Chapter 50: The Invulnerable Warrior

The bandits were also stunned; although in previous years they were often shattered by the imperial troops, nothing like the single rider breaking a formation as seen in novels has ever happened. Even the strongest warriors of the imperial army could not, amid a mass of cavalry, kill ten in ten in such a way—yet the officer before us broke through the bow and spear formations alone, slew several veteran horsemen in an instant, and most crucially blocked close‑range arrows with one hand without a single hair of damage......

Such a creature must be the invulnerable monster; we should run now. After all, a peasant‑army commander like Li Guo is experienced at gathering defeated troops and corralling civilians again. The Central Plains and the Northwest have long been ravaged by these bandits; stealing grain simply forces ordinary people to become bandits. As for the rebel king not taking tribute—he truly doesn't need it, because the peasant army simply loots everything.

These people are accustomed to fleeing, so they immediately split off in different directions. As for the civilians they're dragging along? It doesn't matter; lose them and move on. After a raid they can round up a new crowd, and if the imperial officials receive them, the civil officials will worry about how to settle them—so eating the government's grain is fine too. Bai Lang spurs his horse forward; everyone ahead has their backs turned, so he can just hack at them at will.

"They're just small fry; the real bandits run so fast!" Bai Lang's warhorse is heavily laden and can't sprint, making it impossible to catch those thieves who even discard their own belongings to flee—perhaps they're hoping the imperial troops will scramble for loot and then turn their spears back. The Ming troops that follow behave exactly as Bai Lang expected: they rush chaotically for the scattered goods, busy beheading people, and have long ceased to function as a disciplined unit.

If the enemy tried a counter‑attack now, the imperial forces would be finished. But they can't, because Bai Lang has already cut down the central army's banner, and anyone attempting to rally troops for a counter‑strike now has his head hanging from a saddle. In this small‑scale clash, Bai Lang has no equal—those cavalry once gathered dozens of riders hoping to use the moment to strike back, yet Bai Lang met them head‑on, showing them what "invulnerable to blade and spear" truly means.

It truly is invulnerable, because both sides' horses cannot accelerate and can only trot forward, so their spears and guns can't pierce Bai Lang's Thirteen Tai Bao Golden Bell Shield; even mountain‑style armor would be hard to breach. Even if it pierced that armor, chainmail would block it, let alone the Bell Shield that feels like plate armor—and that plate‑like shield has extraordinary toughness......

Realizing this, Bai Lang let loose, caring little for defense; in the blink of an eye he scattered the dozens of riders before him, slaying half of them. The civilians being dragged couldn't escape; they were already malnourished and didn't know where to run, and they still held some awe for the imperial troops—those thousands of soldiers wouldn't necessarily be allowed to behead them for reward, right? In truth, they were hesitant; even the Ming troops who wanted to act, Governor Deng would not dare to do so.

But there was nothing you could do about those people; Governor Deng had to issue orders to every prefecture, tasking them with pacifying the refugees, "All are children of our Ming Dynasty and cannot be abandoned to bandits…" For several days after the battle no one could move a step; all sorts of after‑care had to be arranged. Bai Lang cared not for after‑care; he considered himself a warrior, only concerned with charging forward, with no need for formations—he was a dueling general, not a battle commander. Though he had chopped many heads, Bai Lang received no promotion; bandit heads are worth little, and promotion wasn't enough—Bai Lang wanted no money.

"My insight into this sword style has improved; I'm getting familiar with the character of the long‑handed broadsword—seems this martial progress can only come through killing," Bai Lang thought as he trained in his courtyard, reflecting on his gains. His own technique grew ever more refined, and the ferocious aura emanating from the Tiger Form True Meaning grew increasingly fierce; now, at a glance, one might truly think he resembled a man‑eating tiger.

The force of the Tiger Claw and the bone‑piercing energy are even more chilling; as his body twists, a terrifying shock radiates—like a raging tiger pouncing, an ordinary opponent would have his mind go blank and be easily slain. The Bell Shield skill has also progressed considerably; when he bursts into formation, spears thrust, swords slash, arrows fire, and even though his armor mitigates damage and prevents him from taking a clean hit, the improvement is evident.

His Internal Force is now thick and smooth, with no lag during circulation. The fourth level of the Golden Bell Shield no longer seems infinitely distant; it's already on the horizon. "Still can't unleash the novel‑style sky‑splitting palm," Bai Lang muttered. By then he had followed Governor Deng to Governor Sun's camp; the two governors had united their troops, though by unwritten rule they would soon part ways again—after all, all they are are governors, not a single unit.

Naturally, the subordinates on both sides met each other, and the generals under Governor Sun had also heard of Bai Lang's martial prowess—he had slain hundreds of eastern barbarians and recently scattered Li Guo's unit, which was considered cunning and battle‑ready within the bandit army. So they came to see Bai Lang, hosting a banquet while testing whether he was bragging—and they were all terrified. At this point Bai Lang's cultivation had not yet reached the pinnacle of returning to simplicity, but his outward demonic aura was evident; though his expression was calm, those present felt as if a massive beast were silently advancing toward them.

As for the subsequent exhibition, when Bai Lang tore open chainmail with his bare hands and smashed a wall with a single punch, the watching generals were stunned. Yet Bai Lang continued to demonstrate the Thirteen Tai Bao Golden Bell Shield; his torso glowed, and no matter how soldiers slashed with swords, cleaved with axes, thrust spears, or shot arrows, not even his flesh was pierced. Some skeptical generals tried it themselves, confirming Bai Lang's "invulnerable to blade and spear." Governors Sun and Deng also witnessed it and were full of admiration; the crowd then bombarded Bai Lang with questions about what it was—many assumed it was some kind of talisman.

"Thirteen Tai Bao Golden Bell Shield!" Bai Lang answered their query calmly, "I have trained hard since childhood, only then did I achieve this." He was lying there. A scholar standing beside Governor Sun smiled, "Young hero, your Internal Force…" The voice seemed to echo only in Bai Lang's ear. Bai Lang glanced at the scholar and saw a gentle‑faced man with bright eyes, long whiskers like five willows, and a long sword slung at his waist.