I will make Qin Shi Huang immortal in the Great Qin Dynasty.

Meng Tian stood beneath the banner that fluttered high in the center of the army.

His gaze fell on the iron-gray tide that was rapidly advancing in the distance.

The dust raised by the simultaneous charge of 100,000 cavalry had already formed a low-hanging wall of mist between heaven and earth.

It obscured most of the horizon.

All that remained was that surging, ever-advancing black line.

It was as if the grassland itself was surging towards them.

His hand holding the reins didn't move, and his breathing didn't quicken.

They simply watched quietly as the torrent drew ever closer.

Meng Tian's voice was calm, "Send out the heavy cavalry."

The messenger responded and rode off to deliver the order to the ranks in the open space.

That group had no warhorses, only five hundred figures encased in heavy iron armor.

Like five hundred silent, cast-iron statues, they stand motionless on the grassland.

Their bodies were hidden beneath layers of iron plates.

There wasn't an inch of bare skin between the gaps in the helmet and the kneeplate.

The heavy mask covered most of his face, leaving only a narrow slit in his vision.

The armor he wore weighed over 500 jin (approximately 250 kg).

The iron sheets are connected layer by layer with high-quality steel rivets.

Two iron hammers and a long iron chain lay quietly on the ground nearby.

Each hammer weighs 800 jin (approximately 400 kg) and its surface has been repeatedly forged and quenched.

The chain is coiled around the end of the hammer handle.

When the order came, the people sprang into action.

They bent down and picked up the hammer from the ground.

I wrapped the chain around my arm twice and adjusted it to a comfortable position.

Then straighten up, take a step, and walk forward step by step.

Their pace was neither fast nor slow, and their iron boots made a dull, heavy sound as they trod on the grass.

Five hundred men slowly deployed along a not-so-straight battle line.

There was a distance of several feet between them.

Some people tried swinging the chains a few times as they walked around, just to warm up.

Two iron hammers began to slowly rotate at his sides.

It then got faster and faster, changing from a slow spin to a rapid rotation.

The sound of the wind it created was like a taut string, humming louder and louder.

The hammerhead left blurry afterimages as it spun around.

The Xiongnu cavalry were closing in faster and faster.

The cavalrymen at the front could already make out the outlines of the figures opposite them.

Those tall human figures were much taller than ordinary cavalrymen.

The armor was completely covering them.

He held a strange, long, thin weapon in his hand.

There are two large, dark spheres at the top.

Someone glanced at those things instinctively.

I think it was probably some kind of heavy battering ram or a siege hammer mounted on a cart.

But those "hammers" are currently in people's hands, held above their heads and slowly rotating.

"Just for show," someone muttered. "A charade. Once they get close, they'll see what a real warrior is."

But his horse's hooves did not stop.

Once a charge of 100,000 cavalrymen begins, no one can stop it alone.

Even if the people in the front row want to slow down, the people behind them will push them forward.

Like a silt caught in a torrent, there was no choice, nor time to choose.

The distance is getting closer and closer.

The spinning hammers began to gradually pull out blurry arcs from their slow speed.

Two intersecting dark arcs of light extended outwards from each person's side.

Each one rotates at a slightly different rhythm.

However, it creates an overall undulating rhythm that is sometimes fast and sometimes slow.

Someone began to loosen the chains completely.

Expand the rotation radius of the two hammers to the maximum.

The iron chains rattled and swung in the air, creating sharp gusts of wind.

The hammer left visible trails in the air as it swept across the ground.

Even the tips of the grass were flattened by the airflow, as if smoothed out by an invisible hand.

Then they crashed in.

The moment the front-line Xiongnu cavalry made contact with the slowly advancing heavy cavalry.

The spinning hammer was like a giant, open scraper.

It swept over the first wave of warhorses that came towards them.

A spinning iron hammer swept across the chest of the first warhorse as it galloped away.

The hammer shattered the horse's breastbone and ribs the instant it made contact.

The warhorse, weighing seven or eight hundred pounds, was lifted off the ground and into the air.

The cavalrymen on horseback crashed into the densely charging formation behind them.

The cavalryman was still flying with his mouth open.

They hadn't even realized what had happened.

He was already being swept to the side by the tail of the second iron hammer in mid-air.

The person's body was bent into an abnormal arc upon impact.

It was scattered in the dust along with broken bones and shattered armor plates.

Then came the second and the third.

Those five hundred spinning windmills looked like harvester blades being pushed into a wheat field.

Wherever it went, people and horses were cut apart, lifted up, and flung away.

With each swing of the hammer, a new cloud of debris is created.

Blood mist spread through the air, like a thin red veil covering the battlefield.

The iron chain churned and whipped the air on both sides as it spun.

Those cavalrymen who couldn't dodge in time were dragged off their horses, saddle and all.

Then, in the next rotation, it will be knocked away, without even giving it a chance to escape.

The Hun cavalrymen charging at the forefront finally understood what those weapons that looked like "decorative items" actually were.

But they no longer had time to think about it.

The people behind continued to surge forward.

The people in the front row couldn't stop even if they wanted to.

They could only watch helplessly as the spinning iron blade drew ever closer.

Then it was swept into it.

Then I couldn't see anything anymore.

Some people tried to get around the spinning hammers from either side.

But the spacing between those five hundred people was just right.

This prevents the hammer from accidentally injuring a companion while it's spinning.

It also wouldn't leave enough gaps for the charging cavalry.

Those cavalrymen who tried to squeeze through the gaps were often struck in the waist by iron hammers that spun from the side just as they were about to break through.

The entire row of people looked as if they had been sifted through a sieve, with the figures at the gaps being gradually erased.

The corpses of men and horses began to fly up from the sky intermittently.

Cavalrymen struck by the iron hammer would fly a distance through the air.

Sometimes they fly several body lengths before landing on the ground.

The wrecked bodies of the warhorses were even heavier and could not fly that far.

However, it would crash into the ranks of cavalry behind it upon landing.

It knocked down the people behind it as well.

The corpses tumbled in mid-air.

Even after losing consciousness, the limbs remained in a posture as if trying to grab something.

After a brief arc of flight, it fell back into the dust and remained motionless.

The Hun cavalry's formation completely collapsed in front of five hundred heavy cavalry.

It cracks, breaks, and scatters outwards from the center.

Those cavalrymen at the forefront had already been mostly cut off by the spinning iron blades.

The cavalry behind were still being pushed forward.

But they had no idea what was happening ahead.

The people in the front row want to stop, but the people in the back row are pushing.

The person in the middle was trapped in the crowd and unable to turn around.

The men on both sides tried to go around but ran into an even denser number of cavalry on the flanks.

The advance of the five hundred heavy cavalry did not stop.

They continued to move forward step by step.

It was as if the 100,000 cavalrymen in front of him were not living flesh and blood.

Instead, it was a moving meadow being harvested.

The hammer was covered in bits of flesh and blood as it spun.

The chains were covered with fragments of armor plates and broken bowstrings.

The black hammerhead was stained dark red.

Someone shouted, the voice muffled from the gap in the iron mask.

The sound carried an almost savage sense of exhilaration and unbridled joy.

It was like a wild beast that had been caged for too long finally smelling blood.

The sound echoed across the chaotic battlefield.

It was heard by people nearby and then passed on to people even further away.

Amidst the sounds of spinning chains and clashing weapons.

There was a brief thud, which was then drowned out by an even louder collision and screams.

The heavy cavalrymen moved forward step by step on the ground covered with scraps of flesh and severed limbs.

The soil beneath their feet was soaked and softened by the blood.

But none of them stopped.

No one looked down at the shapeless things at their feet.

He simply continued to walk at a steady pace.

The strangulation circle formed by that rotating iron blade.

They pushed deeper and deeper into the enemy lines, little by little.