Chapter 731: Breakthrough

These several attackers came in a siege, even innate experts like Bai Lang were briefly blocked. The two most daring lamas—one wielded two large cymbals with both hands and swung them, the other twisted his palm, one palm like a flaming long sword, the other like a sky‑tipping massive rock, slashing down. The others lagged a bit behind, especially those dressed as Han Chinese who were ready to seize any gap and launch a sneak attack.

The Mongol fighters using external martial arts were slower, needing a breath before they could raise their weapons to strike. Bai Lang's right hand, the Three-Point Double-Edged Sword, emitted a whistling roar—an expression of innate true Qi coursing into the blade. The sword also slashed back at the pair of large cymbals. His left hand formed a fist, pounding toward that dual blade and palm. At the same time, Bai Lang closed in; as his true Qi surged, he fully unleashed the Innate realm of the Thirteen Tai Bao Golden Bell Shield.

The Three-Point Double-Edged Sword sliced the golden cymbal as if cutting rotten earth; the blade's thrust also bisected that lama's arm, the half‑body slipping down slowly. The punching fist roared like a fierce tiger, shattering the scorching blade Qi and the sky‑tipping palm force; the invisible Qi of the punch completely fractured the lama's hands, arms, bones and flesh. Afterwards the whole body, except the two legs, was torn into a lump of shredded meat by the fist's power. *Clang! *

At this moment the Mongols and the White Lotus Sect were like waking from a dream; they had taken the innate expert too lightly—no matter how well they planned, the true innate expert still shattered their illusion. The two lamas were crushed and killed at a single glance, the opponents left seemingly unscathed. The Mongols lost their temper, and within the White Lotus Sect someone developed a desire to flee—originally a Han, once he runs to Han lands and hides his name, who could find him?

Their attacks continued to strike Bai Lang, yet had no effect and were reflected back; these were also masters, skillfully controlling the rebound force. Forget the Mongols, the White Lotus Sect members instantly adopted a roaming‑fight stance. Their sword and blade techniques shifted to target Bai Lang's eyes, ears, and lower body, while the Mongols kept bombarding, trying to break through Bai Lang's Golden Bell Shield with greater force.

Thus the result was Bai Lang's feet never stopped; the Mongols fell one after another in his hands—either sliced into pieces or brutally ripped out head and spine. Seeing the unfavorable situation, the White Lotus Sect members tried to flee—how could hundreds or thousands of people run? The clash lasted only five or six rounds, and both sides' troops were already pressing. Earlier, when the massive exchanges began, many unlucky Mongol cavalry were drawn in and were killed together.

Now that they were blocked, could they still stride out on heads? In the chaos of war they tried that, and Bai Lang successfully waist‑cut them, removing several thighs; amid screams, the repeatedly passing cavalry trampled them into mush. Bai Lang's footwork was unmatched; wielding the Three-Point Double-Edged Sword he swept and hacked wildly, carving a passage for his own troops. Unfortunately, the Three-Point Double-Edged Sword is indeed unsuited to being wrapped in innate true Qi; the loss is too great.

After endless slaughter, especially when each strike cut through both person and armor or person and horse, the Three-Point Double-Edged Sword inevitably began to dull; blood and the fat of humans and horses clung to the blade and hilt, blunting the edge. Now it relied solely on weight to kill, yet even the shaft could no longer hold—an obvious sign of the Ming Dynasty's declining manufacturing skill.

Bai Lang casually discarded the Three-Point Double-Edged Sword and drew from his waist a Miao Knife that had been merely a spare— the long sword in his hand felt much like a single blade. Its forging was far superior to that of the Three-Point Double-Edged Sword, bearing bright filigree, and true Qi attached to it was far more convenient and less wasteful. Bai Lang hacked head‑on; in no time he broke through the heavy encirclement, and before him stood Ren Da's Great Banner.

At this moment the Ming forces were heavily besieged; the ground was littered with dead men and dead horses, and the Mongol cavalry suffered severe losses— the cavalry formation that faced Bai Lang's charge almost completely scattered, and even Ren Da could not regroup them in half a day. Moreover, many were cowardly. Bai Lang's deputy commander remained composed; up to now the Ming army had not broken, but together with the commander had pierced the Mongol formation—this could be called the top‑tier elite of the Ming Dynasty.

The Ming Dynasty has many "elite" who can fire guns and cannons, but close‑quarters combat elites are few. Facing Ren Da's Great Banner lifted Ming morale, and the heavily armored cavalry guarding Ren Da finally charged at the advancing Ming troops. These cavalrymen were all armored, their hooves thudding heavily, and their charge speed was not swift—rather, after this round, at least half the cavalry lacked the stamina to turn and charge again.

Of course, precisely because of this, the cavalry's frontal impact is terrifyingly lethal, often winning with a single blow. This is Ren Da's trump card that now dominates most of the Mongols, now employed for a decisive strike. Seeing this, Bai Lang burst into loud laughter, his bones cracking, and with both hands gripping his long sword he directly counter‑charged the heavy cavalry.

A single slash drew the blade's light several feet; the two heavy cavalry before him were instantly drenched in blood, their bodies and horses cleanly split open. As Bai Lang's blade flashed, he pulled from the blood a fierce tiger formed of bloodwater—a sight never seen in the World of Laughing Proud. The blood tiger's whiskers stood erect, its form vivid; even an innate expert's detached true Qi had never manifested so. Bai Lang's innate true Qi now also carried "intent," boosting its power and making the Qi truly "alive."

This is already an internal scene; in this world there is no way to fully unleash internal scene power, only to reach this point. At this stage, the World of Laughing Proud has reached its pinnacle; beyond it there is no path. Bai Lang swung his blade, and the blood tiger lunged into the unstoppable heavy cavalry, roaring and biting; in the blink of an eye men and horses were thrown, over ten riders fell during the charge, a disaster, and the chain reaction caused the entire impact front to collapse.

The blood tiger's whole body was composed of razor‑sharp blade light formed from innate true Qi; a mere brush caused injury, a pounce caused death. Bai Lang again pressed and lifted with a single palm, summoning wind, sand and blood from the ground; a true dragon with gleaming scales swayed its head and tail, circling Bai Lang. "Great Mighty Celestial Dragon!" Bai Lang shouted.

This is actually the Seeing the Dragon in the Field palm of the Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms, the palm force stored and un‑released, and the next moment is Shocking the Heavens. At this point the Mongol soldiers who witnessed it had already trampled each other, and many Ming troops dared not move—this is truly a being among the immortals; could Governor Bai really be the celestial White Tiger Star Lord?