Chapter 730: Entrapped Formation

Two thousand masters gave each group of three a sword, each man also received a stick, and sent them to guard the main camp—there's no need to fear these useless brutes coming blindly, because only by defeating them can they survive. Bai Lang ordered the whole army to eat well, keep dry rations on them, and after donning armor, walk over, which was just right for digestion. Bai Lang rode ahead on his everyday horse, while his personal guards led his warhorse.

The two camps were less than thirty li apart, and that day the weather was not very hot; everyone formed a column march, bringing over a hundred wagons. The enemy also needed to assemble a camp—how could they truly let Bai Lang's army press against the camp gate? The undeployed thirty thousand cavalry were just thirty thousand pieces of meat, and An Da also needed to get the thirty thousand cavalry out of the camp quickly. His camp was far larger yet far more crude than Bai Lang's, and the thirty thousand cavalry's shouts and horse whinnies were meant to open a wide front, allowing them to surround Bai Lang's forces from many directions.

Bai Lang pressed forward resolutely; on his left lay a great river, a natural cover, and An Da's cavalry could only try to encircle him from three directions. Bai Lang surveyed his troops and, honestly, was not very satisfied, as most wore pallid faces—there was nothing he could do; if they were the men of the late Han and Three Kingdoms they'd be eager to fight, but such armies have long disappeared from history. It can only be said that once the fighting began, these men could exert the strength of their training.

Overall, as long as the army is well fed, its performance remains consistently good, and its ability to obey orders is still present. Even if it appears that Bai Lang is leading them to death, none of them have deserted—at least they have enough sense. The column gradually began to tier, with Bai Lang leading his personal guards at the front, the other generals forming wing‑like shapes, the whole army becoming a spear‑shaped formation. Bai Lang then directly charged at An Da's great banner, slashing the great banner and capturing An Da; that would settle the matter.

The only regret is that the deputy commander behind him who was responsible for the whole army was not Qi Jiguang, though he was still an old veteran; besides, this command, apart from fighting to the death forward, could have no tactical variation. Bai Lang ordered his men to raise the great banner, a huge "Bai" character with a white flying bear beneath it fluttering, the white‑tiger army aura spreading in all directions. The spring's warm breeze was instantly replaced by leaden clouds, and a cold air like a reverse spring chill transformed into a mad wind that blew in. qqxsnew

A murderous aura enveloped the battlefield; no matter what the Yellow Calendar wrote today, there is no doubt it has become a killing ground. Bai Lang leapt to change horses, mounted his warhorse, drew the three‑pointed, double‑edged blade from the packhorse, raised one arm and swung forward, "All before me, be cut!" After that tiger‑like roar, he spurred his horse to charge. At that moment he was still at least three arrow‑ranges away from the Mongol cavalry arrayed ahead, but the enemy was also galloping forward—the cavalry impact was about to begin.

Then the cavalry forced a breakthrough against the Ming army infantry formation, which was also An Da's order—to deal with Bai Lang he had already prepared for heavy losses. But as long as they killed this Grand Equal Governor and his elite troops here, the Ming defensive line would be open for his ingress and egress. Such daring Ming generals are few; each death reduces their number. Bai Lang didn't think much, leading his army straight to crash into them, as if the An Da cavalry flanking from the right wing and rear didn't exist.

Bai Lang rode ahead, and opposite the iron cavalry roared; in an instant the Mongols drew bows and shot arrows, aimed directly at Bai Lang. Bai Lang casually brushed his hand to shield his warhorse, and he regarded the arrows as nothing; while his right hand swung his weapon, his left hand casually brushed outward from within. "Why does the sun and moon's light not reach here! Only the north wind's howl can rage from the heavens!" A fierce wind rose, and his palm force blew most of the arrows away.

At this moment the two sides had already made contact; Bai Lang crossed his right hand over his left and flung a 180‑degree wild slash forward. The innate true qi forced onto it caused severe strain, but the blade's light broke limits, extending like ripples three zhang away. Just this one strike cut down dozens of An Da's elite vanguard cavalry, tearing a fan‑shaped gap; thereafter his soldiers and generals roared wildly, each unleashing their martial arts—especially the formation techniques charging forward.

At this point there was no time to worry about casualties; if they didn't break through, everyone would die. And Bai Lang could always tear through the enemy line; his three‑pointed, double‑edged blade slashed and thrust, and in an instant the Mongol heavy cavalry before him were all cut down, dead men and dead horses littered the ground, and the fellow exuded an extremely grim bloody aura. Bai Lang shouted his own name while constantly urging his horse forward, cutting the enemy chieftains in formation. So far more than a hundred Mongol cavalry have fallen under his blade, and the morale of the entire Ming Imperial Army has been strengthened by the white‑tiger army aura he radiates.

The reckless, life‑or‑death battle directly smashed the charging Mongol elite cavalry; the few surviving riders fled on horseback from both sides, never daring to look back. This batch of four thousand Ming elite soldiers only carried three‑eyed guns; after firing all their three‑eyed guns in the field, they plunged straight into hand‑to‑hand combat. They are melee troops; Bai Lang trained them precisely to be ready for this type of battle.

By this time Bai Lang had already abandoned his horse; his repeated slashes had exhausted the horse's power under his hips, and the warhorse could not bear Bai Lang's weight plus some recoil—it was just a slightly larger Mongol horse, not the beasts of South or West Asia. So Bai Lang rolled off the saddle, dismounted, and with his three‑pointed, double‑edged blade began a sweeping strike; the long blade thrust out, lifting both rider and horse and flinging them away, instantly sending three people flying.

He was also ruthless with his bare hands; his fists and palms shattered bones and tendons everywhere, turning men and armor into deformed meat masses. The weapons thrown at him rebounded, causing those soldiers to break at the throat, while the invulnerable Bai Lang roamed the battlefield; however, after only a short while he was about to pierce the charging cavalry in front, striking under the great banner. The Ming troops behind him were also high‑spirited, completely ignoring the pursuing forces behind them, and kept pressing forward.

Bai Lang led the vanguard, brandishing his great sword; there was not a single general before him, and just as he was about to finish the kill, suddenly two lamas and several broad‑shouldered Mongols, as well as a few men dressed in Han clothing, rushed to surround Bai Lang. One lama held two large cymbals with extremely sharp edges, and the other lama's palm was unusually large, with a heat rising from it like flames.

The Mongols were straightforward; they all wielded heavy weapons, and their divine aura made it clear they were top external‑gate masters. The few in Han dress were snarling, probably remnants of the White Lotus Sect. These people were the most mixed, carrying both swords and sabers, and their martial skill surpassed that of the Mongols. Bai Lang felt that they were only a half‑step away from the Innate Expert level, but unfortunately they could not be stepped over.