Chapter 43

Without his twin maces, Bai Lang actually had a wider variety of attacks at his disposal. Still, carrying the 128-jin Purple Gold Mace made it difficult to turn quickly, so as he charged forward, he drew the pair and hurled them away, taking two lives.

The Purple Gold Maces he threw struck two Qing soldiers whose armor was clearly different from the others', piercing straight through them. Their double layers of armor were useless. Both men spat blood and fell backward, the maces having gone through their chests and out their backs. Without the burden of 128 jin, Bai Lang was even faster.

The two Qing soldiers he had killed were quickly dragged away. It seemed status still mattered. "Damn it! Do I have some kind of grudge against weapons? I exchanged points for these! Now I'll have to be without them for a while." Bai Lang had no time to retrieve his weapons. He was busy killing people.

These soldiers were just as formidable in battle—compared to the ordinary people he had encountered before, they were accustomed to warfare with cold weapons and wouldn't flee even at the sight of bloodshed. They were also well-armored and armed, and had weapons specifically suited to dealing with someone as skilled in martial arts as Bai Lang: grappling hooks and lassos.

They still hadn't managed to ensnare Bai Lang, but the soldiers were using heavy shields to restrict his movements, heedless of their casualties. It looked as if that wouldn't work for much longer. Bai Lang was swift and agile, especially when it came to using his momentum to leap. They probably wouldn't be able to contain him much longer.

Most importantly, Bai Lang's attacks were extraordinarily powerful. His punches and kicks were just as hard to stop—only slightly less formidable than the iron maces. The shock in his fists was difficult to block even with armor and a shield. And once he stopped using the twin maces, his legs were fearsome too. But most terrifying of all were his hands. When he struck with his tiger claws, he was no less fearsome than a real tiger.

His force flowed through his fingers like the claws of a real tiger. This was the result of Bai Lang having mastered the Tiger Form True Intent. He knew he had yet to reach the pinnacle, but even so, he could now project his claw force outward, leaving deep gouges in the soldiers' shields.

As for their armor, a swipe of his tiger claws warped the plates, then tore them apart. Cotton armor was easy to rip open; it had never been designed to withstand someone tearing it apart with brute force. After ripping it open, he struck again. This time, the soldier wore chain mail, but Bai Lang could still inflict severe injuries. A strike to the chest or abdomen might even disembowel him through the chain mail.

"Too bad I haven't reached the fourth stage! Otherwise, why would I fear fighting a crowd like this?" Bai Lang fought his way in every direction, killing another four or five men. But more and more lassos and grappling hooks were coming at him, and it looked as if more Qing soldiers were pouring out. He had finally been held up. "Time to go!" Bai Lang made up his mind. With a roar, he spread his claws and forced a passage open, then unleashed his lightness skill and dashed out of the encirclement in just a few strides. "They're closing in." Bai Lang quickened his pace, seeming to glide over the ground.

He planted his toe on the ground. His internal energy made the earth tremble slightly, and he used the recoil to launch himself into the air. Turning a somersault, he landed several zhang away. By then, he had opened up some distance, and one of his brave subordinates had brought his warhorse over. Bai Lang mounted. "Let's go!" Then he turned the horse around and began to retreat.

After galloping a hundred paces or so, Bai Lang reined in his horse. The Qing soldiers had already begun to regroup—pursuing him would only get them killed, like offering their heads to him. Bai Lang gave the Qing camp a thumbs-down, then rode off with a loud laugh. "He'll come back," Abahai said, watching Bai Lang disappear into the distance.

This time, the Qing had suffered a real loss. Bai Lang had left behind his pair of iron maces—or perhaps they couldn't even be called iron maces anymore, since they seemed to contain copper or gold as well. They were incredibly heavy. Even Abahai could lift one with a single hand, but he could never wield it the way Bai Lang had. In the attempt to surround Bai Lang, they had lost two Niulu Zhangjing, four Fende Bosiku, eleven Bayala armored soldiers, and six cavalrymen. They had never suffered losses like this, not even when routing a large Ming Army force.

In the end, all they had done was take the other man's twin maces. They hadn't even stopped him from taking their heads. What kind of victory was that? Their dead were real, and if that fellow was still lurking nearby, ready to launch another attack whenever he found an opening—even during a march or a siege—just thinking about it made their scalps tingle. With a fierce general like that leading the way, breaking through a siege with a large cavalry force or infantry force would be a serious problem.

By now, even the ordinary Qing soldiers had lost heart. Their opponent had killed so many warriors and appeared completely unharmed when he left. He also seemed likely to return. No Qing soldier could possibly feel emboldened. A serious question now lay before them: should they admit that their campaign in Shandong had failed and leave while supplies were still adequate, the soldiers still had strength and energy, and morale remained passable? Or should they stick to the original plan and keep fighting in Shandong, plundering more women, children, and gold and silver?

The second choice was unthinkable. If the enemy were ready and waiting, the Qing might still have some chance of taking cities and territory. But escorting their plundered captives back? Just thinking about it made clear it was impossible. The army would be burdened and sluggish, leaving openings everywhere for Bai Lang to break through. Once he broke in, everyone could imagine how quickly he would slaughter ordinary soldiers.

Before he was exhausted and forced to withdraw, he might really kill hundreds of Qing soldiers.

"Retreat." Having made his decision, Abahai's already careworn face grew even more bitter. He had never been favored by the Old Khan, and after Hong Taiji took power, even though Abahai was a capable commander, he had only risen to the rank of beile. In the Eight Banners system, he ranked behind his brothers—he was given the hard, thankless jobs, but never the promotions. Now that he had made this decision, he could already imagine being blamed again. He would be lucky to keep his title of beile; if Hong Taiji meant to reprimand and humiliate him, he might even be demoted to beizi.

Thinking of this, Abahai felt utterly aggrieved. Why had such a formidable general appeared on his route? In truth, he should have been glad. Historically, the Qing losses during this incursion had been no small matter, and many high-ranking officials and nobles had died. A number of officers in charge of the guards and other troops had been killed. Compared with history, retreating now would actually mean fewer casualties.

Still, the Qing soldiers had lost their nerve. When they pulled up camp and retreated, Bai Lang tried to attack them, but they used their carts for protection and fired arrows and muskets as fast as they could. Nearly everyone had grappling hooks and similar weapons at the ready, so Bai Lang could only take a few heads. He couldn't delay the Qing much. There were too few of his men, and the others couldn't fight alone on an entire front. The Ming Army in the nearby prefectures and counties didn't dare fight in the field, though they could defend their cities.

A month later, the Qing had completely withdrawn, and communications were finally restored. After trying several attacks and realizing they wouldn't work, Bai Lang had already returned to Yanzhou. Now it was finally time to receive the court's reward. "It's just a shame about my Polished Purple Gold Mace! Damn, I bought that good thing with points."