Chapter 135: The Age of Cavalry Is Over

While he knelt on the ground weeping uncontrollably, the enemy had begun to emerge slowly from the woods on both sides.

When he saw the approximate number of enemy troops, he could not help but gasp—just a force of one or two thousand had turned their thousands of cavalry into bloody pulp.

Just as he sank into thought, a young officer stepped forward from the enemy ranks, his posture straight, his face stern, standing like a statue.

“Surrender your weapons. The Revolutionary Army treats prisoners well.”

A cold, emotionless voice reached his ears; at that moment, he felt a humiliation unlike any he had ever known—surrender, prisoner—he was a young elite of the Wanyan clan, appointed at a young age as an imperial bodyguard.

Later, favored by the Emperor, he was promoted beyond all norms, and before reaching thirty, he was enfeoffed as a general entrusted with guarding Zhongdu’s security; his entire family took pride in him.

Now, defeated and brought to this, he had no face left to live; as for surrender—the Wanyan family knew no such word.

He said nothing, but with a posture that inspired solemn respect, he carefully adjusted his cap until it sat squarely upon his head. Then, gripping his Ma Dao tightly, he drew it without hesitation—the blade gleamed with cold light, reflecting his unwavering gaze. He prepared for his final charge, racing toward the enemies who had driven him to the brink.

A fierce, unyielding spirit surged within him—he longed to see the enemies who had defeated him, to witness their might and ferocity. He yearned, in this final battle, to challenge them with his own strength and courage, to strip away their mystery and uncover their true power.

He drew a deep breath, feeling the tension and intensity thick in the air. He knew this charge would be the most important moment of his life—the finest chance to prove his courage and resolve.

A fine soldier always holds deep respect and sincere admiration for warriors who face death without fear.

The officer slightly raised his arm; behind him, soldiers raised their rifles in perfect unison, their black muzzles all aimed squarely at the Jin general. In that instant, the entire battlefield seemed to freeze, the air heavy with tension and death.

“Charge!”

“Fire!”

The charge of the knight and the roar of gunfire erupted simultaneously, like an epic symphony suddenly struck. The brave knight, clad in gleaming armor, Ma Dao in hand, rode his steed unflinchingly toward the hail of bullets. Hundreds of barrels spat searing flames at once—the sound deafening, smoke choking. Yet the knight seemed unaware; his eyes saw only the enemy, only the resolve to slash through them with his blade.

In the scene before him, he seemed transformed into a god of war—his Ma Dao flashed with cold light in the sun, each swing cleaving the air, summoning a chilling storm. His horse, under his command, displayed astonishing speed and power, carrying its master into the storm of bullets. At that moment, the entire world stilled—only the knight’s charge and the thunderous gunfire remained.

After the deafening gunfire faded, the brave knight and his loyal steed lay mangled on the ground, like a tragic and brutal painting. Their once-impenetrable armor, capable of withstanding swords, spears, and arrows, now lay shattered as if made of paper, torn apart effortlessly by enemy firearms.

As his life neared its end, his thoughts surged like a raging river—countless memories and emotions intertwined in his heart. He recalled the fearless figure of Emperor Taizu, Wanyan Aguda, who led the Jurchens from the distant lands of white mountains and black waters, advancing relentlessly, victorious in every battle. They crushed the mighty Liao, toppled the Northern Song, and forged a glorious era for the Jurchens.

Back then, the Jurchen cavalry were so bold and proud—riding sturdy steeds, wielding sharp weapons, they descended upon battlefields like tigers from Mount Menghuxia, unstoppable. Their bravery and wisdom made the Jurchens invincible in that age.

Yet, as he witnessed these enemies’ firearms, a sense of helplessness welled within him. The sheer power of these weapons could strike terror into any mighty army. He knew—even Taizu Wanyan Aguda, leading the Jurchen cavalry at the dawn of their empire, could not stand against such weapons.

The age when cavalry reigned supreme was over.

“Captain, we’ve caught a big fish! This guy isn’t just a high-ranking Jin official—he’s from the Wanyan clan!” The soldier who searched his body held up the Jin general’s token, triumphant.

As the captain stared at the token handed to him, he was stunned—how could a Wanhu, so high-ranking in Jin and commanding so many troops, have fallen so easily to their humble infantry regiment? It was heartbreaking.

Even the Jin’s elite cavalry guarding Zhongdu had been crushed by their ordinary infantry regiment—what of other regional forces? And as for the militia units the Jin imperial court ordered local landlords to train—ha, were those even armies?

“Let’s move. In the coming days, all Jin regional command posts will send troops to rescue Zhongdu. Our task in the Taixing Mountain Military District is simple: destroy as many of these reinforcements as possible in Hebei, so the Shandong and Dabie Mountain districts can open up new fronts and expand their bases.”

“The enemy we face next may be nearly all of Jin’s armies—soldiers, are you afraid?” Captain Wang Yunshan roared to his men behind him.

“Not afraid!” The entire regiment erupted in unprecedented excitement—after fighting the Jin regulars, they realized defeating them was easier than hunting bandits in the mountains.

Once they met the enemy on open plains, artillery bombardment would immediately turn the battle into a free-for-all hunt—encountering a Battalion Commander? A single rifle could wipe them out. Only when facing cavalry five times their number did they resort to artillery and ambushes.

To this day, besides eliminating this Wanhu, they had already wiped out five Battalion Commanders—so easily it felt like a dream.

Are the Jin forces really this weak?

Meanwhile, inside the makeshift military command post of Mount Taixing, Zhang Chu’an and Zhang Xiaofan pointed at the map and began issuing combat orders.