The Uninvited Guest

The peasant army before them numbered in the tens of thousands, much like before, with generals leading their personal cavalry, followed by seasoned veterans, then conscripted civilians and rabble, and finally, the elderly, weak, women, and children swept along. The decisive battle with Governor-General Sun was proceeding as planned; the peasant army would eventually undergo regularization, separating most of these conscripted weaklings into their own camps. But for now, Li Guo's army was about to clash with Governor-General Deng's "great army."

Governor-General Deng was prepared to die in battle. He was not defending the city but engaging the peasant army in open warfare. With his abilities, if he lost, he likely wouldn't escape—he had just over three thousand troops, utterly useless. His only hope was that Bai Lang could defeat the peasant army. He held some expectation for this.

Bai Lang charged ahead alone, his cavalry a full fifty paces behind him, which was already considered a significant gap. Bai Lang's attire was quite resplendent. The finely crafted mountain pattern armor from the Ministry of War gleamed, along with a tiger-head gorget and a polished chest plate, making him a shining figure. The Phoenix Wing Helmet, also meticulously crafted by the Ministry of War and kept in storage, bore a tiger-face decoration. Coupled with the red tassel atop the helmet, Bai Lang's long red cloak, and the equally gleaming half-barding on his warhorse, he truly became the focal point of the battlefield.

"Kill! Kill this general of the Zhu family!" the peasant soldiers roared, loosing their arrows, while their firearms were ready. Bai Lang casually deflected the incoming arrows. "Hmph, your arrows are far too weak compared to the Jianzhou Jurchens!" Bai Lang held the Azure Dragon Crescent Blade in one hand. The blade was a full ten feet long, with the head alone measuring four feet, appearing to be a fearsome weapon.

Deflecting arrows was a minor matter; they wouldn't even penetrate the horse's barding, let alone Bai Lang's broad blade, which easily protected his mount. But then came the firearms. These firearm soldiers opened fire as soon as Bai Lang charged. One man fired, and then everyone else haphazardly discharged their firearms. At this point, Bai Lang was still a full fifty paces away, and as a result, none of the shots hit.

The archers could fire another volley, but the firearms wouldn't get another chance. The spearmen had already formed their ranks—as the peasant army's territory grew, many regular Ming army soldiers surrendered, allowing these rebels to form proper battle formations. The arrows, as usual, were ineffective, and by then, Bai Lang had arrived. He pulled back on the reins, causing his warhorse to veer sideways, then he grabbed the end of the blade with one hand and swung it forcefully from back to front.

This was already divine strength. Practicing the Thirteen Great Protectors' Adamantine Bell Shield shouldn't have yielded such power, nor should practicing the Thirty-two Forms Long Fist's Tiger Form True Intent. It could only be said that Bai Lang's body possessed natural talent. The blade cut through the air with a sharp whistle, followed by an indescribable sound, like a series of clattering impacts. All the spears were either severed or deflected, and the soldiers wielding them were cut down, men and armor alike, blood spraying more than waist-high.

With a single strike, not only chain mail and cotton armor but flesh and bone were all cleaved apart. The ferocity of this blow was unprecedented. Bai Lang, using the momentum, urged his horse forward again, this time directly charging into the line of fallen soldiers he had just created. This time, Bai Lang held the blade with both hands, his movements not large, no longer the sweeping attack from before, but with his hands as the pivot, he skillfully maneuvered the blade left and right of the horse's head—this was purely achieved through brute force.

Each swing cleaved through armored soldiers. With almost a single blow, the morale of the peasant army's vanguard was shattered. Many, even before facing Bai Lang, turned and fled. After Bai Lang dispersed this formation, the cavalry behind him arrived and took the opportunity to slaughter the fleeing infantry, driving them to charge the second line. Since Bai Lang was closely following the fleeing soldiers, shouting "Those who charge the formation will be killed without mercy!" was useless. The order to flee to the sides had long been forgotten by the panicked fugitives.

"Truly a peerless fierce general! He broke the rebels with a single blow!" Governor-General Deng exclaimed loudly, then shouted at his stunned officers and soldiers, "Follow him! Kill the rebels!" The seasoned Ming soldiers let out a roar and began charging to take heads, though their pace was still slow, and they were prepared to turn and flee at any moment.

Bai Lang paid no mind to what was happening behind him. To him, these soldiers were no different from walking meat. Under the weight of the blade and its momentum, he could easily slice through a man by controlling the direction of his strength. "So, once you start swinging, you can use techniques to save energy and change direction. No wonder the books say generals can charge for so long. It seems the principles of martial arts are all interconnected." His Tiger Form True Intent also had similar attack methods, using the recoil of a pounce to change the direction of an attack; even a small cat could do that.

Bai Lang charged straight for the enemy's center. He intended to kill the rebel general or topple the central banner, at which point the army would collapse. He was met by the rebels' true elite—their cavalry. These were hardened veterans or surrendered Ming elites who had proven themselves through multiple campaigns and had become the true elite of the rebels. Facing them, Bai Lang didn't find them particularly elite.

The Azure Dragon Crescent Blade swept upwards, easily slicing a horse from its chest to its head, splitting it in two. The rider on its back was also bisected from chest to head, man and horse's hardened skulls no match for the blade, like tofu. The chain mail offered no protection. Then, Bai Lang flipped his palm, and the long blade horizontally slashed, severing another cavalryman's upper body along with his horse's head.

Bai Lang lightly pressed the hilt, and the long blade leaped over his own horse's head, switching to the other side for another thrust. This time, he impaled a rebel cavalryman on the tip of his blade. Bai Lang then shook his hand, and the man was dismembered by the Azure Dragon Blade. He killed like harvesting grass. Bai Lang had only spurred his warhorse forward a dozen paces before he had slain six veteran cavalrymen, remaining unharmed himself. Someone loosed an arrow, but it was blocked by Bai Lang's palm; his bare flesh couldn't even be penetrated by an arrow at close range.

The archer cavalryman was captured by Bai Lang's "riding-and-capturing" technique. Their horses met, and with his left hand, Bai Lang reached out and pulled him off his horse. Bai Lang shook his hand, the cavalryman slid down, and Bai Lang grabbed his neck, exerting force and tearing off his head—in full view of everyone, he hung it on a hook on his saddle. The cavalry behind him arrived, and seeing this, they roared and charged with arrows and spears, while the peasant cavalry began to scatter.

Li Guo had already fled, but the central banner had not escaped as quickly.