Late Ming Dynasty: Summoning players from Liaodong to support the Ming Dynasty

Chapter 166 A Crushing Defeat! Huang Taiji Vows in Blood to Kill Chu Ze

The north wind howled, carrying large clumps of snow powder as it swept across the desolate, deep forest.

The poisonous fog and explosions of Wild Wolf Gully have been left far behind.

More than 20,000 warhorses galloped wildly through knee-deep snow, their hooves shattering the ice and making a chaotic, muffled sound.

Huang Taiji lay prone on the horse's back.

He switched to an ordinary Mongolian horse; the magnificent black horse had long since died in the poisonous fog of Wild Wolf Gully.

The cold wind seeped into the bones through the gaps in the broken armor plates.

The bright yellow steel lamellar armor that symbolized the supreme authority of the Great Khan was now riddled with holes and covered with quicklime, chili powder, and nauseating filth.

The filth froze into a hard, solid ice shell in the frigid air, clinging tightly to his flesh.

With each jolt of the warhorse through the knee-deep snow, the edges of its riddled armor cut sharply into Huang Taiji's frozen flesh, sending shivers of excruciating pain through his nerves.

Huang Taiji paid no heed to the excruciating torment.

His rough hands gripped the reins tightly, his knuckles turning a deathly pale white from the extreme force. His cracked fingernails curled outwards, and the blood that seeped out froze instantly into dark purple scabs in the wind.

run!

We must run!

That living Yama named Chu Ze, and that group of reckless madmen who treat life like a game, could pounce out from the dark snowstorm behind them at any moment and snap all of their necks!

The gale, carrying ice shards, lashed his cheeks relentlessly.

"Giddy up! All of you, run faster than I can! Giddy up!"

Huang Taiji's cracked and bleeding lips opened and closed violently, and an extremely unpleasant and hoarse urging sound squeezed out from deep in his throat.

The remaining dozen or so Bayara soldiers stood close around him, protecting him.

These elite assassins of the Great Jin Dynasty had completely lost the strength to even grip their sword hilts.

On the left, a soldier in white armor had half of his cheek burned off with quicklime, leaving only a bloody, black hole in his blind left eye. Cold wind rushed in, causing him to convulse violently in pain.

The guard on the right had inhaled enough chili powder and poison gas into his lungs. He spurred his horse to gallop while coughing hysterically. With each breath, he would spit out a mouthful of thick, black blood mixed with pieces of internal organs, leaving shocking red marks on the snow.

The oncoming wind and snow grew increasingly violent, and the swirling snowflakes completely obscured the view.

They ran wildly for more than thirty miles through the desperate situation.

Until the Mongolian horse beneath him was spewing large clumps of white foam from its mouth and nostrils, its heavy breathing drowned out the sound of the wind, and its four hooves went completely limp and slipped, unable to take another step.

Suddenly, a sheltered high ground with a wide view appeared ahead.

"Go up! To the high ground!" Huang Taiji roared, pulling the reins back with all his might.

The Mongolian horse let out an extremely mournful whinny, its front hooves slamming heavily onto the hard, frozen ground, its knees buckling, and it collapsed directly into a deep snowdrift.

The immense inertia flung Huang Taiji's entire body through the air.

He rolled around a dozen times on the hard snow, his back slamming heavily against a protruding, dark rock with a dull thud that made your teeth ache.

The dizzying, suffocating feeling instantly overwhelmed reason.

His internal organs were completely displaced by the violent impact, and a mouthful of scalding blood surged into his throat, which he swallowed.

"Damn it!"

"master!"

Several Bayara screamed in terror and tumbled off their exhausted warhorses. They scrambled into the snowdrift and desperately pulled the snow-covered Huang Taiji out of the snowdrift with all their might.

A fierce wind howled along the edge of the sheltered highlands, whipping up a pale white snow powder that slammed against the dark rock walls. The extreme cold froze all sounds, leaving only the heavy, broken breaths of the remaining soldiers piercing the wind.

"Great Khan! Hold on!" The Bayara commander's knees buckled, and he knelt heavily on the hard, frozen ground. He clung tightly to Huang Taiji's arm, his voice hoarse and strained, sounding extremely distressing. His once fierce face was covered with a mixture of black and red blood and grime, and his eyes were filled with extreme terror and despair from surviving such a catastrophe.

Huang Taiji gritted his teeth, his rough hands exerting force to push away the commander's arms that were supporting him. He endured the excruciating pain, his legs trembling violently in the knee-deep snow, and staggered to his feet.

The extremely cold air, carrying a sharp, piercing chill, rushed wildly into his lungs through his wide-open mouth and nose.

"Cough! Cough cough cough!" Huang Taiji clutched his chest tightly with one hand, bursting into a heart-wrenching cough. Each tremor pulled at the torn flesh, and two thick, dark bloodstains spilled uncontrollably from the corners of his mouth.

He turned around with difficulty, his bloodshot eyes looking down at the remnants of the Jin army who had escaped with him.

awful.

Terrible.

The fierce wind dispersed the snow and mist, revealing the horrific scene to Huang Taiji. Of the original 20,000 elite troops of the Upper Three Banners, fewer than 15,000 were still alive and had followed him out of the poisonous hell of Wild Wolf Gully.

Five thousand of the most elite warriors of the Great Jin Dynasty were forever left in that stinking canyon filled with fermented excrement and quicklime, becoming the spoils of war for that group of madmen to skin, dismember, and plunder.

None of the survivors were unharmed.

They were routed, their once-proud steel scimitars long gone. Their thick, warm cotton armor was torn to shreds in the chaotic trampling and explosions, fluttering forlornly in the cold wind.

More than ten thousand defeated soldiers lay sprawled haphazardly in the icy snow pits. The extreme cold rapidly drained the heat from their bodies, their lips turning a purplish-black, characteristic of corpses, and their broken bodies trembled uncontrollably in the wind and snow. Their eyes stared blankly at the pale ground, utterly devoid of the strength to even squeeze out a tear or utter a wail.

Not far to the left, several soldiers of the Plain White Banner were frantically unloading a bloodied and mangled human figure from a horse.

That was Dorgon.

Prince Rui of the Great Jin Dynasty had his eyes closed and his face was deathly pale.

The stainless steel breastplate on his chest was completely dented, and more than a dozen rusty iron nails were deeply embedded in his flesh. The blood flowing from the wound had turned black.

One of his legs was twisted at an eerie angle, and his trouser leg was completely soaked in blood and frozen into a hard block of ice.

More air is exhaled than inhaled.

He could stop breathing at any time.

As for Turg—

The bloody scene at the entrance of Wild Wolf Gully flashed through Huang Taiji's mind.

The extremely burly man, wielding a rusty greatsword, chopped off Turgh's head with a single stroke.

Turgh's headless corpse was still clinging tightly to the strange man's leg.

The most valiant general of the Great Jin died such a humiliating death at the hands of a madman whose name he didn't even know.

Not even a complete corpse was left behind.

A fierce, frigid north wind swept across, dispersing the snow and mist on the highlands.

The sky turned a bleak gray.

Huang Taiji turned his head with difficulty, his gaze passing over the vast forest and looking due south.

As the snowstorm subsided, a hazy outline could be faintly seen on the horizon.

That's the direction of the capital.

The capital of the Ming Dynasty.

The most prosperous and wealthy place in the world.

Three months ago, he personally led 100,000 Jin cavalry, bypassing Mongolia, breaking through Xifengkou, and advancing straight in.

At that time, he was so full of vigor and ambition.

The cities of the Ming Dynasty trembled under the iron hooves of the Eight Banners, and the Ming army fled at the mere sight of them.

Yuan Chonghuan's Guan Ning cavalry were completely outmaneuvered by him, and could only follow behind and eat his dust.

With an army of 100,000 stationed outside Beijing, the dragon throne in the Forbidden City was right before their eyes, within easy reach.

He had even come up with the reign title for his new dynasty after he took control of the Central Plains.

He wants to change the dynasty.

He wanted the Jurchens to sit on that dragon throne for generations to come.

But now?

Huang Taiji looked down at his hands, which were covered in excrement, urine, and blood.

It's all gone.

Of the 100,000 troops, more than half were lost.

The grain and fodder brought out were heavy, and they were all lost.

He personally threw 40,000 Han soldiers and wounded Manchu soldiers as cannon fodder on the open fields of Yanjiao.

The 20,000 core elite troops of the Upper Three Banners were slaughtered by a group of madmen at Wild Wolf Gully, losing their armor and fleeing in disarray.

The elite troops of the Great Jin were completely wiped out in this battle.

An indescribable, intense, stabbing pain suddenly rose from deep within my chest.

Huang Taiji clutched his chest tightly with both hands, letting out a muffled cry of grief.

"puff!"

A mouthful of thick, dark blood spurted out, leaving shocking crimson spots on the pale snow.

"Damn it!"

The surrounding Bayara were terrified and immediately knelt down on the ground.

Huang Taiji pushed away the people who surrounded him, his body swayed violently, his legs went weak, and he knelt heavily on one knee on the snow.

He looked up at the gloomy sky.

Snowflakes landed on his face, instantly melting into cold water droplets that slid down his cheeks, washing away the dried blood and grime.

"We lost."

Huang Taiji's hoarse voice trembled violently in the cold wind, revealing extreme despair and resentment.

"I have been defeated!"

He dug his ten fingers into the hard frozen soil, his nails curling up and bleeding profusely.

He just couldn't understand it.

Everything was clearly within his calculations.

The Ming Dynasty was clearly terminally ill and riddled with problems.

Why did Chu Ze suddenly appear out of nowhere?

Why did an ice city spring up overnight?

Why are there tens of thousands of invincible, pain-averse, and crazy people who would risk their lives for equipment?

Those strange beings are not human at all.

They are extremely terrifying evil spirits, the King of Hell who comes specifically to claim lives.

Quicklime gas canisters, broken copper gongs, rusted giant swords, suicide bombs —

Those outrageous tactics, those shameless fighting styles.

Whenever Huang Taiji closed his eyes, all he could see in his mind were the Manchu warriors writhing and howling in the poisonous fog, and the extremely greedy green eyes of those strange people.

Chu Ze.

This name became Huang Taiji's greatest nightmare in his life.

As long as this person is still alive.

As long as those lunatics are still around.

The Jin cavalry will never be able to set foot in Shanhaiguan again.

Let alone conquering the Central Plains, even whether they could preserve their small base in Liaodong was uncertain.

The fate of the Great Jin Dynasty was destroyed by this living devil.

Extreme fear and despair spread wildly throughout Huang Taiji's body.

He bit his lower lip hard, drawing blood.

The strong smell of blood filled his mouth, stimulating his nerves which were on the verge of collapse.

No.

We can't just give up like this.

The Jin dynasty is not yet dead.

He still had Shengjing, a large area of ​​land in Liaodong, and tens of thousands of Manchu bannermen.

As long as we can get back alive, as long as we can survive this winter, there will still be a chance.

Huang Taiji suddenly raised his head.

His eyes, which were originally filled with despair, were gradually replaced by an extremely sinister and vicious light.

He struggled to his feet from the snow.

His body was still hunched over, but that violent killing intent once again emanated from his broken body.

"Issue my death order."

Huang Taiji surveyed his surroundings, his voice icy and devoid of any emotion.

"The entire army shall set off immediately! Without rest or sleep, retreat to Shengjing at full speed!"

"Anyone who falls behind on the road, whether they are a Niru Ejen or an ordinary Jiala, just throw them away!"

"Anyone who dares to slow the march will be executed on the spot!"

Several Bayara leaders trembled and bowed their heads to accept the order.

"besides."

Huang Taiji stared intently at the Bayara commander, his eyes filled with a ferocious, almost murderous look.

"All details about these battles, and about those extraordinary beings, are to be kept to yourself!"

"After returning to Shengjing, anyone who dares to utter a single word of dissent in private will be executed, along with their entire family!"

"Just say that our Great Jin Dynasty decisively defeated the Ming army at the gates of the capital, plundered countless riches, and withdrew its troops voluntarily!"

The leader of the Bayara tribe swallowed hard and kowtowed deeply.

"Your servant obeys!"

Huang Taiji turned around and looked south again.

The strong wind tousled his gray hair.

He suddenly pulled out the only short knife he had at his waist and, without hesitation, slashed a deep, bone-revealing gash into the palm of his left hand.

Fresh blood gushed out and dripped onto the snow.

He raised his bleeding left hand towards the southern sky, his voice mournful and echoing in the night.

"Chu Ze".

"You have ruined the fate of my Great Jin Dynasty and killed my Manchu warriors."

"This hatred and resentment cannot be washed away even if the waters of the Three Rivers were poured out!"

He gritted his teeth, every word revealing the deepest hatred in his heart.

"I swear."

"After returning to Shengjing, I will utilize all the resources of the Great Jin Dynasty."

"I will summon all the shamans of Changbai Mountain."

"I will send all my spies to infiltrate the Ming Dynasty and Guangning."

"Even if I have to turn this entire world upside down, I will find a way to subdue these supernatural beings!"

"Those unkillable monsters must have weaknesses! They must have flaws!"

"Wait until I find that weakness."

Huang Taiji clenched his bleeding fist tightly, and blood dripped from between his fingers.

"I will personally skin you alive, pull out your tendons, and hang you on the city wall of Shengjing to be burned as a sky lantern!"

The oath echoed across the empty highlands, lingering for a long time.

The remaining survivors struggled to their feet from the snow.

They helped each other and re-tied the seriously injured and unconscious Dorgon to his horse.

No one dared to utter a single complaint.

This once invincible, battle-hardened army has now completely lost all its pride and dignity.

Huang Taiji mounted his warhorse again.

He took one last look at the southern horizon.

The Forbidden City he had always dreamed of had become a distant and unattainable illusion.

"Walk!"

Huang Taiji flicked the reins, and the warhorse neighed and galloped wildly toward the vast forest to the north.

More than 10,000 remnants of the defeated army followed closely behind.

The long line stretched out as a glaring black line across the snow, gradually disappearing into the depths of the snowstorm.