Chapter 46

The peasant army before him numbered tens of thousands. But, much like before, it was organized with generals leading their personal cavalry and battle-hardened veterans, followed by conscripted civilians serving as irregular troops, and finally the old, weak, women, and children rounded up along the way. The decisive battle with Governor Sun was now proceeding as planned, and sooner or later the peasant army would have to become a regular force, weeding out most of these conscripted civilians and forming them into separate camps. But right now, Li Guo's army was about to test itself against Governor Deng's "great army."

Governor Deng had already prepared to die for his country. They weren't defending a city; they were simply facing the peasant army in open battle. Given his abilities, if he lost, he probably wouldn't get away. With barely more than three thousand soldiers at his disposal, they were no use at all. His only hope was that Bai Lang could break the peasant army, and he still had some faith in him.

Bai Lang charged ahead alone, with the cavalry behind him a full fifty paces back. They had already fallen out of formation. Bai Lang's armor was also quite splendid. His finely crafted mountain-pattern armor, made by the Ministry of War, gleamed in the light. The tiger-head fastenings and shining breastplate made him look like a man of light. His Phoenix Wing Helmet was another carefully crafted treasure from the Ministry of War's storehouse, decorated with a tiger's face. A red plume topped it, and he wore a long red cape. Even his warhorse sported a gleaming half-barding. All in all, Bai Lang became the focus of every eye on the battlefield.

"Kill! Kill that Zhu general!" the peasant soldiers shouted. Arrows flew from their bows, while the matchlock men readied their weapons. Bai Lang casually knocked the arrows aside. "Hmph. Your bows are far weaker than those of the Jianzhou Tartars!" He held the Azure Dragon Crescent Blade in one hand. The weapon was a full zhang long, with a blade four chi in length. It looked like a terrifying instrument of slaughter.

Knocking aside the arrows was a minor matter. Even if they hit his horse, they couldn't pierce its armor, and Bai Lang's broad blade easily shielded the animal as well. But then came the matchlocks. As soon as Bai Lang charged, the matchlock men opened fire. One man fired, and then everyone else discharged their weapons in a chaotic rush. Bai Lang was still a full fifty paces away, so they didn't hit a thing.

The archers could get off another volley, but the matchlock men wouldn't get another chance. By then, the spearmen had formed ranks. As the peasant army's territory expanded, many regular Ming Army troops had surrendered, so even these rebels could form proper battle lines. The arrows were useless as usual. Bai Lang reached them, tugged the reins, and sent his horse veering diagonally. Then, gripping the end of the blade's shaft with one hand, he swung it hard from behind him, cutting forward.

That was godlike strength. Even training in the Thirteen Great Protectors' Adamantine Bell Shield shouldn't have produced such power, and neither should the Thirty-two Forms Long Fist's Tiger Form True Intent. All one could say was that Bai Lang's body was exceptionally gifted. The blade tore through the air with a sharp whistle. Then came a sound that was hard to describe, like a series of rapid thuds. Every spear was either cut apart or knocked aside, and the soldiers holding them were cleaved in two, armor and all. Blood sprayed more than half a man's height into the air.

That single blow cut through everything—not just mail and padded armor, but flesh and bone as well. Such a savage strike was unprecedented. Riding the momentum, Bai Lang urged his horse onward, charging straight into the line of corpses he had just made. This time he held the blade in both hands. His movements were smaller now, no longer the sweeping, all-out strike from before. Using his hands as a pivot, he shifted the blade back and forth, lightly and nimbly, on either side of the horse's head. He was accomplishing all of it through sheer strength.

With each swing, an armored soldier was cleaved apart. The peasant army's front line lost all morale in a single strike. Many turned and ran without even facing Bai Lang. Once he had scattered the line, the cavalry behind him arrived and took the opportunity to hack down the fleeing infantry, driving them into the second line. Bai Lang was almost on the heels of the fleeing soldiers, so shouting, "Anyone who breaks the formation will be executed!" was useless. The panicked deserters had long since forgotten the instructions to flee along the flanks.

"An unparalleled warrior indeed! He broke the enemy with one blow!" Governor Deng cried in praise. Then he shouted to the soldiers and officers, who were staring in stunned silence, "Follow him! Kill the enemy!" The old hands of the Ming Army roared and charged, eager to claim heads, though they advanced slowly and remained ready to turn back at any moment.

Bai Lang paid no attention to what was happening behind him. To him, the soldiers were no different from walking meat. The blade's weight and momentum made it easy to cut a man in two; he only had to redirect the force. So once you get it swinging, you can conserve your strength by using little tricks to change its direction. No wonder the books say a martial general can keep charging for so long. The principles behind martial arts must all be connected. His Tiger Form True Intent included similar attacks, using the recoil of a pounce to change direction. Even a big cat or a little cat could do that.

Bai Lang charged straight for the enemy's center. He figured that if he killed the rebel general or brought down the central banner, the entire army would collapse. The ones who rode out to meet him were the rebels' true elite—their cavalry. They were veterans of many battles, either seasoned bandits or elite Ming troops who had surrendered. After proving themselves time and again during the campaigns of forced conscription, they had become the rebels' real fighting core. But Bai Lang didn't find them especially elite.

The Azure Dragon Crescent Blade swept upward. With ease, it split a horse from its chest all the way to its head, and cleaved the rider in half from abdomen to skull as well. The hard skulls of man and horse were no sturdier than tofu against the blade, and the mail did nothing to help. Then Bai Lang turned his wrist and swept the blade sideways, cutting through another cavalryman's upper body and his horse's head in one stroke.

Bai Lang lightly pressed down on the hilt, sending the blade over his own horse's head. He thrust from the other side, impaling a rebel cavalryman on its tip. Then he gave his hand a flick, and the Azure Dragon Saber dismembered the man. He cut down men as easily as mowing grass. In the time it took his horse to cover a dozen paces, he had killed six veteran cavalrymen without a scratch. One man drew his bow and fired, but Bai Lang caught the arrow in his palm. Even at close range, it couldn't pierce his bare hand.

Bai Lang rode up alongside the archer and seized him from the saddle as their horses crossed. With a shake of his hand, he slid the cavalryman downward, then grabbed him by the neck and pulled with all his might, tearing his head off. In full view of everyone, he hung it from a hook on his saddle. The cavalry behind him arrived, shouting as they charged with bows and spears, while the peasant army's horsemen began to scatter.

By then, Li Guo had already fled, but the central banner couldn't move that fast.