Chapter 524: Fierce Battle (Part 2)

"Night Scouts of the Border Garrison Army?"

Among the scouts of the Plain Yellow Banner, a middle-aged man with a somber expression narrowed his eyes. This man had the typical Manchu appearance: a large round face, small eyes, two thin whiskers like a rat's, and skin on his face that was dark, red, and rough. He was dressed in the manner of a Gebu Xixian soldier, but the otter tail atop his helmet and the black tassel hanging from the helmet tube indicated that his status was far from ordinary.

Yet he seemed extremely low-key, silently hiding behind the mass of scout riders, especially behind those Bayara and Gebu Xixian soldiers. Even Xie Yike and the others opposite, armed with spyglasses, could not help but overlook this man's presence.

Though low-key and inconspicuous, this somber Manchu man's identity was far from simple. He was Dasu, the Janggin of the Gabu Xixian, of the Qing state's Zhangjia clan, born under the Manchu Bordered Yellow Banner.

As early as the fifth year of Tiancong, Dasu, then serving as Bayara Zhuangda, together with Aobai, also a Bayara Zhuangda, led twenty-four armored soldiers to garrison Camel Mountain. Four hundred Ming soldiers raided the camp at night; Dasu and the others counterattacked, beheading over two hundred, capturing sixteen horses, and was later promoted to Bayara Jalan Janggin.

During the Battle of Jinzhou, in February of this very year, nearly a hundred Ming soldiers occupied a ridge outside Jinzhou, deploying firearms to hold their defense. Dasu led six riders charging up and beheaded them all. In May, he was promoted to Gabu Xixian Janggin.

Huang Taiji established the Gebu Xixian Ha camp, within which there were only the ranks of Galai Amban, Janggin, Guards, Zhuangda, and Armored Soldiers. That Dasu attained the post of Janggin speaks volumes of his extraordinary experience and ability.

Suddenly realizing that the opposing side was still the Border Garrison Army's scout riders, Dasu felt a shudder run through his heart, followed by a surge of incomparable excitement and desire.

In the current Qing state, military merit for killing Border Garrison Army soldiers was the most richly rewarded. For every head taken, the reward was at least one hundred taels of silver. Killing squad leaders, unit officers, and the like was rewarded with fields, houses, and bondservants. Killing officers such as Squad Commanders could earn at least half a promotion.

However, Border Garrison Army heads were extremely hard to come by. A few days prior, a Bayara from a Bordered Red Banner scout unit inadvertently spotted the reflection of a Border Garrison Army scout's spyglass on Shamao Mountain. After a round of encirclement and attack, they took two heads, causing a sensation throughout the Qing camp.

These Bayara were all personally received by Huang Taiji. The leader among them was even granted the title of Baturu.

This also spurred every Qing soldier's desire for military merit and heads, and Dasu was equally fervent.

It was rare to see an entire unit of Border Garrison Army Night Scouts appearing together. Dasu guessed that among this group, there must be their unit officers, Squad Commanders, and other high-ranking officers. If he could kill them...

In that instant, Dasu made his decision. Seeing hesitation and fear among the others, he immediately roared: "What does the Border Garrison Army count for? When have we, the warriors of Great Qing, ever feared these southern barbarians? All of you, prepare to engage!"

The moment he straightened his back, an aura of authority immediately emerged, his previous dejected demeanor vanishing completely. Everyone was jolted. These scouts of the Plain Yellow Banner were, after all, battle-hardened elites. Recalling the lavish rewards for killing Border Garrison Army soldiers, they immediately roared and shouted, each preparing for battle.

Dasu further commanded loudly: "Their hand cannons are formidable, and they are equipped with fine armor. Do not use bows and arrows. When engaging, all of you use throwing axes, javelins, iron bone-duos..."

Immediately, everyone acted according to his words.

These Qing riders each had iron bone-duos, throwing axes, spinning blades, and other sharp weapons hanging from their saddles. Some even had javelin holsters hanging from their saddles. Many Qing soldiers practiced throwing from horseback. In terms of technical proficiency, the Bayara were the best, not to mention the Gebu Xixian soldiers.

With the rumbling of hooves, Xie Yike and his men roared as they charged toward those Tartar scouts.

They had seized the initiative. When they launched their attack, the opposing side was only just beginning to engage, their formation not yet clearly deployed, still a chaotic mass.

Xie Yike's eyes lit up, and he immediately shouted: "Flank them on both wings, wild goose formation! Fire your hand cannons from thirty paces out!"

The Border Garrison Army Night Scouts were all elite warriors. Upon Xie Yike's command, each man instantly changed formation, splitting into two groups—sixteen on one side, seventeen on the other—sweeping toward the flanks of those Plain Yellow Banner Tartars.

At the same time, they laid their lances and other polearms across the front of their horses, switching their hand cannons from their left hands to their right hands for firing.

The accuracy of firing with the right hand was naturally higher than with the left; after all, left-handed people were rare. Moreover, firing from a distance on the flanks meant they did not have to worry about immediately engaging in close-quarters melee, so they could hold their weapons in their left hands or lay them across the front of their horses.

And while the Border Garrison Army's hand cannons could penetrate armor at twenty to thirty paces, that was under conditions of stationary aiming. On such a jolting horseback, with both sides' warhorses sweeping past at high speed, the accuracy inevitably suffered somewhat, and the hit rate was not very high.

To hit an enemy, one had to close to within twenty paces, even a dozen or so paces, or have both sides charging head-on to increase the probability. However, Xie Yike still decided to fire from thirty paces out. Although this meant slightly poorer accuracy and not hitting many enemies, the advantage lay in safety.

The enemy's javelins, iron bone-duos, and other throwing weapons were generally thrown at a distance of twenty paces, even a dozen or so paces, or just a few paces. Thirty paces, equivalent to about forty-five meters in later times, was a distance difficult for them to reach, and on highly mobile horses, their accuracy was equally very poor.

Xie Yike would rather stay far away, accepting poor accuracy, to ensure the safety of his brothers. Moreover, at this distance, although their own weapons had poor accuracy, if they happened to hit an opponent, it would be enough to prove fatal.

This was unlike weapons such as bows and javelins, which had problems like losing momentum and being unable to pierce even thin silk. Firearm weapons had extremely ample power, and even beyond effective line-of-sight range, they still possessed formidable lethality.

It was like the rifles of later ages, which were rarely fired from several hundred meters away, but that did not mean being hit by a rifle bullet from several hundred meters away would leave one safe and sound.

With the Border Garrison Army's hand cannons, even if the accuracy was low when firing from thirty paces out, being accidentally hit was like being struck heavily by a giant iron sledgehammer; if not dead, one would be severely wounded.

Xie Yike made this decision in an instant.

Those Plain Yellow Banner Qing soldiers also spurred their horses and charged forward at this moment. Their combat followed the Qing army's usual tactics: thirty men in light armor, wielding bows and arrows, flanking; twenty men in heavy armor, holding lances and polearms, pressing the formation for a shock assault—except now the bows and arrows were replaced with throwing axes and iron bone-duos.

The armored riders could be seen roaring as they moved to flank, while the Bayara and Gebu Xixian elite riders spurred their horses behind them, each producing heavy throwing axes, javelins, and the like in their hands, their sharp gazes fixed intently on the charging Ming army scout riders opposite.

However, they were a step behind and had lost the initiative. By the time they wanted to flank, it was already too late.

Iron hooves thundered as Xie Yike and his men swiftly swept toward them from both wings.

At this moment, Jie Yifeng spurred his horse ahead of Xie Yike. The first target always drew the enemy's focus; how could Bench let his admired Master Xie be in the most dangerous position?

He likewise held a hand cannon in his grip. Since they were not yet in close-quarters combat, his giant iron sledgehammer naturally had no use. Although he was not fond of using hand cannons and firearms, that did not mean he was not good with them. In fact, Jie Yifeng was also one of the best hand cannon users in the Sharp Scout Camp.

Iron hooves pounded heavily on the ground. Amid the dust and smoke, both sides charged past each other with battle cries in the blink of an eye.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The reports of hand cannons rang out. Plumes of white smoke rose.

Men shouted, horses neighed.

Jie Yifeng fired a shot, hitting the horse of a Tartar armored rider. The sturdy horse let out a mournful neigh, its front hooves leaping into the air, immediately throwing the Tartar from its back into the dust, leaving it unknown whether he was dead or alive.

Jie Yifeng instantly let his hand cannon drop. Without even looking, his right hand swept across and another hand cannon from the leather holster on the saddle bridge appeared in his grip.

A fierce black shadow came hurtling through the air with a whooshing sound. Jie Yifeng tilted his head aside—it was a throwing axe, flying past his temple.

The horse beneath him galloped furiously, Jie Yifeng's stout, square-set body heaving unsteadily.

At the very moment his horse reached the highest point of its stride, the most stable instant, Jie Yifeng raised his hand, and with a bang, pulled the trigger again.

A burst of flame erupted, the spark from the flint striking. It ignited the priming powder in the flash pan of Jie Yifeng's hand cannon, and simultaneously, the priming powder in the pan ignited the gunpowder within the barrel. Amid a thunderous roar, fierce smoke and fire belched from the muzzle.

Over thirty paces to the right, a Gebu Xixian soldier wearing three layers of armor could be seen with blood spilling from his mouth and nose. A large hole had appeared in his chest. Fresh blood streamed out profusely. First, he looked stunned, then an expression of pain and resentment appeared on his face as he unwillingly tumbled off his horse.

This Tartar was indeed unwilling. He had campaigned for many years, rising from foot soldier to armored rider, to Bayara, and finally being selected into the Gebu Xixian Ha camp. He had experienced a hundred battles, braving life and death, yet never imagined that in the end, it would be a cheap, inconspicuous little pellet that claimed his life.

Although the penetrating power of the pellets at this time was weak, their kinetic force was considerable, especially those from the Border Garrison Army's hand cannons.

When this Gebu Xixian soldier was hit, it was instantly as if he had been struck heavily by Jie Yifeng's giant iron sledgehammer.

The tremendous force transmitted into his body instantly caused him severe internal injuries; blood surged from his mouth and nose. Coupled with the heavy fall from his horse, unless his great Shaman deity descended immediately, this Tartar was certain to die.

And to hit this Tartar head-on from such a distance showed that Bench's marksmanship was extraordinary.

The reports of hand cannons rang out as both sides swept past each other. From time to time, one Tartar after another screamed and fell from his horse, or the horse beneath him was hit and neighed in agony.

Along with the sound of the hand cannons came a wave of short axes, iron bone-duos, javelins, and other objects hurled by the Qing soldiers, striking some of the Night Scouts and their horses on both wings.

Although the hand cannons were fired from violently jolting horseback at fast-moving targets and the distance was somewhat far, after this round, the exchange ratio between the two sides was still markedly different.

Among the Night Scouts, only on Xie Yike's side did one warrior's horse get hit by a javelin, throwing him off. After this warrior fell from his horse, he felt as if his internal organs had shifted. But he dared not delay, immediately rolling to the right, narrowly avoiding being trampled into meat paste by the hooves of the friendly troops coming up from behind.

Although the Night Scouts and the others had left their remaining horses with Daya and the others when they charged, because they were in a wild-goose formation, one horse following another with only a slight diagonal offset between front and rear, even if friendly troops coming up behind urgently spurred their horses to avoid them, there was still the danger of crashing into fallen riders.

Fortunately he dodged, but as soon as he got up, a mouthful of fresh blood sprayed out uncontrollably — he had already suffered internal injuries.

Yet in this perilous place, this Night Scout dared not slack off. Enduring the pain of his wounds, he urgently dashed to the side of his horse, which was struggling on the verge of death, took out his hand cannon, and after cautiously scanning his surroundings, finally retrieved some wound medicine from the horse's pack.

On the wing where Ma Ziren was, another soldier's horse had likewise been struck in the head by a flying axe thrown by a Tartar.

In agony, the horse reared and bucked wildly. Unable to control it, the Night Scout had no choice but to dismount urgently. Another soldier further back had terrible luck — just as he pulled the trigger, an iron mace struck him hard in the chest, shattering his breastbone completely, and he fell from his horse vomiting blood.

He had been shot by a Tartar Gebu Xixian soldier.

But on the whole, at such a long distance, most of the short axes, iron maces, javelins, and other objects hurled by the Qing cavalry failed to reach the front of the Night Scouts' horses, or were thrown inaccurately.

The three Night Scouts who were wounded or unhorsed were all caused by the Bayara or Gebu Xixian soldiers charging from the rear.

In this wave of charges, Xie Yike and the others had inflicted eighteen casualties, both men and horses, on those Plain Yellow Banner Tartars.

Most of them were the Tartars themselves, and at least thirty percent were Bayara and Gebu Xixian soldiers.

Achieving such results was due, first, to Xie Yike and the others catching the Tartars off guard, and second, to the great distance, which caused the enemy's weapons to lose most of their power.

When javelins, iron maces, and such were hurled over, they could be seen with the naked eye, and with quick reflexes, one could largely dodge them. The speed of throwing weapons from horseback was also somewhat slower to initiate. With the distance between the two sides so great at that moment, the accuracy and force of the Tartars' throws were poor.

As for the Night Scouts' hand cannons, their firing speed went without saying, and since the bullets were invisible once fired, they were relatively hard to dodge. Sweeping in from both wings also counted as flanking fire, which somewhat increased the hit rate.

Thirdly, it was because those with quick hands and sharp eyes managed to fire a second shot.

In this brief distance of crossing each other, if one's reaction was fast enough, it was perhaps possible to fire two shots, as Xie Yike and Jie Yifeng and the others did.

Xie Yike fired two shots. One missed, but the other struck a Bayara. On the other wing, Ma Ziren also fired two shots, though both of his only hit the Tartars' horses. In addition, several other Night Scouts also fired two shots.

Some Night Scouts with slightly slower reactions, on galloping warhorses, only had time to fire one shot before all personnel on both sides had completely passed each other.

Unlike the wounded on the Jingbian Army's side, those Tartars who were shot and fell from their horses — even if they did not die immediately, they were guaranteed to die in the days to come, and they would die in unbearable agony.

…

But the Tartars' misfortune did not end there. After charging past the Ming troops, the direction they galloped toward was precisely the area where Daya, Erya, Xizi, and the other five Night Scouts had been left to guard.

Their many horses were formed into a circle. Daya and the others hid quietly inside, so that from the outside, it seemed as if no one was within.

Unexpectedly, the few of them had long since taken up their Lumi muskets, propped them on their saddles, and were steadily aiming at those charging Tartar soldiers.

The brothers Daya and Erya both had delicate, handsome features, and Xizi had an even more effeminate air about him. But anyone who underestimated them would pay a price in blood.

Effeminate though Xizi was, he was ruthless and cold-blooded, killing without blinking an eye. He came from an opera troupe background and often played the role of a huadan — those young, lively, pretty, and clever maidservants or servant girls, like Hongniang in *The Romance of the Western Chamber*, or Sun Yujiao in *Picking Up the Jade Bracelet*.

In the Great Ming, male homosexuality was prevalent. A local strongman took a fancy to Xizi's "beauty" and harbored sinister intentions. The troupe master also acted as a go-between, using both coercion and persuasion.

In a fit of rage, Xizi killed both the troupe master and the strongman. After much wandering, he arrived at the Eastern Route. By a twist of fate, he later joined what was then the Shunxiang Army. Over the years, following Benchang, he had rendered considerable merit and was an exceptionally fine marksman.

As those Tartars charged over and entered within a hundred paces, and then drew even closer, Xizi aimed at a Tartar from the vanguard battalion and decisively pulled the trigger.

Crack!

Amid the crisp sound, flames spurted from the heavy, long-barreled Lumi musket in his hands, and that Gebu Xixian soldier tumbled rigidly from his horse.

At the same time, the Daya brothers each took aim at a Bayara. Without the slightest mercy, amid the cracking sounds, two figures ahead swayed and toppled sideways just the same.

The three swiftly shrank back behind the horses and exchanged glances, each seeing the word "beautiful" in the other's eyes. Their expressions were relaxed, but their hands were far from idle, each expertly taking out a pre-measured paper cartridge and reloading once more.

The remaining two Night Scouts, also showing expressions of delight, held hand cannons and stood guard as protection for Daya and the others.

But among those Plain Yellow Banner scout riders, everyone erupted in howls as if a pot had exploded: "Musketeers! There are long-musket musketeers from the Jingbian Army!"

In a clatter, they urgently pulled their horses away, keeping far from this area.

When these Tartars had charged and swept over, seeing so many Jingbian Army horses left in this spot, they had still harbored thoughts of seizing supplies and baggage. Now those thoughts were completely gone.

From the direction of the large cluster of horses, after several musket shots, silence returned once more. But in the hearts of the Plain Yellow Banner Tartars, that place had become a strange and fearful land, as if countless ambush soldiers were hidden among those horses.

…

Dasu was furious beyond measure. He looked at the men and horses around him — a great many were already gone, and the faces of those who remained were filled with alarm. In this brief engagement, their own side had suffered over twenty casualties, with losses reaching nearly thirty percent, while the enemy's casualties were negligible.

Of the five Gebu Xixian warriors scouting with him, three had died in battle, and five Bayara had been killed or wounded. As for the remaining armored troopers, which of them was not an elite?

Since he had joined the army, he had never suffered such a great setback. In past battles, when he led his subordinates, had they not always defeated ten times their number? Only this time were the casualties huge and the results meager. Even he himself had done no more than strike one Jingbian Army Night Scout with an iron mace.

He gnashed his teeth in hatred — those detestable Jingbian troops, and even more detestable firearms.

Yet unlike him, the remaining Plain Yellow Banner scout riders beside him were all anxious. These Jingbian troops were truly tough bones, far too hard to chew. Although the military merit for slaying them was substantial, one still had to consider whether one had the life to enjoy it, no?

Even those fierce Plain Yellow Banner Bayara likewise showed expressions of hesitation and fury. Those vile Ming scout riders bombarded them with hand cannons from afar. They could only bring a mere tenth of their full ability to bear — it was truly too stifling. But if they kept fighting…

"What do we do? Do we fight again?"

The remaining scout riders all stared fixedly at Dasu, awaiting his decision.

At this moment, Dasu was the commanding officer. Under the current strict Qing military law, without the commander's permission, if they hesitated or fled, Dasu had the authority to execute them on the spot. Yet now their numbers were fewer than forty — they no longer held the advantage. If they kept fighting, victory or defeat would be hard to predict.

Dasu gazed toward Xie Yike's position over a hundred paces away, watching as they had already regrouped and were likewise pointing and gesturing in this direction.

He fumed inwardly: "Detestable Nikan, firing their muskets from far away, not daring to fight face-to-face — truly as timid as mice. Hateful! Despicable!"

After a moment's hesitation, ultimately unwilling to accept this in his heart, he said: "We came out to scout. Although we have gathered some intelligence on Daxing Fort and Dongqing Fort, with losses so great now, if we do not return with some Jingbian Army heads, it will be difficult to explain ourselves to Turai, the Banner Commander."

He studied Xie Yike's side carefully: "We don't need many. As long as we can take even one Jingbian Army head, we can say we encountered a large force of Jingbian Army scout riders. That way, not only would we be blameless, we would even be credited with merit."

He said: "Earlier, those Nikan seized the initiative. If we fight again, we must somehow tie down those barbarians and not let them outflank us. In face-to-face combat, I do not believe these barbarians are a match for us warriors of the Great Qing!"

Roused by him, these Qing cavalrymen, seething with pent-up fury, all roared and howled strangely. Their ferocious savagery was stirred, and each let out beast-like shrieks.

…

Ma Ziren led the soldiers of the right wing and converged beside Xie Yike. Xie Yike counted — their own side had gone into battle with thirty-three men in total, and now three were missing.

He looked over a hundred paces to the right of the field. Duan Chengjiu, a Night Scout who had fallen from his horse but was uninjured, was supporting two wounded comrades as they headed toward Daya and the others.

From the horse circle, two men had already rushed out to urgently receive them. As if worried that the Ming troops would seize the chance to attack, no one from the Qing side came out to stop them. Some unhorsed Qing soldiers who could still move likewise struggled to their feet and ran toward their main force, and the Ming side likewise paid them no heed.

The outcome of this battle still satisfied Xie Yike. He nodded and said: "Brothers, you fought well just now!"

This was something he had learned from his brother-in-law Wang Dou — after a battle ended, one must always offer praise, as this could boost morale.

Sure enough, delighted expressions appeared on the faces of all the Night Scouts. Everyone laughed heartily, each man's morale soaring. The battle just now had truly been fought splendidly, fought brilliantly.

A heavy iron hammer twirled deftly in Jie Yifeng's hand as if it weighed nothing at all. Steady on his horse, he watched the Plain Yellow Banner Tartars over there and said in a gruff voice: "Master Xie, those Tartars still don't seem ready to give up."

Ma Ziren said in a deep voice, "Don't worry. We'll pull the same trick again — it will surely send those Tatars fleeing in defeat."

Xie Yike shook his head. "That was catching the Tatars off guard just now. It won't be that easy this time. They'll definitely charge in and force a tangled fight."

Everyone looked toward the Tatar side. The coming battle was indeed very likely to unfold that way.

Xie Yike gritted his teeth and said fiercely, "When we go out to fight, we'll form three ranks. The first two ranks staggered, hand cannon in the left hand, blade in the right. The rear rank won't carry cannons — they'll only fire at close range once the melee starts. Old Xie here, as Company Commander, will naturally stand in the first rank."

He said, "Listen clearly, all of you. First and second ranks — no one opens fire until we're within twenty-five paces. And no one is to hold the cannon in the right hand. Violators will be dealt with by military law."

Unlike firing from the flank at a distance, in a head-on charge like this, opening fire at twenty or thirty paces means contact and hand-to-hand combat could come within one or two seconds — so there's only one shot. And if you hold the cannon in your right hand, when switching weapons you'll inevitably be slow to ready your blade, and your strength won't be up.

That one point alone could mean your own man goes down when the weapons clash.

Of course, the Qing troops have the same problem. If they dare throw javelins or flying axes with their right hand, they might just release it, switch their weapon to the right hand — and the enemy's lance or cavalry spear will already be thrust home.

And mounted combat is far more brutal than foot combat. It demands sharp anticipation, and anticipation needs to be brewed.

The brewing distance needs at least ten paces — to spot the opponent's weak point before you can clash and pass through.

To just take a weapon into the right hand and try to block the opponent's long-planned thunderbolt strike — very few can manage it. Nine times out of ten, you'll be impaled by the enemy's long lance or cavalry spear.

So the Tatar soldiers in the front rank can only throw javelins or iron maces with their left hand — which inevitably costs a bit of accuracy, and even more so, power.

On this point, the hand cannon actually has the advantage. Of course, the Tatars in the rear ranks can throw with their right hand, but at a greater distance, accuracy and power are likewise poorer.

Moreover, to improve accuracy, Qing troops' thrown weapons are generally released only within twenty paces, even within ten. Xie Yike's order to open fire with hand cannons at twenty-five paces gives them a few extra paces of advantage — though the accuracy is still far from ideal.

Now the advantage had shifted to their side. But in a head-on charge and clash, casualties are unavoidable. All the night scouts clenched their jaws — not one man showed fear or shrank back.

As long as they were human, everyone feared death and injury. But they had all kinds of reasons that could suppress that fear.

Xie Yike gave his orders, and everyone answered in unison, preparing to fight again.

Jie Yifeng swung his iron hammer a few times in his hand, then looked at Xie Yike and said solemnly, "Master Xie, I think you should move to the third rank. Our Jingbian Army is no ordinary Ming force — we don't have a rule that officers must personally lead the charge at the front."

The night scouts all nodded in agreement. "That's right. Where's the sense in a superior officer personally leading the charge into the enemy formation? Our Jingbian Army doesn't go in for that sort of thing."

"Master Xie ought to learn from the Grand General — he never lightly ventures into danger. That way, when we fight, we can set our minds at ease too."

Ma Ziren glanced at Xie Yike. Although Xie Yike's status was extraordinary, ever since the ninth year of Chongzhen, he had fought shoulder to shoulder with Xie Yike, going out together on reconnaissance. Over the years, he truly regarded the man as his own younger brother.

He said in a deep voice, "The first rank will be under my command. Master Xie, go to the third rank."

While everyone was talking all at once, they crowded Xie Yike to the rear.

Feeling the care of his brothers, their earnest eyes one after another, Xie Yike was moved in his heart, deeply feeling that returning to the Sharp Scout Camp had been the right choice.

Everyone knew the first rank was the most dangerous — and these brothers were leaving the safe place for him.

Though moved, his nature had always been carefree, and he was very poor at expressing his feelings. He just huffed and cursed, "These damn brats, daring to shove Old Xie aside — sheer insubordination toward a superior officer!"

On the open wilderness, the Ming scout cavalry and the Qing scout cavalry once again wheeled their horses and charged at each other.

They all stared at each other with ferocious expressions. They were the most elite warriors of this age. They all had the resolve to fight to the death without retreat, able to bury their inner fear deep down. Their martial skills were also the most outstanding of this age.

Without prior agreement, both sides fought in line formation.

Those Qing soldiers had likewise formed three ranks, each of over ten men. The armored cavalry elite were in the front; the remaining Bayara and Gebu Shixian soldiers were in the last rank.

Daisu gripped his tiger-spear, his expression dark as he watched the Ming troops opposite. Since joining the army, he had never been defeated. He did not believe he would return with blunted blade at the hands of the army facing him.

Xie Yike held his cavalry spear, his two rakishly charming mustache tips twitching now and then. His expression was confident. The Shunxiang Army, the Jingbian Army — since their founding, they had never been defeated. Wherever their banners pointed, the rabble scattered like ash and smoke. Today would be the same.

Suddenly, both sides roared and spurred their horses, raising their weapons. One side bellowed, "Kill all the Tatars!"

The other side bellowed, "Kill all the Nikans!"

Iron hooves rumbled. Two iron torrents churned up great billows of dust, crashing headlong toward each other.

The two sides were not far apart. Very soon, they would collide together. To be continued...