight Banners Baturu. However, it seemed likely that several Janggin and Boshku would be dispatched with White Banner soldiers and Ge Bu Xian Chao Ha to try and capture or drive away this Han warrior.

It now appeared that this Han warrior had been promoted by beheading Jurchen heads; at the very least, the general's mountain pattern armor he wore was gleaming and undoubtedly a valuable item. Now, this Han warrior was empty-handed, and the double iron mace was on another horse—the Ming cavalry following him clearly showed signs of fear upon seeing the Qing camp, leaving this brave general to stand alone at the forefront.

Bai Lang surveyed the enemy camp before him. "Hmm? Are they coming out of the camp to fight me?" he said, leaning slightly forward on his horse. "Bring me my mace," he commanded. With the blast of a horn, the Qing camp gates opened wide, and a contingent of soldiers poured out. "Hmph, these must be the elite White Banner soldiers." Bai Lang saw infantry clad in triple armor, wielding large shields and heavy arrows, as well as heavily armored cavalry with both man and horse fully protected. They also carried grappling hooks and lassos.

In that case, perhaps these soldiers could actually block his attack? However, if they were to charge proactively, Bai Lang would have to see. With the enemy so well-prepared, charging forward might only result in killing a few men before being trapped—Bai Lang wasn't entirely confident about escaping if trapped. Frankly, he had no experience being surrounded by a large army, but his Lightness Skill should allow him to escape.

For now, he would maintain his distance. If he couldn't hone his Martial Arts through killing, he could at least do something for his country and people—although Bai Lang considered himself a citizen of the Republic, the Great Ming was still preferable to the Tartars and was the legitimate dynasty. He increased the distance between them, and the enemy also attempted to charge. "You few go on ahead; I might not be able to look after you later." Bai Lang circulated his internal energy, and the Purple Gold Mace emitted a low hum due to the surging internal energy.

The Golden Bell Shield was slowly taking shape, though it was not yet visible to the naked eye; his power had not reached that stage yet. Bai Lang could not protect the warhorse beneath him. He slowly urged his warhorse forward, preparing to meet the charge. The first to face Bai Lang were not cavalry, but heavily armored infantry. They drew their bows and aimed their arrows at Bai Lang's warhorse. Bai Lang dismounted and used his Purple Gold Mace to deflect the arrows. "Take my horse away first. Don't worry, I have a way. You all go on ahead."

Bai Lang looked at the formation before him and a smile appeared on his face. "Looking ahead into the darkness, it must be the enemy's lair. When I rush forward, I will slaughter them clean. Hehehehe." Bai Lang struck his two maces together, creating a loud clang, and then strode towards the enemy.