Chapter 758: A poisonous scheme to exterminate the family slaughters Black Water; three thousand iron cavalry plunder the Golden Abys

Chen Yan's ultimate secret order, which only sought plunder and left no survivors, was like a bloody butcher knife that brutally snapped the chain of reason, completely untying the violent shackles in the depths of the souls of these three thousand Xia Prefecture elite cavalry.

The cold canyon was filled with the pungent smell of warhorse urine and the metallic fishy smell of cold iron armor rubbing against each other.

Lu Ming, whose massive body like a black iron tower sat on the special large black horse, slowly rubbed his thick fingers on the cold, hard texture of the hundred-jin iron-forged horse spear, the pressure of his fingertips on the refined steel surface making a hair-raising rustling sound.

He raised his thick arm covered in leather armor and pushed the black iron armor mask covering his face upward forcefully, revealing a ferocious face that was extremely eager for slaughter.

"Brothers have been cooped up in this godforsaken canyon for three whole days; I'm afraid the blades in your hands are about to grow a layer of rust."

Lu Ming grinned with that wide mouth of his, revealing two rows of sharp, interlocking white teeth, his deep and resonant voice reverberating back and forth between the empty, deathly silent canyon walls.

Beside him, a deputy general with a knife scar on his face gripped the ring-headed saber hilt at his waist, the knotted blue veins on the back of his hand squirming uneasily like several thick earthworms.

"As long as the commander gives an order, even if the brothers turn into evil ghosts demanding life, they will tear the fat sheep on this grassland to pieces."

The deputy general's bloodshot eyes glowed with a ghostly green light like a hungry wolf in the dim night, and the warhorse seemed to feel the master's killing intent, lowering its neck and snorting a dull sound.

Lu Ming used the tail of the horse spear to smash heavily on the hard rock ground, smashing out a circle of fine, splashing stone slag.

"Our target this time is the richest Black Water Horse Farm in the east of Rouran."

A cruel, cold smile appeared on his ferocious face. He gripped his thick fingers forcefully in mid-air, as if he wanted to crush the throat of the entire grassland in his palm.

"Not only are there tens of thousands of top-grade Hequ horses specially supplied to the Royal Court, but it also hides the most fatal core weapon forging camp of Rouran..."

The time before dawn is often the darkest moment in this world and the best hunting moment to lower human defense psychology to the freezing point.

The hooves of all three thousand Xia Prefecture elite cavalry were wrapped in thick, rough cloth, and the soldiers tightly bit the soft wood bits in their mouths to prevent making any sound.

Under the cover of the sky-filling black clouds and cold wind, this iron cavalry was like a black storm blowing out of the netherworld, approaching the massive horse farm that occupied a wide area along the shadows of the undulating sand dunes silently.

This grassland lifeline was tightly shrouded in a false and extremely decadent peace at this time.

A Rouran noble general who was in charge of the horse farm was lying extremely lazily on a soft couch covered with expensive snow leopard skin.

An arrogant and conceited expression hung on his oily face, his rough hands wandering wantonly on the smooth back of the female slave in his arms, causing the female slave to let out bursts of charming low moans.

"No matter how bloody the battle is on the Jinshan side, the war fire won't burn to this rear grassland of ours. Even if the Khan's main force closes their eyes, they can twist off the heads of those Turkic dogs and use them as night pots."

The Rouran garrison commander lifted a silver wine vessel filled with pungent, strong liquor and poured the amber liquid down his throat in large gulps; the mutton-scented wine flowed wantonly down his messy, bushy beard and onto the fat on his chest.

This noble was completely immersed in the fantasy of Central Plains wealth, totally unaware that the sharp sickle of the god of death had been placed on his thick and short neck carotid artery.

Outside the unprepared wooden fence, Lu Ming's eyes, full of bloodshot red, locked firmly onto the iron-wood stockade gate in the center of the horse farm, which was extremely lax in defense, through the thin morning mist.

He clamped the horse's belly with his legs forcefully, and the big black horse exploded with a terrifying jumping power that defied common sense, rushing out of the cover like a crazy prehistoric beast.

"Flatten this broken stockade for me!"

Lu Ming's violent voice, suppressed for three days, sounded like a thunderclap rolling down from the nine heavens, instantly tearing through the deathly silence of the camp's morning.

His thick arm, like a tree trunk, swung the heavy iron-forged horse spear, carrying a violent kinetic energy that could split mountains and seas, and smashed it ruthlessly on the heavy iron-wood stockade gate that appeared indestructible.

Accompanied by a dull, ear-shattering sound, the entire sturdy wooden gate exploded into sharp wood slag flying all over the sky in front of that absolute wild force.

Several Rouran guards dozing behind the doors didn't even have time to scream before they were turned into beehives by the highly penetrative, arrow-like wood splinters; warm blood instantly stained the hard, dry mud red.

This thunderous movement of breaking the stockade completely awakened the sleeping Rouran camp, and countless soldiers in disarray crawled out of the tents, frantically searching for weapons.

But what greeted these grassland savages were the repeating crossbows that were filled and emitted a chilling dark blue light in the hands of the three thousand Xia Prefecture elites.

The harsh sound of the machine mechanism ejecting gathered into a death movement, and the dense refined steel crossbow arrows were like a black storm covering the sky and the earth, pouring onto those flesh-and-blood bodies without any cover.

The arrows easily pierced through their thin leather armor and fragile hearts and lungs, bringing up strings of enchanting blood flowers; the Rouran people were even cruelly deprived of the chance to organize a decent defensive formation.

That Rouran general, wearing a large leather robe, stumbled out of the tent with a curved saber, looking at this invincible iron cavalry that was like a god descending to earth, wantonly harvesting lives in his camp with a look of shock.

"Who are you people, actually daring to raid the grassland of our Great Rouran, all come forward and block them for me!"

The general's roar, which changed tone due to extreme fear, appeared pale and powerless on the chaotic battlefield. He tried to use the dignity of a noble to drive those remnant soldiers who had long been scared out of their wits to go up and die.

Lu Ming locked onto this noisy, bloated prey from a distance of thirty steps with eyes as sharp as hawks.

He threw the horse spear

Lu Ming's strong waist and back bent backward like a full-moon bow, the muscles of his right arm bulging high, and with a violent, explosive force meant to pierce the void, he hurled the short spear.

The short spear tore through the air in mid-flight, emitting a shrill, piercing whistle, heading straight for the Rouran commander's chest with the shadow of death.

The Rouran commander didn't even finish the motion of raising his curved saber to block before the short spear pierced through the thick fat on his chest without any resistance; the immense momentum carried his two-hundred-plus-pound body flying into the air.

Accompanied by the teeth-grinding sound of flesh and bone shattering, this arrogant noble was nailed hard to the thick wooden pillar of the watchtower behind him, just like a dog being nailed down.

Dark red visceral fragments mixed with a large amount of blood flowed down the wooden pillar; he twitched in agony in mid-air a few times before his eyes, filled with despair, completely lost their vitality.

The tragic death of their commander completely shattered the last shred of the Rouran garrison's will to resist; the remaining soldiers threw down their weapons and knelt in the blood, kowtowing and begging for mercy.

Lu Ming drove his big black horse to pace slowly among the corpses covering the ground, the horse's hooves stepping on the still-warm flesh and blood, making a nauseating, sticky sound.

"The Pillar State's military order states: only seize the people and livestock, do not occupy an inch of useless pasture; drive all the Rouran old, weak, women, and children in this camp out into the wilderness to fend for themselves."

He took the cloth handkerchief handed over by his deputy and wiped the bloodstains on his hands nonchalantly, his tone devoid of any human pity or compassion.

"As for those able-bodied men who dare to hold bladed iron weapons, leave none alive; chop off all their heads and pile them outside the camp gate, leaving a striking mark for their trash of a Khan."

This group of Xiazhou cavalry displayed a terrifying, synergistic capability unique to those who have undergone devilish training.

The soldiers, in groups of three, skillfully wielded their horizontal sabers to cut through the thick wooden fences trapping the warhorses, forcibly driving and gathering thousands of startled Hequ warhorses and the vast herds of fat cattle and sheep.

In the span of half an hour, this massive horse farm, which once represented Rouran's national strength, was looted so thoroughly that not even a single valuable horse mane remained.

The deputy, holding a list of spoils hastily recorded on a sheepskin scroll with both hands, stepped over the broken tents and hurried to the front of Lu Ming's horse, his weather-beaten face filled with uncontrollable ecstasy.

"Commander, we've dug up the ancestral graves of the Rouran people this time; the brothers discovered an extremely hidden, massive cellar behind the burned-down forging camp."

The deputy was so excited that his voice was trembling slightly; he raised his hand to point at the row of cellar entrances deep in the camp, guarded by heavy troops.

"Not only is it piled high with tens of thousands of catties of unopened, premium iron ore ingots, but we even captured over three hundred top-tier Western Region blacksmiths from the secret chamber, whom the Rouran people had been keeping as slaves."

Upon hearing this massive reversal, enough to change the entire military-industrial landscape of the Northern Frontier, Lu Ming's rugged face instantly bloomed with an extremely satisfied, wild, and domineering smile.

"Heaven is blessing our Xiazhou; with this batch of skilled craftsmen and iron ore, our Xiazhou armory will run day and night, and we can arm at least fifty thousand troops within half a year."

Lu Ming grabbed the sheepskin scroll with one hand and stuffed it into his bosom, tilted his head back, and let out a hearty laugh that shook the vast grassland canopy.

He grabbed his blood-stained iron-forged horse lance and pointed straight at the vast territory to the south that belonged to the Great Zhou Dynasty.

"Sound the horn for retreat; the whole army will escort this immense wealth. Give me everything you've got, and gallop toward Xiazhou overnight. If anyone dares to let a single warhorse fall behind, I'll skin them alive."

A low, highly penetrative ox-horn horn sounded leisurely over the devastated Heishui Horse Grounds; three thousand Xiazhou elite cavalry drove the massive, endless flood of livestock and the teams of bound craftsmen.

This team, laden with the foundation of the enemy's national destiny, was like a terrifying earth dragon constantly devouring and expanding, embarking on the journey home in a grand manner, leaving behind only a ruined camp still burning with soaring flames on this grassland.