Chapter 47

The rebel bandits had been stunned by the beating. They'd often been routed by government troops in years past, but nothing like this one-man, one-horse charge straight through their ranks, something that belonged in a stage play. Normally, even the bravest government soldier couldn't charge back and forth through a mass of cavalry, cutting his way in and out. Yet this government officer had broken through their lines of bows and spears all by himself, then killed several veteran cavalrymen in the blink of an eye. Most incredible of all, he'd blocked arrows fired at close range with one hand and come away without a scratch.

He had to be some kind of monster, impervious to blades and spears. Why wouldn't they run? Li Guo, like any peasant-army commander, was highly experienced at rallying scattered troops and rounding up civilians again. The Central Plains and the northwest had long been ravaged by these rebel bandits. Once they'd stolen the grain, weren't they forcing ordinary people to join their ranks? Chuang Wang didn't collect taxes? He certainly didn't need to—the peasant army simply stole everything.

These men were used to fleeing, and immediately split up to escape. As for the civilians they'd rounded up? They didn't care. If they were left behind, so be it. They could always raid somewhere else and gather another large crowd. Besides, if they left the civilians for the government troops, a civil official would be stuck figuring out how to resettle them. At least they'd eat up the government's grain. Bai Lang urged his horse forward. The people in front of him had their backs turned; all he had to do was swing his blade.

"They're all small fry. The real bandits sure ran fast!" Bai Lang's warhorse was carrying a heavy load and couldn't run very fast, so he could hardly catch the bandits who were throwing away their valuables just to get away. Perhaps they even thought the government troops would fall into chaos while picking up the loot, giving them a chance to turn back and attack. The Ming Army following behind him behaved exactly as Bai Lang had expected: they fell into a disorderly scramble for the valuables on the ground, busy cutting off heads, and had completely lost formation.

If the bandits across from them counterattacked, the government troops would be finished. But they couldn't, because Bai Lang had already cut down their central banner. Anyone who tried to rally the troops for a counterattack had already lost his head, which now hung beside Bai Lang's saddle. In a small-scale charge like this, Bai Lang had no equal. The cavalry had once gathered dozens of riders and tried to use the opportunity to kick back against the government troops, but Bai Lang had charged straight at them. He showed them what it meant to be impervious to blades and spears.

He really was impervious. Neither side's horses had room to build up speed; they could only trot forward. Their spears and lances couldn't pierce Bai Lang's Thirteen Great Protectors' Adamantine Bell Shield, and probably couldn't penetrate his mountain-pattern armor either. Even if they got through the mountain-pattern armor, his chain mail would stop them—and that was nothing compared to the Bell Shield, which was like a suit of plate armor, only exceptionally resilient.

Once Bai Lang realized this, he simply let loose and slaughtered them, barely bothering to defend himself. In the blink of an eye, he routed dozens of riders in front of him and killed half of them. The civilians they'd rounded up couldn't run away. They were malnourished, had no idea where to flee, and, most importantly, still had some awe for the government troops. Surely an army of several thousand wouldn't chop all of them down and claim the reward? In truth, the troops didn't dare. Even if the Ming soldiers wanted to, Governor Deng wouldn't.

But there was nothing else to be done with these people. Governor Deng could only send orders to the prefectures and counties, telling them to care for the refugees. "They are all children of Great Ming. We cannot abandon them to the bandits again." For days after the battle, he couldn't take a single step, busy with all the arrangements that had to be made. Bai Lang didn't care about the aftermath. As a martial man, he only needed to charge into the enemy ranks. He didn't even command troops or devise formations; he was a duelist, not a general. After cutting off so many heads, Bai Lang still wasn't promoted. Bandit heads weren't worth much, at least not enough for a promotion. Bai Lang didn't want money.

"My understanding of the blade has improved quite a bit. I'm getting used to the nature of a long-handled saber. It seems martial skill ultimately advances through killing." Bai Lang practiced in his courtyard as he reflected on what he'd gained. His martial arts had grown ever more polished, and the murderous aura radiating from his Tiger Form True Intent had become increasingly fierce. Anyone looking at him now would surely think he was a man-eating tiger.

The strength of his tiger claws and the force that burst from his bones had grown even more fearsome. When he moved, he now carried a presence that could shake his opponent—like a tiger pouncing on its prey. An ordinary foe would probably go blank with terror and be easily torn apart. His Golden Bell Shield had also made considerable progress. In the charge, he'd taken spears, saber strikes, and arrows. His armor had softened the blows, so he hadn't been able to take them cleanly, but he'd still advanced.

His inner strength had grown deep and responsive, with no more sense of obstruction as it flowed. The fourth level of the Golden Bell Shield no longer seemed distant; it was already on the horizon. "Still can't unleash the Void Splitting Palm force you read about in novels," Bai Lang muttered. By now, he'd followed Governor Deng to meet Governor Sun. The two governors had brought their respective troops together, but by unwritten custom, they'd soon part ways again. After all, they were both governors; they couldn't keep camping together.

Their subordinates met as well. The generals under Governor Sun had heard of Bai Lang's prowess: he'd killed hundreds of Eastern Tartars and, not long ago, had routed Li Guo's forces, which were known among the bandits for their cunning and fighting ability. So they came to meet Bai Lang, inviting him to a banquet while also seeing whether the stories were all bluster. Then every one of them was frightened. Bai Lang's martial arts hadn't yet reached the stage of supreme mastery and returning to simplicity. His murderous aura showed plainly. Though his expression was calm, the men saw what seemed to be a great tiger silently approaching them.

Then came the demonstration. Bai Lang ripped chain mail apart with his bare hands and knocked down a wall with one punch, leaving the watching officers of the martial ranks stunned. But he went on to demonstrate his Thirteen Great Protectors' Adamantine Bell Shield. He bared his upper body and let a soldier hack at him with a saber and axe, stab him with a spear, and shoot him with arrows. Not one of them could even break his skin. One of the skeptical officers tried it himself, confirming that Bai Lang truly was "impervious to blades and spears." Governor Sun and Governor Deng saw it too and were amazed. Everyone asked Bai Lang what this was; quite a few thought it was some sort of divine talisman.

"The Thirteen Great Protectors' Adamantine Bell Shield!" Bai Lang answered their questions quite warmly. "I trained hard from childhood, and finally achieved something." He was lying about that. A scholar beside Governor Sun smiled. "Young hero, you have excellent inner strength." The voice seemed to sound only in Bai Lang's ear. Bai Lang glanced at the scholar and saw a mild, refined face, bright eyes, a long willow-leaf beard, and a sword at his waist.