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"kill--!!!"

The Chinese soldiers, who had been holding back their energy for a long time, let out a roar that was as loud as a mountain and as powerful as a tsunami!

The three infantry squares surged forward with overwhelming force, crushing the completely collapsing Arab army formation!
The pikemen thrust their spears forward, the swordsmen swung their swords and slashed fiercely, and the archers rained down arrows during the lulls in the charge, further exacerbating the chaos.

The cavalry on both flanks also launched their attack simultaneously. The light cavalry on the left flank, like two agile scimitars, flanked the fleeing enemy, relentlessly reaping their lives with arrows and cutting off their escape routes. The heavy cavalry on the right flank, after a brief acceleration, surged forward like an iron torrent, crashing straight into the densest central area of ​​the Arab army.

Wherever the iron cavalry passed, men and horses fell, and the sound of bones shattering was incessant. The heavy halberds and long spears easily tore through the thin leather armor and flesh, pulverizing everything in their path.

The musketeers stopped about a hundred paces behind the infantry square and fired in three columns at the small groups of enemy soldiers who were still trying to turn back and fight or regroup as they fled.

Although the "bang bang bang" of the gun was not as shocking as the sound of cannons, the penetrating power of lead bullets at close range was equally deadly.

Grenadiers patrolled the edge of the battle line, specifically targeting enemy squads attempting to hold out against attacks from their tents and vehicles. One after another, "bombs" arced into the enemy ranks, exploding into bursts of fire and shrapnel, causing even greater panic.

From the moment the Chinese army began its charge, the battle was completely over, turning into a one-sided pursuit and massacre.

Xue Rengui took the lead, wielding the "Zhenyue Halberd" like a god of war, leading a portion of his elite troops straight towards the rear camp of the Abbasid army.

That was where the supplies were stored and where the main tents of several key generals were located. He needed to capture the leader first, or at least intercept the big fish trying to escape.

Hua Jinxing, stationed at the central command, continuously issued orders, mobilized reserves to fill gaps and expand the gains, while also taking precautions against any possible accidents.

The fleeing Arab soldiers scattered across the hills, crying out as they fled west and north. The Chinese cavalry pursued them like sheep, arrows and sabers constantly claiming lives. The infantry steadily cleared out the remaining resistance within the camp, capturing those who knelt in surrender and seizing weapons, flags, and supplies.

The entire Arab army camp was quickly engulfed by the banners and spears of the Chinese army. Tents were set ablaze, billowing thick smoke. The tens of thousands of troops who had been so invincible yesterday were now utterly routed, their corpses strewn across the battlefield.

The battle began at dawn and by midday, the main fighting had essentially ended. Only sporadic pursuit and mopping-up operations continued.

Surrounded by his personal guards, Hua Jinxing stepped into the devastated Arab army camp. The air was thick with the stench of blood, gunpowder, and burnt meat. Prisoners were being led away in strings, their heads hanging low. His own soldiers were excitedly counting the mountains of spoils—grain, horses, gold and silver utensils, Persian carpets, and even some siege equipment that they hadn't had time to take with them.

Xue Rengui rode up on horseback, carrying a blood-soaked package, his face flushed with excitement from the fierce battle: "General! Your humble servant has fulfilled his mission! He has killed three Abbasid generals and captured one of their deputy governors-general of the East! Here are their heads!"

"Excellent!" Hua Jinxing clapped his hands and laughed: "General Xue is the bravest in the army, and deserves the greatest credit in this battle!"

Soon, preliminary statistics on the battle results were quickly compiled:
Enemy casualties: Preliminary estimates exceed 20,000, most of whom were killed or wounded during the rout or while being pursued.

Approximately 15,000 prisoners were captured, including a large number of wounded soldiers and those who surrendered voluntarily.

More than 8,000 warhorses, both intact and damaged, were captured, along with mountains of various weapons, armor, supplies, and provisions, as well as countless gold and silver treasures, Arab military flags, generals' seals, and other items.

With fewer than a hundred casualties and over a thousand wounded, mostly with minor injuries, it was a resounding and complete victory.

Most importantly, the main Arab field army that had been entrenched outside the city of Merv and threatening the western border of the empire was completely defeated and crippled! In the short term, the Arabs were no longer able to organize an army of such size to advance eastward.

Hua Jinxing gazed at the vast western lands, his heart surging with emotion. This battle not only lifted the siege of Mulu but also marked a perfect start to the empire's western expedition strategy. The new weaponry that His Majesty had painstakingly crafted at the Imperial Workshop had proven its formidable power in actual combat.

Turning to the messenger, he said, "Quickly report the victory to His Highness the Crown Prince and send it to His Majesty in Luoyang by express courier. At the same time, order all armies to quickly clean up the battlefield, treat the wounded, tally the spoils, and reward the troops! After three days of rest... we will discuss the westward advance again!"

"Yes!"

At the top of the city walls of Mulu, countless soldiers and civilians eagerly awaited their arrival. When they saw their own army returning in triumph, prisoners being escorted back in a long line, countless spoils of war piled up, and the great banner bearing the character "Hua" symbolizing victory fluttering in the wind, thunderous cheers once again resounded through the sky and lingered for a long time.

...............

West of Mulu City, on the edge of the battlefield.

The smoke of gunpowder had not yet dissipated, and the stench of blood mixed with the pungent smell of burning gunpowder permeated the dry air.

The entire battlefield resembled a slaughterhouse ravaged by a giant beast, littered with tattered flags, abandoned weapons, the remains of burning tents, and corpses lying in disarray.

Squads of Chinese soldiers were methodically cleaning up the battlefield under the command of their officers.

The corpses need to be buried or burned to prevent the spread of plague. Scattered weapons, armor, and flags need to be collected and organized. Identify the wounded and the dead, and occasionally deliver the final blow to the groaning, critically wounded Arab soldiers to end their suffering.

There were also scattered pieces of valuables among the piles of corpses and the tacitly approved "extra rewards" for the soldiers.

Zhang Shuanzhu was a nineteen-year-old man from Guanzhong, with dark skin and a sturdy build. He had been in the army for just two years and belonged to the Third Light Cavalry Battalion on the left wing of the Western Expeditionary Army. At this moment, he and his comrade-in-arms, Wang Ergou, were carefully searching the outskirts of the devastated Arab Chinese army camp.

Zhang Shuanzhu gripped a standard-issue lance, its tip still stained with dark red blood—the mark of a resisting Arab cavalryman he'd just stabbed during the pursuit. His heart was still pounding, not with fear, but with a complex mix of excitement, lingering dread, and a strange emptiness. This was his first time experiencing such a large-scale battle, and his first…killing.

"Brother Zhu, look at this!"

Wang Ergou, who was also from Guanzhong, was more clever. He bent down and picked up a bulging leather bag from next to a corpse wearing a gorgeous chainmail. He weighed it in his hand and heard a soft metallic clinking sound.

Zhang Shuanzhu moved closer, cautiously scanning his surroundings. In the distance, the centurion was leading a large group of men to inventory the main supplies; for the moment, no one paid attention to their corner.

"Open it and take a look, be careful." Wang Ergou skillfully untied the rope, peeked inside, and his eyes lit up immediately: "Silver coins! And a few gold ones too! Hey, this barbarian officer is quite rich!"

He quickly estimated the value and whispered, "It's worth at least twenty or thirty taels!"

According to military regulations, minor items captured on the battlefield are usually overlooked by superiors, as long as they are not large military weapons or items that clearly belong to military funds. This is considered a reward for the hard work of the brothers who risked their lives.

Zhang Shuanzhu licked his slightly chapped lips, a surge of warmth welling up inside him. Thirty taels of silver was enough to buy several acres of dry land back in his hometown! However, he was more concerned about something else.

"Ergou, don't just look at the money. Look for any medicine bottles, or... parchment scrolls or something."

Zhang Shuanzhu came from an ordinary farming family. No one in his family for three generations had ever been a martial artist. He was able to join the light cavalry because of the strength he had developed since childhood and his good horsemanship.

After enlisting, he relied on his meager monthly military pay and leftover food to grit his teeth and buy the cheapest "blood-strengthening powder" to barely manage to develop some qi sensation in his ancestral farming skills, reaching the threshold for practicing the basic "Long Fist Heart Method," but progress was slow.

Seeing that one of his comrades, whose family had some savings, was about to break through to the third-rate realm with the help of elixirs and a fragment of the "Raging Bull Strength" manual, he was extremely anxious. Battlefield spoils were one of the important ways for low-ranking soldiers like him to obtain cultivation resources.

Upon hearing this, Wang Ergou suppressed his excitement at finding the money and began to carefully search the corpse and its surroundings. Unfortunately, aside from some loose silver coins and a well-preserved curved sword, he found neither the elixir nor the secret manual he had been hoping for.

"Pah, you poor wretch!"

Wang Ergou spat in disappointment, but still quickly divided the silver into two portions, one for himself and one for Zhang Shuanzhu, stuffing them into his pockets. He wrapped the curved knife in a rag, preparing to hand it over. This was clearly a weapon, and keeping it would be too risky; it was better to hand it over and earn a small merit.

The two continued their search. Passing through an area ravaged by artillery fire, the scene became even more horrific. Severed limbs and mangled remains lay mixed in with charred mud and broken pieces of wood; the air was thick with the stench of burning flesh, in addition to the stench of blood. The heavy tracks and deep recoil craters left by several artillery shells were clearly visible.

Zhang Shuanzhu looked at an Arab soldier who had been directly hit by a solid shot—if he could still be called a "soldier"—with only half of his charred torso and bits of flesh splattered several feet away. He couldn't help but shudder and subconsciously moved away from the area.

"Brother Zhu, you know... this cannon is fucking terrifying."

Wang Ergou, still shaken, whispered, "I was on the flank following the charge, and even from a distance, I was terrified. Look at all this..."

Pointing to another area riddled with shrapnel, where more than a dozen corpses lay scattered, each riddled with bloody holes, like tattered sacks pierced by countless iron pellets: "If these had landed in our cavalry ranks..."

Zhang Shuanzhu nodded heavily, his grip on his lance tightening. He recalled the awe he felt before the charge, seeing the dark muzzles of the cannons spewing flames and thick smoke from the earthen slope.

The sound wasn't like thunder, nor like drums; it was a dull thud, a direct blow to the chest, as if freezing one's blood. Then, the enemy ranks in the distance appeared to be torn apart and crushed by an invisible giant hand. What martial arts, what courage—before that earth-shattering roar and the all-sweeping iron bullets, they seemed utterly laughable.

"I heard the centurion boast about it while drinking,"

Zhang Shuanzhu lowered his voice: "These cannons, and the muskets in our camp, were all made by those 'physicians' from the Institute of Crafts. They say they used some new type of gunpowder, which is extremely powerful. Ordinary armor will be shattered with a single shot. Even those who have practiced martial arts will be crippled if hit by a solid shot."

Wang Ergou clicked his tongue: "Does that mean that in future wars, we martial arts practitioners will be useless? We'll just have to rely on firing cannons?"

"That's not necessarily true."

Zhang Shuanzhu shook his head. He at least knew a few more characters than the completely illiterate Wang Ergou, and occasionally overheard the veterans chatting: "The centurion said that artillery is powerful, but it's cumbersome, inconvenient to move, and can't fire very quickly. Muskets are slow to load, inaccurate at long range, and easily overwhelmed by cavalry at close range. When it comes to close combat and chaotic battles, we still have to rely on our swords and spears, and on the strength and skills we've honed. And..."

"The centurion also said that the truly powerful generals, who are said to have protective qi, have incredibly fast reactions and are not necessarily afraid of cannons; at least they can dodge them. It's people like us who are unlucky."

These words made Wang Ergou feel a little better, but when he looked at the horrific scars left by the shelling, his eyes were still filled with awe. Ordinary people, even trained soldiers who had seen blood, were still as insignificant as ants in the face of such weapons that were beyond comprehension.

The two men bypassed a cluster of burning tents and arrived at the relatively intact rear camp area. There were many prisoners here, being led away in strings. Zhang Shuanzhu saw several of his comrades surrounding some wounded Arab soldiers, seemingly arguing about something. Upon inquiring, he learned they were fighting over a silver necklace, which appeared to be a talisman, hanging around the neck of one of the wounded soldiers.

"Alright, alright, stop fighting. According to the old rules, whoever sees it first gets it, and the others get something else."

An old soldier who looked like a squad leader stepped in to smooth things over, and casually took a copper kettle inlaid with turquoise from another wounded soldier's arms and tossed it to the green recruit who was watching eagerly nearby.

Zhang Shuanzhu and Wang Ergou didn't join the crowd; they were more concerned with their actual gains. After searching for a while longer, under a collapsed tent, Wang Ergou finally made a new discovery—a broken earthenware jar from which rolled out several brown pills, about the size of longan fruits, emitting a strange medicinal fragrance!
"It's a pill!"

Wang Ergou exclaimed in surprise, carefully picked it up, sniffed it, and handed it to Zhang Shuanzhu: "Brother Zhu, smell it, isn't it stronger than the 'Blood Strengthening Powder' we bought?"

Zhang Shuanzhu took it, examined it carefully, and then smelled it. He didn't know much about elixirs, but the aroma of this medicine was indeed much stronger and purer than that of "Blood Strengthening Powder".

"It might be a healing medicine used by the Arabs. Don't eat things you don't recognize. Keep it safe and ask the doctor or a knowledgeable veteran when you get back."

Just then, the sound of a gong signaling assembly came from afar. The initial cleanup of the battlefield was about to come to an end, and all units were about to withdraw to their temporary camps to rest, take stock of their numbers and spoils.

On the way back to camp, Zhang Shuanzhu and Wang Ergou followed behind the main group, quietly calculating their gains as they walked.

Besides the bag of silver coins which they split equally, each estimated to receive about fifteen taels, there were also a few pieces of gold and silver jewelry, plus a few unidentified pills, making it a very fruitful haul.

More importantly, according to the military merit system, participating in a major victory of this scale, beheading or capturing the enemy (with the witness of a comrade or superior) will earn basic merit points.

Zhang Shuanzhu's killing of the cavalryman should qualify as a "decapitation strike," and while Wang Ergou didn't directly kill anyone, his participation in the pursuit and search also qualifies him for "military service." These merit points can be accumulated and used to exchange for higher-level martial arts manuals, elixirs, and even promotions in military rank! (End of Chapter)