The Oirat Grand Preceptor, Yesen, sat astride his horse at the front of the formation, brimming with confidence.
The moment he received Arutai's plea for help, he had led an army of a hundred thousand straight to the rescue without stopping.
In his eyes, this was the perfect chance, granted to him by Eternal Heaven, to wipe out the main force of the Ming army in one fell swoop.
A Commander of Ten Thousand pointed at the scattered tents in the distant valley and said excitedly, "Grand Preceptor! The remnants of the Ming army are right up ahead!"
"There are no more than twenty thousand of them. They're all like eggplants hit by frost—pathetic and no match for us!"
"That good-for-nothing Arutai couldn't even deal with twenty thousand men. He actually had to ask me for help."
Yesen gave a disdainful snort, his eyes full of contempt.
"Grand Preceptor, look! What's that?"
Following the direction his guard pointed, Yesen narrowed his eyes.
He saw a Black Army appear at the front of the Ming remnants.
There weren't many of them, perhaps three thousand.
They stood in a strange formation. They didn't look ready to charge or defend. They simply waited in silence on the Snowfield, as if expecting something.
"Black armor? What kind of Ming unit is that? I've never seen it before."
Yesen furrowed his brow, a flicker of doubt passing through his mind.
But that doubt was quickly replaced by the confidence that came with their overwhelming numerical advantage.
"Who cares what kind of unit they are! Three thousand men dare to stand in the way of my hundred thousand? It's like a mantis trying to stop a chariot!"
Yesen drew the golden saber at his waist, pointed it forward, and gave the order for a full assault.
"Pass on my command! The whole army, charge! The first to reach the Ming camp will receive a hundred head of cattle and sheep, and ten women!"
"Ho! Ho! Ho!"
The hundred thousand Oirat cavalry let out a deafening cheer.
Like a gray tide, they swept in from all directions toward the small Black Army and the remnants of the Ming forces behind them.
The earth trembled. The thunder of hooves surged like a tidal wave, as if it would overturn the sky itself.
From the heights above the valley, Zhang Fu and the others watched the end-of-the-world scene unfold, their faces deathly pale.
"It's over... This time, it's really over..."
Zhu Yong shut his eyes in despair.
Even Zhu Di, who had only just begun to feel hopeful, felt his heart tighten. His palms were slick with sweat.
He had said he wanted to see it with his own eyes, but against a mass charge by an army of a hundred thousand, every scheme and every trick seemed utterly powerless.
Only Zhu Zhanjun remained calm.
He even had time to glance back and wink at Zhu Di.
"Grandfather, watch closely."
"The moment you witness a miracle has arrived."
With that, he turned his horse to face the gray tide that seemed capable of destroying heaven and earth, then slowly raised the Horse Spear in his hand.
"All troops, listen up!"
"Shenbi Crossbows! Three-stage volley! Prepare!"
The three thousand Great Snow Dragon Riders swiftly divided into three rows.
The soldiers in the first row crouched low, firmly planting the supports of their Shenbi Crossbows in the snow, their weapons angled slightly upward.
The soldiers in the second and third rows stood behind them, aiming their crossbows straight ahead.
A three-dimensional, utterly airtight web of firepower took shape in an instant.
"Range, five hundred paces!"
"Four hundred paces!"
"Three hundred paces!"
The scout's voice rang out repeatedly through the formation.
The Oirat cavalry drew closer and closer. They could even make out the savage grins and greedy looks on their enemies' faces.
"Fire!"
The instant the leading Oirat cavalry entered a range of two hundred paces, Zhu Zhanjun's Horse Spear came crashing down!
"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!"
There was no earth-shattering boom, only a dense whistle that seemed to rip through the air!
The first row unleashed a thousand Armor-piercing Heavy Arrows. They traced arcs of death through the sky and struck the heart of the Oirat charge with deadly precision.
"Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!"
The sound of arrows sinking into flesh.
The Oirat cavalry, charging at full speed, were thrown from their horses and crashed to the ground in a vast swath.
Their leather armor was as fragile as paper against these specially made Armor-piercing Heavy Arrows.
Before they could even react, the second row fired straight ahead!
A thousand crossbow bolts formed a horizontal line of death and swept across the field.
The charging Oirat cavalry fell in swathes, like wheat cut down by an invisible scythe.
Blood and severed limbs spread across the snow, painting a merciless scene.
"Fire!"
The third row's bolts followed close on the heels of the second.
Another thousand lives were harvested in an instant.
By the time the third row finished firing, the soldiers in the first row had already reloaded and fired at least twice.
A perfect, unbroken cycle of fire!
A barrage forged from steel and death appeared before the Oirat army, an impassable wall.
The smile on Yesen's face froze completely.
What was he seeing?
His warriors were falling in droves more than a hundred paces from the enemy, unable even to touch the hem of their clothes.
The Black Army wasn't retreating. It was advancing. Even as it unleashed a saturated barrage, it was slowly pressing forward!
They walked and fired, and with every step they took, the wall of fire advanced another step.
The Oirat cavalry caught beneath that barrage went completely mad.
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