Who killed the Ming Dynasty?

A tall soldier from the Beijing garrison rushed out from the chaos of battle.

His towering figure, over six feet tall, loomed like a mountain, his bronze face sharply defined, and a fierce aura emanating from his brows—

It was none other than Zhang Wu, the renowned "Iron Spear Zhang" in the army.

Thinking of his fellow villagers who had died tragically under the Tartars' swords, his eyes burned with intense hatred.

His eyes were fixed on the enemy general Turhong, a sinister smile spreading across his lips:

"You Tartar, today is your death day!"

The dark iron spear suddenly trembled violently, its tip piercing straight into Turhong's heart.

Turgun hastily raised his blade, but was a fraction of a second too late.

puff!

The spearhead pierced through the armor plate and plunged deep into the chest!

Turgun's head suddenly dropped, and the blood gushing from his mouth instantly stained his beard red, filling the air with a strong stench of blood.

His wide-open eyes quickly dimmed and eventually lost all their luster.

"Defeated by those southern barbarians? I refuse to accept it!..."

He murmured softly, his body trembling slightly, yet he stubbornly stood still, refusing to fall.

In the blink of an eye, several cold, sharp beams of light tore through the air.

puff!

A spear pierced through his waist and abdomen, the tip of the spear emerging from his back, dripping with blood.

laugh!

Another spear pierced his right leg tendon, pinning him firmly to the spot.

Turgun's kneecap cracked with a dull thud, and his heavy body collapsed to his knees.

Just as he was about to raise his head, a blood-stained iron spear pierced his throat with lightning speed—blood spurted out like an arrow.

The spear tip pierced his body, pinning him firmly to the ground.

The tall body convulsed violently a few times before stiffening completely.

Zhang Wu's face suddenly flushed red, and he raised his arm and shouted, and the response came from all sides like a tidal wave.

Countless spears shot into the sky with a whoosh, their tassels dancing like boiling waves of blood!

"Kill the Tartars—!"

"May the Great Ming Dynasty prosper!!"

A deafening roar exploded, instantly engulfing the entire battlefield.

The cavalry led by Turhong were left with corpses strewn across the field, and the entire army was wiped out.

A few wounded horses struggled among the pile of corpses, letting out mournful neighs.

On a distant high slope, Bahana stood frozen in place, his face ashen, his palms icy cold, and cold sweat trickling down his spine.

His sharp eyes instantly captured the situation on the battlefield—

On the north, east, and west sides, the Ming army was arrayed in a strict formation, with swords and spears like a forest;

Only on the south side, there is a gap.

Without further hesitation, he abruptly waved his hand and roared at his personal guards:

"Retreat! Break out to the south!"

Before the roar had even faded, the man had already swooped down the slope like an arrow released from a bow, galloping southward at breakneck speed.

Meanwhile, a fierce wind howled atop the mountain.

Zhu Cilang's black cloak fluttered in the wind as he gave the order to the messenger:

"Order Governor Jiang Yueguang and Earl Gao Jie of Xingping to act according to the plan without fail!"

"Your humble servant obeys!"

The messenger's armor clattered, and he leaped onto his saddle like a leopard, cracking his whip and shooting down the mountain in a cloud of dust.

Zhu Cilang turned around and his gaze fell on Lü Daqi, the governor of the Beijing garrison.

Lu Daqi was gazing at the battlefield below the mountain when he sensed the gaze and immediately cupped his hands in a gesture of waiting.

"Minister Lü, issue the order to the three armies to advance and suppress the enemy according to plan!"

"Your subject obeys!"

The mountain wind howled, causing his cloak to flutter wildly.

As the last torch was extinguished in the night, Lü Daqi's warhorse stood tall and neighed in front of the Beijing garrison.

He reined in his restless warhorse, his gaze sweeping across the disciplined army, and then gave the order:

"Issue an edict to all guards: pursue with all your might, and whoever kills a Jurchen white-armored soldier will be rewarded with one hundred taels of silver; whoever captures Bahana will be rewarded with one thousand taels of silver."

"Any deserter who refuses to advance—I request that he be executed immediately with the imperial sword!"

The general's command was like thunder, echoing through the ranks.

"Yes, sir!"

A deafening roar, like a tsunami.

Countless gun barrels slammed to the ground with a sudden, dull thud, causing the sand and gravel beneath their feet to tremble.

"Clang—!"

Lu Daqi drew his longsword from its sheath with a fierce thud, its cold light slashing down from the sky—

"Set off!"

Four thousand iron cavalrymen sprang up in response, their hooves pounding the ground, followed closely by infantry, and the earth groaned.

A single iron spear cleaved through the blood mist once more, and Zhang Wu, leading the charge, his imposing figure hurtling towards the direction of the Qing army's retreat.

The terrain ahead gradually steepened, the mountain ridge rose, and the dense forest branches pierced through the mist, shattering the moonlight into fragments on the ground.

Lu Daqi pulled on the reins and slowed the horse down.

A scout emerged from the billowing dust, blood still dripping from his saddle.

"Reporting to the Commander-in-Chief, Bahana has fled to Zuowangzhuang and has already entered General Huang's ambush zone."

Lu Daqi's expression softened, and he felt much more at ease, knowing that the plan was more than halfway complete. He waved his hand and shouted:

"Order the left and right flanks to advance! Join forces with General Huang to encircle and annihilate the enemy, leaving no one alive."

Inside the narrow passage of Zuowangzhuang, the thin mist was trampled away by Bahana's iron hooves.

Sudden--

"Hook-sickle warriors—rise!"

Huang Degong's roar shattered the valley.

Whoa!

In an instant, a hundred cold rays of light emanated from beneath the decaying leaves.

The iron chains stretched taut along the ground, and three rows of hooked spears emerged from the cliffs, bushes, and crevices, specifically targeting the horses' shins.

The Qing cavalry at the forefront didn't even have time to scream in agony—

The cracking sound of warhorses' kneecaps shattering mingled with splattering blood. The rear guard, unable to stop in time, crashed into the rolling horses and men in front, the dull thuds of broken necks echoing incessantly.

Bahana's central army was instantly twisted into a bloody vortex.

The narrow valley instantly transformed into a slaughterhouse, with the carcasses of dead horses blocking the path and wounded soldiers howling in agony beneath the iron hooves.

The white-armored soldier, who was not yet dead, had just drawn his waist knife when his armor was pierced by a barrage of wolf-tooth arrows raining down from the high slopes on both sides.

Huang Degong stood on the boulder at the pass, pressing his iron spear down—

"Fire in rapid succession!"

Gunpowder smoke shot out like a black dragon, and lead bullets tore through thin armor and pierced flesh.

A single volley of gunfire wiped out half a Qing army unit!

Desperate Manchu cavalrymen attempted to dismount and fight on foot up the slope, only to have their brains splattered when they were struck by rolling boulders and logs.

The wailing and clanging of metal in the valley almost tore the fog apart.

Surrounded by his personal guards, Bahana managed to deflect a stray arrow, but his helmet was dented from the impact, and the shock made his ears ring.

Suddenly, a deafening battle cry erupted from behind.

Bahana suddenly turned around and looked around.

Lü Daqi's elite cavalry, leading the Beijing garrison, charged into his rearguard with overwhelming force, raising clouds of dust.

The sabers slashed mercilessly, and the spears thrust like a forest.

Zhang Wu, a soldier from the Beijing garrison, charged his horse close to Bahana and thrust his spear straight into his chest.

Bahana swung his knife to parry, but his strength was exhausted, and the tip of his spear pierced his arm armor, drawing blood.

"Warriors of Horqin! Follow me and tear open the breach!"

Bahana's knife handle was slick with blood.

The wound on his left arm was so deep that the bone was visible, and every time he swung the knife, it tore his muscles apart.

"Master... let's go!"

A Khorchin soldier, riddled with arrows, roared and charged into the Ming army's spear formation—

Despite the four spears piercing his abdomen, he clung tightly to the spear shaft.

The gap is fleeting—

Bahana's eyes were bloodshot as he spurred his horse and trampled over the backs of his personal guards.

The warhorse leaped up, stepping on the warm intestines, and threw him into the gap made of corpses.

Two other guards rushed in from the side. One of them used his shoulder to block the knife that was aimed at the back of Bahana's neck, while the other was blasted half of his head off by a bullet, and red and white blood splattered all over Bahana.

The last moment he looked back—

He saw Huang Degong's black banner planted at the summit, the tip of his spear, stained with brain marrow, pointing towards his throat.

Bahana felt a chill in his heart, knowing that all was lost and his only option was to flee.

He finally led a dozen or so remaining riders and broke through the encirclement.

The morning mist quickly swallowed the disheveled figures of more than ten riders, leaving only a winding trail of blood in the mud.