Chapter 41: The Lone Warrior

A Purple Gold Halberd as thick as a duck egg was carelessly swung down, smashing the head of the leading Qing warrior into fragments and even crushing down to his navel, rendering his heavy armor and helmet useless. In the next instant, Bai Lang's right‑handed Purple Gold Halberd swept across, and several Qing soldiers who were charging up the city wall were struck at the chest, folded together like a stack, each using their arms and chests as pivot points and folding back on themselves.

Fresh blood sprayed everywhere. "Sorry for wasting a head; you lot go and hack some more," Bai Lang said to the soldiers, "Someone else go kill a few more."

Outside the city, slave chieftain Abatai rode on horseback with several Jurchen cavalry to watch the battle, "The city falls." Watching the Qing troops seize the wall, the Jurchen officers were neither surprised nor particularly joyful— they had seen this many times; a Ming city that stubbornly defends, once the Qing forces reach the wall, the fall of the gates is only a matter of time, the only question is whether it takes a incense stick's length of time or a bit longer. At the same time, news came that Qing troops attacking other gates were also succeeding, almost all scaling the walls in a single drumbeat, so the city's breach would be over in the blink of an eye.

However, the forces that had taken the wall were suddenly halted, and instead Ming troops appeared on the wall, shooting arrows and hurling stones downward. Abatai let out a puzzled "Hmm?" but was not surprised; it was simply that a Ming warrior or a general's retainer had counter‑attacked, and another wave would easily crush them—nothing unusual.

The Qing soldiers below regrouped and used strong bows and heavy arrows to strike the Ming troops on the wall, but within a blink they again suppressed the Ming—this siege used no cannons; it was merely a modest Yanzhou city, yet a single drumbeat could breach it. Moreover, the first wave of attackers were not even the Manchu Eight Banners of the Qing family.

But a figure appeared on the wall, shielding his face with an armored forearm—armor on the forearm deflected the arrows one by one. He then leapt down from the wall and landed with a thud. There were no Qing corpses below to cushion the fall—indeed, although Yanzhou city resisted, its fighting strength was weak, and even the Qing casualties on the ground had already been carried away.

The Ming soldier landed, stood up, and despite jumping from a wall nearly two zhang high suffered no injury; after shaking his body left and right, he charged at the Qing formation. The commanders laughed, "He's lost his mind; behead him! Being able to jump down makes him a man." The white‑armored troops had already prepared for a city assault, so now they only needed to push forward a bit and cut off the lone Ming head that surged forward.

Bai Lang held in each hand a sixty‑four‑jin water‑polished Purple Gold Halberd, each about three feet six inches long and as thick as a duck egg, looking dark and unremarkable. He still wore mail armor beneath a battle robe, with a forearm guard on each arm, and the only other protection was an eight‑petal iron helmet. He crossed the two halberds in front of his face, deflecting arrows aimed at him, and kept advancing toward the Qing ranks without pause.

He did not use Lightness Skill, but the Qing line was only about thirty steps away, reachable in a dozen breaths. The heavy arrows they fired were quite powerful, yet they were of little effect on Bai Lang—his mail was a gift from the commander, with fine, dense rings, and his body was protected by the Thirteen Tai Bao Golden Bell Shield technique, so even if an arrow pierced the mail, it left no mark on his flesh—the force was insufficient.

Thus Bai Lang charged forward with arrows lodged in him, which surprised the few Baya La white‑armored soldiers, "That Ming man really has skill; he must be wearing double armor." The white‑armored troops laughed and casually prepared to strike the Ming soldier. A ten‑jin broadsword swung at him, but Bai Lang's left‑handed Purple Gold Halberd blocked it, instantly sending the sword flying, and even his palm split, blood gushing.

The Baya La's hand went numb, his whole arm feeling dead; he was about to shout when an iron halberd struck down in front of him. "Oh, be careful not to smash the head…" the white‑armored soldier even heard that line, then his vision blackened. Even if he truly wore double armor, it was useless; the blow hit his shoulder, drove down to his waist, and his body burst like a torn sack, spraying blood and organ fragments.

Another Baya La raised his shield—these veterans raise shields instantly—but Bai Lang's left‑handed Purple Gold Halberd thrust forward, shattering the shield with a crash, and piercing a huge hole through the shield‑wielding arm of the white‑armored soldier behind him and his chest, even smashing the spine in the back.

Then Bai Lang swung his two halberds, and one by one the Qing soldiers in the ranks were thrown into the air, twisted and broken, landing heavily after flying several meters. "Filthy fish!" Bai Lang shouted as he struck with a single halberd, sending a two‑hundred‑plus‑jin body flying like a reed; this divine force was like a stage performance.

The Qing soldiers behind—Jia La, Niu Lu, Gu Shan, and others—as well as Abatai were stunned; this lone Ming warrior broke through the formation single‑handedly, slicing through it as easily as cutting a melon, and these twin weapons… the way they smashed was unbelievable—could it be a mere prop or real? Is there anyone in the world who can wield such heavy arms?

Spears, swords and halberds behind lunged at Bai Lang, but the Purple Gold Halberd struck them, bending or breaking them cleanly, and the soldiers wielding them suffered split palms and could not hold their weapons, after which Bai Lang leapt like a tiger and launched a slaughter. As for the bows? A white‑armored soldier fired a heavy arrow at Bai Lang's face, but it slipped off, and the Qing troops began to fall apart. "No blade can pierce!" someone shouted in panic, and the Qing siege formation started to scatter.

Prince Abatai sensed trouble, for this looked like a peerless Ming general—no longer a Ming retainer, surely a Ming warlord emerged from somewhere, fiercer than the Baya La white‑armored soldiers, charging at him. "Cavalry, cavalry up, fire the muskets!" Abatai, who was also the son of an old slave capable of fighting, despite the bad situation, could order the cavalry to charge and fire muskets—after all, even now only about thirty Qing soldiers had fallen to Bai Lang's hand.

There were no Ming troops behind Bai Lang; he had entered alone, so Qing soldiers attempted to shoot arrows and encircle him from behind, but none dared to block him from the front. It wasn't until musketeers and the following cavalry appeared ahead of Bai Lang…