The Polished Purple Gold Mace

If he didn't use the double maces, it actually increased the variety of Bai Lang's attacks. However, carrying the 128-jin Purple Gold Mace was still a bit clumsy, so when Bai Lang lunged forward, he also drew out the double Purple Gold Maces and threw them, reaping two lives.

The thrown Purple Gold Maces struck two Qing soldiers whose armor was clearly different, piercing directly into them. Their double armor was useless. These two men also spat blood and fell backward, the Purple Gold Maces going through them from chest to back. Without the 128-jin burden, Bai Lang's speed increased.

However, the two Qing soldiers he killed were quickly dragged away, indicating a difference in status. "Damn it! Do I have a vendetta against weapons? These were what I exchanged points for! Now they'll be leaving me again." Bai Lang didn't have time to retrieve his weapons; he was busy killing.

These soldiers were also very strong in combat—compared to the ordinary people he had encountered before, these men were accustomed to cold weapon warfare and did not flinch even at the sight of blood. Furthermore, their armor and weapons made them formidable, and they even had weapons specifically for skilled martial artists like Bai Lang—grappling hooks and lassos.

They hadn't managed to trap Bai Lang yet, but these men, holding heavy shields and disregarding casualties, were restricting Bai Lang's movement—but it seemed to be failing now. Bai Lang's movements were swift and agile, especially his ability to use leverage to jump, which would likely be difficult to contain for a while.

The most crucial point was that Bai Lang's attacks were extraordinarily powerful; the force of his punches and kicks was also difficult to resist—only slightly better than an iron mace, but the jarring force from his fists was hard to block even with armor and a shield. And once he stopped using the double maces, the power of his legs was also extraordinary. But the most terrifying were his hands; a grab from his Tiger Claw was as fearsome as a real tiger.

The internal energy passed through his fingers, just like a real tiger's claws. This was the result of Bai Lang mastering the Tiger Form True Intent. He knew he hadn't reached the pinnacle yet, but he could already project his claw energy, leaving deep marks even on the shields.

So, to say nothing of armor, his Tiger Claw would deform the armor plates with a single grasp, then tear—cotton armor could be easily ripped apart, as it wasn't designed to withstand such forceful tearing. After tearing, he would grab again. This time it was chain mail, but it still caused severe injuries. If he grabbed the chest or abdomen, it could even result in disembowelment beneath the chain mail.

"A pity, I still haven't reached the fourth stage! Otherwise, why would I fear a group fight like this!" Bai Lang weaved left and right, taking down four or five more lives, but the lassos and grappling hooks increased, and it seemed more Qing soldiers were rushing out—he was finally being held back. "Time to go!" Bai Lang made his decision. He roared, separating his claws, forcefully blasting open a path, and then fully unleashed his Lightness Skill, breaking out of the encirclement in a few steps. "They're surrounding me." Bai Lang quickened his pace, gliding as if on the ground.

His toes touched the ground, and the earth trembled slightly from the surge of internal energy. Bai Lang used the reaction force to leap directly into the air, somersaulting in mid-air, and landing several yards away. He had created distance, and his warhorse was brought over by a brave subordinate. Bai Lang mounted the horse. "Go!" he commanded, then turned the horse and began to retreat.

After galloping about a hundred paces, Bai Lang reined in his horse. The Qing soldiers were already regrouping—pursuing him would be suicidal, a waste of lives. Bai Lang gave the Qing soldiers' camp a thumbs-down gesture, then let out a wild laugh and fled. "He will return." Abahai said, watching Bai Lang disappear.

This time, it was truly a loss that outweighed any gain. Although it could be said that Bai Lang abandoned his double maces—or rather, they didn't appear to be iron maces anymore, but rather some kind of bronze or gold—they were incredibly heavy. Even Abahai himself could lift them with one hand, but he couldn't wield them like Bai Lang. To surround Bai Lang, two Niulu Zhangjing, four Fende Bosiku, and eleven Bayala armored soldiers died, along with six Majia soldiers. Even when defeating large Ming armies, they had never suffered such casualties.

In the end, they only managed to seize the opponent's double maces. Not letting the opponent escape with his life was hardly a victory. The deaths on their side were real, and if this guy lingered nearby, waiting for an opportunity to strike, perhaps even during marches or sieges, the thought alone made their scalps tingle. Such a fierce general leading the way, breaking through defenses with a large cavalry or infantry force, would be truly problematic.

At this point, the morale of the ordinary Qing soldiers had also plummeted. The opponent had killed so many brave warriors, yet he appeared completely unharmed when he left, and it looked like he would return—no Qing soldier would feel their morale was high. Serious problems had truly arisen: should they admit defeat in the Shandong offensive and withdraw while supplies were still adequate, soldiers' energy and stamina were sufficient, and morale was still acceptable, or should they stick to the original plan and continue fighting in Shandong, plundering more children, gold, and silver?

The latter choice was unthinkable. If it were a well-prepared siege, perhaps Bai Lang wouldn't have had much of a chance, but escorting captured children back? It was impossible to even imagine. Their clumsy, slow army would have countless gaps for Bai Lang to exploit. Once he broke through, the speed at which he could slaughter ordinary soldiers was unimaginable.

Before he exhausted himself and retreated, he might truly kill hundreds of Qing soldiers.

"Retreat." Abahai, having made his decision, wore an even more bitter expression. He had been out of favor since his time as a 'young slave.' After Hong Taiji ascended the throne, although Abahai was a capable general, he was still only a Beile by now. In the Eight Banners system, he ranked behind his other brothers—he did the hard and dirty work, but promotions passed him by. After making this decision, Abahai could foresee that he would have to shoulder the blame again. It would be good enough if he could keep his Beile title this time; if Hong Taiji intended to reprimand or humiliate him, he could even be demoted to Beizi.

Thinking of this, Abahai felt truly wronged—why did such a fierce general have to appear on his campaign? In fact, he should be happy. Historically, the Qing army suffered significant losses during this invasion, and many high-ranking officials died, including commanders of the imperial guards. Compared to history, their casualties were actually smaller now that they were withdrawing.

However, the Qing soldiers were ultimately demoralized. When they broke camp to retreat, Bai Lang attempted to charge, but they protected themselves with large carts, firing arrows and firearms desperately, and almost everyone was prepared with grappling hooks. Thus, Bai Lang could only capture a few heads, but he couldn't delay the Qing soldiers much—he was too few, and the others lacked the ability to charge alone. The Ming armies in the nearby prefectures and counties dared not engage in open battle; defending their cities was their only option.

A month later, the Qing soldiers had completely withdrawn, and transportation finally resumed. Bai Lang had returned to Yanzhou after a few failed attempts to disrupt them, and now it was time to officially receive his imperial reward. "What a shame about my Polished Purple Gold Mace! Damn it, that was a good item bought with points."