Chapter 35: All Attributes Break Through 900 Points

Zhu Ying charged forward on horseback, slashing through enemies.

He kept killing.

With his current overwhelming attribute power, he had far surpassed ordinary men—though not a match for ten thousand, Zhu Ying certainly possessed the strength of a thousand.

Even if surrounded by a thousand enemies, Zhu Ying could still break out.

Of course.

If a thousand archers fired from a set distance, that would still be dangerous.

Under Zhu Ying’s leadership,

several thousand Ming soldiers also fought fiercely and fearlessly, ruthlessly crushing the fleeing Tartars and slaughtering those who had lost their morale.

In less than half an hour of battle,

the ground was littered with corpses and thousands of riderless warhorses.

“Host’s total attributes surpassed 800 points. Reward: one common treasure chest.”

“Host’s total attributes surpassed 900 points. Reward: one common treasure chest.”

The interface prompted.

After this battle,

Zhu Ying did not know how many Tartars he had killed—conservatively over two hundred, possibly more—this was true full-power combat, no holding back.

This level of combat power deeply won the trust of every soldier under his command.

“Total attributes nearing a thousand.”

“When total attributes break a thousand, I wonder what changes they’ll bring.” Zhu Ying’s face broke into a faint smile.

But

Zhu Ying did not linger—he snapped back to awareness and scanned the battlefield.

The battlefield was strewn with corpses.

Nine out of ten were Tartar corpses; scattered across the field were warhorses.

Standing tall were thousands of blood-soaked Ming cavalrymen, each breathing heavily, some still chasing fleeing Tartars.

“Do not pursue the desperate.”

Zhu Ying shouted loudly.

Hearing this,

numerous Battalion Commanders shouted in unison: “Garrison Commander’s order: do not pursue the desperate.”

Under the control of the Battalion Commanders, the pursuing soldiers all turned back.

“Brothers.”

“This group of Tartars was only a scattered detachment—this place is not safe to remain.”

“Listen to my orders.”

“Quickly treat the wounded; for the fallen, carry them onto horses and tie them down—even in death, I, Zhu Ying, will not let their bones lie abandoned in this foreign land.”

“I, Zhu Ying, promise you—alive or dead—I will bring my brothers home.” Zhu Ying commanded the Battalion Commanders and surrounding soldiers with solemn gravity.

In this foreign land, having killed so many Tartars,

if the soldiers’ corpses were left behind, Zhu Ying could imagine the cruel treatment they would suffer.

To let comrades-in-arms, who had shared life and death with him, be desecrated on foreign soil—he could not allow it.

Hearing Zhu Ying’s words,

the surrounding soldiers looked at him with new eyes—more reverent, more convinced, and also with genuine heartfelt approval.

At this moment,

they understood the young Garrison Commander’s unwavering bond with his comrades.

This was worth dying for.

“We obey the Garrison Commander’s order.”

All surrounding soldiers shouted in unison, their voices loud, filled with recognition and trust in Zhu Ying.

“Zhang Wu, Wei Quan.”

Zhu Ying called out again.

“Your orders, Garrison Commander,” both replied immediately.

“Do not abandon the Tartar warhorses—these horses are already tamed; take them all. We can rotate mounts later.”

“Gather every arrow from the Tartar corpses—do not waste them.”

“Get every brother moving—we must withdraw within one incense stick’s time, or we’ll be caught by Tartar reinforcements.”

“Also, among these Tartar corpses, some will be feigning death—be careful not to be wounded. If you spot one, kill him immediately.” Zhu Ying spoke with grave tone.

“Your orders are received.”

Both replied at once.

At least three to four thousand warhorses were scattered across the battlefield.

Nearly four thousand Tartar corpses lay on the ground.

The results of this battle were outstanding.

After giving all orders,

looking at the chaos around the battlefield,

seeing his own blood-soaked armor, Zhu Ying felt a moment of daze.

“Before I knew it, I’ve been enlisted for nearly five months.”

“Half a year is almost here.”

“From a commoner to now, acting Garrison Commander.”

“If I survive this ordeal, I can at least be confirmed as Garrison Commander—after that, if I keep harassing the Tartars, battle merits will come easily.”

“And during this process, my total attributes will surely surpass one thousand.”

But

“I must still do everything I can to bring back the brothers who follow me.”

“Once we eliminate the Tartar cavalry, what follows will be much easier.” Zhu Ying thought silently to himself.

After one incense stick’s time,

“Garrison Commander.”

“All preparations are complete.”

“We can withdraw at any moment,” several Battalion Commanders stepped forward to report.

“Good.”

Zhu Ying nodded, scanning the field—the soldiers had all mounted their horses; the Tartar warhorses were herded together; the fallen soldiers were tied to the mounts.

“Issue the order: continue north,” Zhu Ying commanded loudly.

“We obey the Garrison Commander’s order.”

All soldiers shouted in unison.

Then,

Zhu Ying spurred his horse forward, charging northward again.

The soldiers followed in his wake.

As the Ming soldiers departed, the battlefield was left with nothing but corpses and countless dead horses.

Extremely bloody and cruel.

Less than one incense stick’s time after Zhu Ying’s departure,

thud.

thud-thud-thud.

From the south,

thousands of Tartar cavalry surged forward.

When they saw the blood-soaked battlefield ahead,

the lead Tartar commander raised his hand: “Stop.”

All Tartar soldiers looked ahead—every face turned grim.

“How many Ming soldiers were there?” the Tartar Myriarch asked in a low voice.

“R-Report, Myriarch,”

“The Ming force numbered around five thousand… no, more than five thousand—at least seven or eight thousand.”

A surviving Tartar Battalion Commander replied, trembling.

“Seven or eight thousand?”

The Tartar Myriarch’s face twisted with fury: “My five thousand brave warriors couldn’t hold them for half an hour? Only fewer than a thousand escaped?”

“Myriarch,”

“The Ming are strong.”

“Their commander is a demon—he fears neither arrows nor blades; hundreds of our men fell to him alone.”

“And… and the Five-Thousand Commander,”

“He killed him too.”

“And those Ming soldiers—they were all mad, fearless of death…”

The escaped battalion commander stammered to report.

“Shut up.”

The myriarch coldly barked.

After scanning the scene, he shouted: “Check if any of our men are still alive.”

“Yes.”

Dozens of Tartar soldiers dismounted and ran toward the bloody battlefield.

At that moment!

A Tartar soldier arrived carrying their battle standard.

“Myriarch.”

“This… our battle standard has characters left by the Ming troops,” the Tartar soldier said respectfully, holding out the flag to the myriarch.

The myriarch took it and immediately shouted: “Is there anyone here who can read Han characters?”

“I can read them.”

A Tartar soldier immediately stepped forward.

……

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(End of Chapter)