Chapter 69: Lazy, Unnamed

"No matter what tactics the Chief Commander employs, the central troops of the Roving Bandits must eventually be broken through. Therefore, this subordinate volunteers to lead our cavalry to charge into their central force, forcing them not to split their troops; the Chief Commander can then calmly gather the main army to encircle and annihilate them," Bai Lang said very calmly. "This job, of course, is for me to do; does anyone object?" The generals all replied that he was the greatest, so of course he should. Governor Sun looked at Bai Lang, then laughed heartily, "The Right Deputy Commander truly is a pillar of our Ming court; this vanguard mission will teach you."

Bai Lang clasped his fists and then stepped aside. While Governor Sun assigned tasks to the generals, he listened quietly from the side, "It seems we'll defend first, then attack?" After the assignments were finished, Bai Lang went out together with the generals.

At this point his light cavalry had fallen below three thousand; some thousand‑household and hundred‑household units had secretly taken their subordinates back to the barracks, but Bai Lang was too lazy to worry—on the left and right he was merely using the battle formation to refine his martial skills, and the cavalry behind him were only shouting, cheering, and picking up heads. Though Bai Lang was swelling with confidence, he was not so arrogant as to think he alone could break the formation and slay Li Zicheng; even if he piled up lives, he believed killing a thousand men was already his limit—both his Internal Force and his flesh had likely reached their limits.

The decisive battle obviously would not be finished in a single day, but from tomorrow the entire Ming army should march forward to press, forcing Li Zicheng to meet them—though it is a defensive‑instead‑of‑offensive stance, an initial attack is still required, and now that the supply line is secured, Li Zicheng's provisions are scarce and his troops are heavily burdened, making him the side eager for a decisive clash. Bai Lang gave a slight nod to his own troops, "This force is still under a thousand, about six or seven hundred. However, the warhorses and packhorses total fifteen or sixteen hundred. Enough."

After a good sleep, Bai Lang washed and groomed himself, ate breakfast, and then began donning armor—what time? It didn't matter, and each unit was already on standby; the Governor's council was only for the staff and reserve commanders. Inside the bright‑white mountain‑pattern armor was a cotton robe, a soft, close‑fitting garment cut from Songjiang cloth that could absorb sweat and keep warm; over that was a hemp robe for durability, and outside that was the mountain‑pattern armor itself.

All the straps were properly secured with the aid of auxiliary troops; Bai Lang put on his white‑tiger forehead‑covering phoenix‑wing helm, and his steps rang as he walked out of his own camp, "Is everything ready? Good, follow me out to form the line!" Bai Lang vaulted onto his horse, leading his cavalry in single file out of the camp and into the sea of the army formation.

The Ming army was nearly finished forming its line, and Bai Lang's white‑lettered banner and winged‑tiger banner stood at the very front of the central ranks; he sat on his horse looking six or seven li ahead. From this height he could faintly see a trace of Kaifeng City, and the deployment of Li Zicheng's massive army beyond six or seven li was also clearly visible. Li Zicheng's formation, anchored to his own camps that blockaded Kaifeng, presented a defensive posture.

The central drumbeat sounded, and Bai Lang led his cavalry out swiftly, while the rest of the Ming army moved more slowly. Cavalry on the left and right wings also surged forward, their task likewise to harass the enemy. Opposing cavalry charged out as well, apparently to intercept the imperial cavalry and also to cause trouble. Bai Lang still wielded two weapons, a long Pu Dao in his left hand and an iron spear in his right—he thought this worked well, suitable for both killing and charging. This time his warhorse wore no half‑body armor, only plated protection on the chest and neck.

In this way the horse's load was lighter; Chinese horses are not heavy breeds, and Bai Lang himself, being tall and large, added over two hundred jin of armor, already a heavy burden for the warhorse. Bai Lang let his horse trot, conserving stamina; he had no intention of charging head‑on against the enemy cavalry, as that would drain the horse's strength. The opposing cavalry, however, spared no effort, continuously accelerating straight toward Bai Lang.

The cavalry on the left and right wings charged at Bai Lang, but he ignored them, merely sneering at the fast‑approaching Roving Bandit cavalry ahead. Bai Lang shifted his weapons, trotted his horse a short step, then began to swing. He thrust his left spear, and after sidestepping the enemy's lance, drove the rider off his horse; his right long blade swung and cut down another rider—both man and horse. The opposing horses passed by at great speed, but after a dozen breaths the two forces had clashed fully; Bai Lang advanced a dozen steps, leaving a bloody lane on both sides and behind him.

His armor already showed damage, even the heart‑shield was cracked—these cavalry were veterans, many from the elite Nine‑Border troops, who after being scattered had simply joined the Roving Bandits. Their combat skills were also excellent; faced with such a massive onslaught, even Bai Lang could not block every strike—but he never needed to block everything, his priority was killing.

The Thirteen Tai Bao Golden Bell Shield was indeed formidable; weapons driven by horsepower that could pierce his armor still could not harm him, so Bai Lang only needed to focus on killing and deflecting attacks on his warhorse. In this clash, Bai Lang counted that he had slain at least thirty cavalry; he alone bent the enemy's sharp spearheads, and the following riders, hindered by the fallen bodies, were forced to slow and lost morale, scattering, only to be mowed down by the cavalry behind Bai Lang.

The enemy cavalry ahead of Bai Lang had already broken and fled to the left, right, and rear—though they had probably only lost about twenty percent of their troops, the bravest and strongest had been wiped out in the previous wave, and the demoralized riders simply ran. The cavalry on the left and right wings were still tangled, but Bai Lang paid them no mind, pressing his own cavalry forward. "Did you get a good look at that family's weapon?" Bai Lang shouted, and the rear guards hurriedly replied that they had.

Bai Lang suddenly urged his horse forward, charging toward the front; the enemy's main formation lay three hundred steps ahead.

Bai Lang still crossed his sword and spear in front of the horse, occasionally swatting away incoming arrows—already a hundred steps away, but still weak due to distance, which he deflected effortlessly. "Seventy steps!" Bai Lang roared, leading his horse's head as the mount galloped at an angle, while the opposite side crackled with gunfire, and smoke instantly filled and obscured the front line. "Just like the regular army, it's useless; they can be easily fooled into a volley of firearms. Now the firearms are useless," Bai Lang laughed.

Inside, the crackling gunfire continued unabated; even the three‑round volley that had been prepared was completely spent… At that moment Bai Lang let out a tiger's roar and charged straight into the drifting smoke before him.