Summoning from Another World: A Grand Ambition

Yuchi Weile stood atop Magang Peak, his black gold lion-head armor gleaming in the sunlight, his face covered by a demon's jaws, only his eyes, cold as an icy abyss, visible.

He slowly raised the black gold spear in his hand, its tip pointing towards the heart of the barbarian army. Before the echo of the signal cannon had faded, a thunderous roar erupted from his throat:

"Dragon Riders—!"

"Yuchi Wei's skill, Martial God, Charge and Activate"

Strength: 106, Command: 93, Intelligence: 85, Politics: 83

rush ahead:

Wielding a cold blade in fury, he traversed the battlefield, his sword bathed in blood as he shattered the vast sky.

With spears, I plucked countless corpses, turning them into soil; with blades, I cut down hordes of villains, their bones forming walls.

His horse galloped through the dust and smoke, swallowing the world; he charged into the enemy ranks, sweeping across the eight directions.

Half a lifetime of fierce battles, frost has etched its mark on my armor; a single roar shakes the heavens and overturns the world.

Effect 1: A match for ten thousand men, increases attack power by 6 when activated.

Effect 2: Charge. When activated, attack power +5. When leading troops in a charge, it suppresses enemy morale. When commanding a dragon cavalry, the attack power of the entire army +1.

Effect 3: Intimidation. When activated, it suppresses the opponent's strength by 1-5 points.

Currently, the user has +1 to the Black Gold Spear, +1 to the Warhorse, +5 to the God of War, and +11 to the Charge. Their base attack power has increased from 106 to 124, and the attack power of the entire army has increased by 1.

"Step into formation!!!"

Eight hundred iron cavalrymen responded and sprang into action. At first, they moved slowly like dark clouds, then gradually became like muffled thunder rolling across the ground, and finally formed a steel torrent swooping down from the high ground!

Men clad in black gold chainmail, horses in black iron chainmail, eight hundred lances pointed like a dense forest, their hooves shaking the earth like the collapse of the heavens. Their ferocity was so overwhelming that it silenced the clamor of the battlefield.

When the veteran soldiers of the Eastern Barbarian army saw the black dragon battle flag, they were instantly terrified.

"Dragon Riders! It's the Dragon Riders!" The horrific scene of Huli Hua's 100,000-strong army being slaughtered and routed by 3,000 Dragon Riders instantly ripped through his memory. Fear spread like a plague, and the front lines collapsed before the battle even began.

Yuchi Wei took the lead, his long spear transforming into a black whirlwind, shattering both man and horse in its path.

Eight hundred iron cavalry followed closely behind, like hot blades slicing through fat, piercing the waists and ribs of the barbarian army. Their spears thrust forward, piercing through three layers of enemy formations;

Iron hooves trampled and crushed the wailing sounds of the fallen. A barbarian general tried to form a spear formation to resist, but was instantly struck by the chain of armored horses, his bones breaking.

Li Jianyuan, panting heavily, watched the Xuanjia torrent sweep away all resistance, and a surge of hope for survival welled up within him. He tore off half of the blood-stained battle flag beside him, waved it fiercely towards the sky, and let out a long, hoarse roar:

"God bless Great Xia! The Dragon Riders are mighty and powerful!"

Upon hearing this, the remaining imperial guards felt as if they had received a timely rain, and their determination to launch a desperate counterattack suddenly erupted.

The torrent of steel that the Dragon Cavalry poured down from the high ground became the final straw that broke the morale of the Eastern Barbarian army.

The various Dongyi tribes, which had been able to maintain successive offensives under Nurhaci's command, crumbled instantly in the face of this unparalleled charge.

"Hold on! No retreat! Anyone who disobeys will be executed!" Bayan, the commander of the left wing, roared hoarsely, even wielding his sword to cut down two fleeing soldiers who escaped from his side, in an attempt to stabilize the situation.

However, fear had spread like a plague, and as the soldiers watched the black Grim Reaper behind him grow closer and clearer, their last shred of courage vanished.

They dropped their scimitars, bows and arrows, and even pushed aside the tongzes blocking their way, scattering and fleeing like a flock of frightened sheep.

The routed soldiers trampled each other, their cries and curses filling the air. Many did not die at the hands of the enemy, but fell to the hooves and feet of their own comrades.

Bayana's initial arrogance had long been replaced by boundless fear. He looked at the black gold spear that pierced through the morning mist and headed straight for him, and his heart was pounding with fear.

All achievements and honors were reduced to the instinct for survival at this moment.

He abruptly turned his horse around, whipping its rump wildly, wanting nothing more than to rush onto the pontoon bridge that led to his survival.

However, a dark shadow flashed by like lightning. A dragon rider suddenly appeared from the side, his mount moving with astonishing speed, closing in instantly.

The knight didn't even make any extra movements; he simply used the immense force of his charging horse to smoothly thrust his eighteen-foot lance forward.

"Pfft!"

The spear tip pierced precisely through the seam of Bayan's chest armor, exiting through his chest and bringing with it a large clump of warm blood and broken bones.

Bayan's movements came to an abrupt halt. He looked down in disbelief at the blood-dripping spear tip that had suddenly appeared on his chest, let out a short and mournful scream, and was then flung off his horse by the knight's flick of the wrist.

His obese body crashed heavily into the muddy pool of blood, his eyes still wide open, frozen with endless fear and resentment, staring at the gray sky.

Timur, on the right wing, witnessed the tragic state of Bayan and was terrified. He gathered his remaining hundred or so guards and charged madly toward the edge of the battle line, trying to fight his way out.

However, the Dragon Riders' charging area was extremely wide, and they were quickly surrounded by several squads of heavy cavalry like iron pincers.

In the chaos, a sergeant of the Dragon Cavalry Battalion spotted Timur's conspicuous general's helmet plume, roared, and his warhorse reared up. Taking advantage of the momentum of his fall, the heavy lance in his hand transformed into a streak of black light that swept across the entire army!

With a sharp, teeth-grinding sound, Timur's head, which was wearing a neck-protecting helmet, was completely severed!

The headless corpse sat stiffly on the horse, blood from its neck cavity gushing up more than ten feet high like a fountain, drenching the surrounding guards from head to toe.

The head tumbled through the air a few times before landing covered in mud and blood, its face contorted in a grotesque grimace, its expression of terror forever frozen in time.

The Dragon Cavalry's iron hooves did not falter. Like red-hot irons rolling across ice and snow, they rampaged through the already chaotic Eastern Barbarian army.

A burly Dragon Rider charged forward on horseback, facing several Eastern Barbarian spearmen who were forming a defensive line ahead. Without slowing down, he held his spear level like a venomous dragon emerging from its lair.

With two muffled thuds, the two enemy soldiers standing side by side were strung together on the spear shaft like candied hawthorns!

With a roar, he forcefully lifted the lance impaled on the two men, flinging their still convulsing bodies several feet away, knocking over a group of enemy soldiers behind them.

On the other side, a Dragon Cavalry soldier swept his lance horizontally, the sharp blade drawing a perfect crescent-shaped arc of cold light in the air.

Three Dongyi infantrymen, who were trying to slash the horse's legs with their scimitars, felt a chill on their necks and their vision spun as they saw their headless bodies collapsing to their knees.

Wherever their iron hooves trod, hell on earth was ravaged. The heavily armored warhorses, weighing over a thousand pounds, pounded the ground at high speed, and the sound of bones shattering was incessant.

Some Dongyi soldiers were knocked away head-on, their bones broken; others were knocked down from the side and repeatedly trampled by the hooves of the galloping horses, turning into a pile of minced meat.

The Dongyi soldiers' counterattacks appeared weak and ineffective. Their scimitars and battle axes struck the heavy black armor of the Dragon Riders, mostly only sending up a trail of sparks and leaving shallow white marks. The recoil, however, caused their hands to split open and their weapons to fall from their grasp.

Even the bravest warriors who dared to thrust with spears were often deflected by the thick armor plates, or could only penetrate an inch before being unable to continue.

The Dragon Cavalry's lances, however, were terrifying weapons specifically designed to penetrate armor. With their unparalleled sharpness and the combined force of man and horse, the simple leather armor, and even some of the iron armor, worn by the Eastern Barbarian soldiers were easily pierced and torn apart as if made of paper.

The 50,000-strong central army personally led by Nurhaci, which was originally the most well-organized and had the highest morale, was also cut off in the middle by this black iron torrent, and its formation was thrown into chaos.

He watched as his bravest warriors fell like straws before the enemy's iron cavalry, and as the black dragon banner charged through his own ranks as if they were empty. A chill ran from his feet to the top of his head.

Horror and despair quickly consumed the hatred and ambition in his heart.

He once considered himself a mighty eagle of the grasslands, but now he felt as small and powerless as a fledgling bird in a storm. This overwhelming power completely shattered all his pride and psychological defenses.

He tried to shout, but his voice was drowned out by the noise of the battlefield. He waved his command flag, but no one paid any attention.

The rout was swift and devastating; soldiers fled in all directions, crying out in despair. Commanders at all levels were barely able to protect themselves and were utterly incapable of organizing any effective resistance.

Nurhaci, with his personal guards fighting desperately to protect him, retreated repeatedly, watching helplessly as the elite troops he had personally trained melted away like an avalanche, his heart bleeding.