Chapter 54: Bai Lang's Fury

Governor Deng stared at Bai Lang, sighing, "General Bai, you… you… how did the Left Marshal suddenly fall ill and die? Ah, Heaven does not favor our Ming, losing a fine commander. And these two generals, unexpectedly also fell ill and went with the Left Marshal—what a lament." Bai Lang bowed and clasped his fists, "Please, Governor Deng, provide the Left Marshal a fine coffin and inter him. As for the Left Marshal's posthumous title, we will still need the Supervising Commander's flattering words."

Governor Deng's expression hardened, "This is natural! The Left Marquis's posthumous affairs must be a splendid burial!" Bai Lang laughed softly. The generals, hearing the two answer each other, had already lightly brushed aside Zuo Liangyu's murder, watching the headless corpse of Zuo Liangyu lying on the ground, his chest still nailed to the earth by his own spinal column linking to his skull—internal energy was everywhere, the spine no weaker than a long spear. Such cruelty was terrifying, and that bowing courteous fellow, glancing all around, was also a man‑eating beast.

No one knew that Governor Deng was also drenched in cold sweat behind him, relying on decades of studying Qi cultivation technique and years of official quick wit to manage the situation, while Bai Lang had taken such a drastic step without a word—originally he only wanted Zuo Liangyu to put on a little show, but now, in this circumstance, he and Bai Lang were like two grasshoppers on the same line, naturally risking everything to "support the waist" of Bai Lang.

The audacious, ruthless, and brutal actions of Bai Lang were completely beyond Governor Deng's expectations; Zuo Liangyu was on the verge of being ennobled, yet Bai Lang said "kill" and killed him, even forcibly. As for handling the aftermath, just thinking of it made Governor Deng's head feel as heavy as a cauldron—perhaps once these generals left the camp, they would immediately raise troops to intercept and slay, and this could mean dying together with Bai Lang in Zuo's forces. "But this state affair may turn disastrous!" he sighed inwardly—at this moment Governor Deng was not afraid of death; having survived the near‑destruction of Yanzhou City by the Eastern invaders, he already regarded himself as a dead man.

The generals, each having seen the Governor, quickly left the camp with his permission; Bai Lang bowed again, "I, the junior general, will stay outside the camp; if the Supervising Commander has any orders, please command." At that moment, Governor Deng's personal guards had already entered to begin clearing the corpses here.

After a short while, just as Governor Deng had anticipated, ominous signs appeared at every camp head, and cavalry and infantry were being mobilized everywhere. Governor Deng looked at the sky—dark and heavy—and felt as if a murderous aura shot straight upward. "Today may be this old man's death day..." Governor Deng put on his official robes one by one, brushed his hair, set his official hat straight, and sat in the center of the camp tent, quietly awaiting his fate.

Bai Lang flipped onto his horse, "First the rebels…" he sneered, "You! Follow me into the formation! If you do not obey, I will kill you all shortly!" He said this to the over‑hundred Supervising Commander‑marked camp officers and soldiers, though it was unnecessary as they were all willing to follow him into the trap… "You few stay here to guard the Governor. I'll be back soon!" Bai Lang rode toward a spot, brandishing a Green Dragon Crescent Blade.

A thunder‑boom sounded, "Rebel against the superior! Kill!" Bai Lang led the charge, leapt over the camp gate, and slashed into the formation of a certain general who was arranging troops. The Green Dragon Crescent Blade truly seemed like a green dragon weaving through the crowd; as its claws and teeth swung, heads burst with blood. Cutting through the formation took only a few breaths for Bai Lang. He stormed straight into the enemy's central camp tent, and the soldiers behind him seized the chance to hack and slaughter the enemy.

Bai Lang was also being slashed by knives, but those attacks could not even pierce his mountain‑patterned armor. Now all those people had become dead beneath Bai Lang's hooves—no commander remained before his horse, which was Bai Lang's current image. He cut people while roaring like a thunder‑boom at the rebel's treason, causing many soldiers to scatter under his shout. The key was that Bai Lang's slaughter seemed unstoppable; someone even fired a small cannon, but the shot hit nothing, and Bai Lang, spotting it, charged and sliced all the unlucky souls near the cannon with a single slash.

Bai Lang's keen eyes quickly spotted the rebel officer, "Decisive, stepping out of the camp and immediately rebelling!" Bai Lang casually hammered his long sword into the ground, the pagoda‑shaped tip at the end of the shaft sinking deep. The rugged warrior leapt from his horse, employing his Grass Flying Lightness Skill, lunging toward the man. In this situation, using Lightness Skill is faster and more agile than charging on horseback; Bai Lang's Grass Flying is no slower than a warhorse bearing a heavily armored general.

Bai Lang's Grass Flying, with a whiff of blood, was truly like a fierce tiger leaping through the mountains; its short‑range speed surpassed that of a galloping horse. The straight‑line distance between Bai Lang and that fellow was only about thirty‑plus zhang, with only a few hundred soldiers in between. The Ming army at this moment relied mainly on household troops, and now the officer's household troops were protecting him, trying quickly to distance themselves from Bai Lang.

Because they saw Bai Lang "fly" over heads and shoulders, every unlucky soul he stepped on was crushed or wounded—at this moment the weight of Bai Lang's armor was probably close to fifty jin, and his own weight about one hundred seventy jin; for such a heavy body to be so agile and fast in the air, each footfall was far from light, enough to crush a head or shatter a person's torso bones.

Bai Lang had no interest in the "light" aspect of Grass Flying, but employed its "speed"—the gale that sweeps across the grass; it was more a tiger's run than a Grass Flying… The soldiers were no longer crowded; people fled in all directions. After Bai Lang landed, he let out a long howl, and with that howl he charged straight at the general guarded by his personal troops. The pallor on the man's face was clear to Bai Lang, and the grim smile at Bai Lang's mouth was equally clear to the man.

Bai Lang was now fully armored, even his phoenix‑wing helmet was properly worn, and his cloak billowed thanks to the Lightness Skill. He half‑curved his body, leaning slightly forward, rapidly closing in while already prepared to strike. His personal guards brandished swords and spears, some shot arrows or aimed bird‑guns, but Bai Lang's form rose and fell, spiraling left and right, leaving the bird‑guns no time to aim—he was simply too fast.

Arrows shot were brushed aside by Bai Lang; even if they hit him, it mattered little—the household troops of the Zuo Liangyu officer were far inferior to the Tartar white‑armored soldiers, and their bows were likewise weaker. Bai Lang had seen the Tartar's heavy "two‑stone" bow and the spear‑like armor‑piercing arrows; compared with those that could easily pierce transparent heavy armor, the current arrows were soft and feathery. The opponent's twisted face was clearly visible, and the household troops' spears had already been thrust out.

These household troops were far stronger than ordinary soldiers, yet Bai Lang reached out, pinching several spearheads under his armpit; with one hand he gripped the spear shafts, exerted force, and Internal Force caused the shafts to snap, crushing the soldiers' palms. Bai Lang's arms extended and contracted, his body lunged forward, diving directly among the spears thrust by the rear‑row household troops…