Chapter 299: Dueling the Generals

The opposing cavalry also began a light charge, while Bai Lang even controlled his steps to charge the cavalry—he wasn't afraid of those cavalrymen at all—and the troops behind him were also enveloped by the fervent battle passion, at least for now feeling no fear.

Bai Lang had no weapon in his hand, and the armor on his body had long been torn off; this guy now had disheveled hair and beard stained with blood, yet he looked like murderous aura soaring to the heavens. This Bai Lang, surnamed Bai, had a body of white flesh, skin as fine as white jade—really making one want to tattoo him just looking at him.

The sound of the cavalry trampling the earth was like thunder, dust on the ground shaken up; Bai Lang bent his body slightly—at this distance he could completely ignore the troops behind him and launch the first attack. Bai Lang merely stretched his form, and he had already plunged into the front cavalry.

"Fusiluoda!" accompanied by a thunderous roar, Bai Lang's innate true qi violently trembled; the White Tiger shaking the wind formed a terrifying gale that stirred the heart-lake, directly intimidating the surrounding cavalry with Bai Lang as the center. The range wasn't large, but it happened to almost envelop the entire cavalry charge formation.

Bai Lang just shouted casually; in fact his cries of "Wah!" and "Duwakyin!" were the same—the key was the resonance of the true qi bursting with the roar and the spiritual qi of heaven and earth, shaking the heart-lake of those within a certain range. Thus men and horses lost their souls; the warhorses near Bai Lang simply collapsed, lying on the ground unable to rise, only to lose control of bowels.

When the warhorses fell, the cavalrymen on top were in bad luck—some had broken arms, broken legs; the horses behind also suddenly braked hard or their front legs went soft, so the whole cavalry charge formation instantly rolled into a heap. After Bai Lang's roar, he also felt a sore throat: "Oh my, my throat's gone hoarse!"

Not only was his throat burning, but his true qi had also dropped by thirty percent, still recovering—though only a few breaths, innate true qi is endless anyway. With that roar, over a thousand cavalrymen all scattered aside; many were left with broken heads and bleeding, and some were trampled to death by horses.

Before Bai Lang even moved his hands, he had already caused over a hundred casualties, checking the cavalry's charge. Only then did he silently grin and launch his attack. He spread his palms, sweeping like a great blade and axe; as his arms wrapped around, blood light shot to the heavens. Outside his palms, his true qi was sharp as a blade, extending several six-foot lengths; wherever the true qi reached, skulls and limbs rolled.

Bai Lang swept through the cavalry like a chariot bristling with blade wheels; at that moment the troops behind him finally caught up, waving spears and great axes to harvest the lives of the wailing cavalry before them. After finishing this charge, Bai Lang unsurprisingly saw Li Mi's banner begin to retreat.

Li Mi's great army retreated back into the camp, preparing to defend the fort; Pei Renji, who was supposed to cut off Bai Lang's rear, had by now easily broken through Bai Lang's wagon formation—the auxiliary soldiers and drivers inside offered no resistance and surrendered outright. Bai Lang just laughed loudly: "It's time to learn from Xu Huang Xu Gongming and charge straight in! Follow me to break Li Mi's great formation!"

At this point the surviving cavalry had abandoned their horses and fled, even taking along their commander Cheng Yaojin, who was battered beyond recognition. Bai Lang's strike had already made the heroes lose heart; he now stepped over the corpses of men and horses to stand before the camp wall. "Bows and crossbows, qi-breaking arrows... and masters," Bai Lang laughed. At this moment his throat had recovered under innate true qi, but that technique probably couldn't be used again—the heavenly and earthly qi here still trembled; using it again might not work.

Bai Lang rushed straight to the gate, arms raised to shield his head and face, and slammed his head hard into it. Behind the gate, several thick beams snapped with a crack, revealing a fresh break, though not fully severed. Immediately soldiers brought large timbers to brace the gate firmly, while the troops on the side walls relentlessly showered Bai Lang with crossbow bolts.

These arrows shot up were just a white dot; Bai Lang truly proved his unrivaled horizontal training, the top name in being impervious to blades and spears. Meanwhile someone leapt into the air, holding a pitch-black great bow, opened like a full moon and shot an arrow. The arrow carried a wailing whistling sound, reaching Bai Lang's ear in the blink of an eye, as if it wanted to pierce his ear.

Bai Lang flashed his hand out, aiming at his left ear; Bai Lang's right hand extended, palm outward to block the arrow. The arrow struck his palm, yet a trace of blood remained. "I thought no mundane weapon could break my horizontal training, but now it seems I overestimated myself and underestimated the heroes of the world. By the way, my understanding of martial strength seems off—blame me, not others." Bai Lang flicked his hand, the iron-tipped arrow flung to the ground. He lifted his head to look at the man who had fallen onto the camp wall.

"Wasn't it you who shot me an arrow last time?" Bai Lang asked. "Indeed, apart from you, who else could have this arrow's power and technique? If anyone else wants to assassinate me, come out together!" Bai Lang said, his rolling voice spreading in all directions, "You want to bury me under a pile of soldiers? Hahaha, my horizontal training fears nothing more than that!"

On the wall appeared monks, female Taoists, and others—probably Li Mi among them—without many words they directly charged at Bai Lang. Bai Lang would never be persuaded by Wagang Fort; this needs no explanation, everyone understands—how could someone who can bring five hundred county troops and charge forward without hesitation possibly surrender like Pei Renji with just a few words due to circumstance?

Meanwhile Pei Renji was now burning some banners and such in Bai Lang's wagon formation, sending up thick smoke to sap Bai Lang's morale. As for this, White Jade Pillar merely glanced, gave a cold snort, then went forward to meet the masters coming over.

Swords, palms, fists, sleeves, even arrows—these techniques were either myriad variations, or had a deep and mighty aura, or resembled the drifting clouds beyond the sky in countless forms, or possessed the thunderous might of lightning; the spiritual qi between heaven and earth was stirred by these martial arts into an extremely sharp killing intent, enveloping Bai Lang.

Bai Lang's spirit rose high, like a tiger roaring to the heavens; he directly met those techniques—one palm blocking the wind and rain like a mountain of ten thousand ren, one fist like a severed Mount Tai, crushing outward as if the earth split and mountains collapsed. He tore apart wind, rain, thunder, and lightning, smashing those techniques to powder.

But it was merely a clash of qi; the opponents' techniques varied endlessly under the qi, mutually stimulating, so Bai Lang could not block all their attacks—this is the limit of this world; their combined strike might not be fully blocked even by a grand master. Only grand masters have a higher skill in pretense, their dodges and blocks bearing their own grace and style, unlike Bai Lang's hard-headed, hard-footed forced blocking.