Although three hundred Manchu Banner cavalry charged into the Sui army's center, the fierce cavalrymen lost their edge like dragons trapped in mud. In the Sui army's dense forest of spears, the speed advantage of light cavalry vanished. Once the cavalry could no longer charge, those high on their horses were practically no different from the bundles of grass spears that long spearmen practiced with.
Tale was brave enough, and his mace was heavy enough. From charging into the Sui army's ranks to his death, he sent at least a dozen Sui soldiers to their deaths. With his martial skills, he should have achieved even greater success in the upcoming great battle. But… he was so easily and simply swallowed up by the Sui army's formation.
He died because of his arrogance; the strength of the enemy's formation was not the main reason for his death.
This was the first war between the two most powerful empires in the world in over a hundred years. The Mongol cavalry, who had dominated the Western world, had never encountered anyone who dared to resist them before. In other words… the Mongols were far less familiar with war than the Sui. Wherever the Mongol cavalry went, no one dared not bow their heads. Although Tale had killed many before, those were massacres, not actual fighting. For a long time, the lack of resistance had fostered an extremely arrogant and conceited character in them.
In their eyes, the Sui people, who didn't even have warhorses, were like weak tribes; they would kneel and surrender the moment the cavalry charged. Tale looked at the Sui people like a tyrannical slave owner looked at lowly, ugly slaves. But there was no doubt that the Sui people were not his subservient shepherds.
Three hundred elite cavalrymen couldn't even penetrate ten paces into the Sui army's center.
Mandulang, in the distance, frowned slightly, his expression gradually becoming serious.
"Even without warhorses... the Sui people can still possess such fighting power."
He sighed softly, then shook his head. "Fortunately, the brave Tale and his three hundred cavalrymen risked their lives to uncover the Sui army's tactics. Though he is dead, he has rendered a great service. Remember this for me: upon returning, kill two women from the Northern Liao region and a Han cavalryman to be buried with Tale."
His personal guards immediately responded.
"The Sui people use very long weapons. If our cavalry can't fly like eagles, they'll be helpless once they're entangled. That won't do..."
Mandulang pondered for a moment before ordering, "Zhena, Teli, each of you take five hundred cavalry and attack the Sui army's flanks. Remember, don't charge into the enemy formation. Lead your cavalry to whiz past them like the wind. Then unleash your wolf-tooth arrows and let them experience the archery skills of our Mandulang warriors!"
"Hoo-ha!"
Mandulang's two subordinates, Zhena and Teli, obeyed and each led five hundred cavalry out of the formation.
Li Xiaozong looked at the fallen enemies, his expression grave.
It seemed the first attack by the Mongol cavalry had been cleanly and decisively thwarted. Three hundred fierce steppe light cavalry hadn't even broken ten paces into the formation. But Li Xiaozong also saw something else, making his worries grow heavier. He had expected that the three hundred light cavalry would be trapped and killed by the spear formation. However… the Sui army suffered losses no less than the Mongol Yuan army, demonstrating the formidable fighting power of the Mongol cavalry.
Even when trapped, the cavalry could still fight off roughly the same number of enemies.
"Retreat twenty paces!"
Emperor Li Xiaozong waved his command flag and shouted.
As the horn sounded, the army of over two thousand men quickly retreated twenty paces. This freed up the corpses left behind after the fighting, which could also serve to hinder the enemy cavalry charge. Just as the army retreated, the Manchu cavalry launched another attack. Two cavalry units charged from the left and right, seemingly aiming to attack the Sui army's flanks.
"Archers, prepare!"
Emperor Li Xiaozong waved his command flag, and the archers who had previously retreated moved forward again. The soldiers on the flanks quickly changed formation from square to circle. Shield bearers and spearmen were ready to quickly move forward to replace the archers as they withdrew.
These formations were the result of countless daily training sessions. At the general's command, the soldiers moved instinctively, almost without thinking, shifting positions and changing formations. The Sui Dynasty's infantry's numerous victories in foreign wars were largely due to their ever-changing formations. Whether attacking or defending, the Sui army had many formations at their disposal.
However, the Manchu cavalry's second attack inflicted heavy losses on the Sui forces.
The enemy showed no intention of forming ranks.
A thousand cavalrymen swept past the flanks of the Sui army, stopping about forty paces away. Howling like wolves, the Manchu cavalrymen unleashed a barrage of wolf-tooth arrows at the Sui formation as they charged. The steppe cavalry were skilled in archery and horsemanship; they could easily control their horses using only their legs. Compared to the Sui infantry's foot bows, the steppe cavalry's horse bows had a shorter range and were made of boxwood, unlike the Sui foot bows which were made of composite materials.
Although the boxwood horse bows appeared to be at least one size smaller than the Sui Dynasty's foot bows, their rate of fire was much faster. At a distance of seventy paces, if arrows were fired simultaneously, the Sui infantry using foot bows could fire a maximum of two arrows in the time it took the steppe cavalry to fire three.
The cavalry, sweeping past the flanks of the army like the wind, tore through the Sui soldiers on the outer perimeter of the main force like slices of flesh. A dense rain of wolf-tooth arrows flew into the Sui ranks, and Sui archers fell with cries of agony. The stationary Sui soldiers became easy targets, while the Sui archers struggled to keep up with the swiftly passing enemy cavalry.
Soon, two cavalry forces swept past the flanks of the main force, then crossed behind the Sui ranks, once again showering the Sui ranks with arrows.
"General!"
A personal guard cried urgently to Emperor Li Xiaozong, "At this rate, our men will soon be all shot down by the Manduqi cavalry!"
Emperor Li Xiaozong's brow furrowed, his lips almost bitten raw.
On the opposite side, Mandulang couldn't help but laugh, his eyes filled with smugness: "Infantry against cavalry, as long as there's no direct contact... Li Xiaozong, what makes you think you can win?"
...
...
Less than a mile from the Wolf Breast Mountain Canyon, Zhao Sen weakly waved his hand and issued the order: "Attack from the flank! Don't try to rescue Pan Mei! Charge into the canyon! We absolutely cannot let the Mongols block it!"
"Yes, sir!"
The soldiers responded loudly, then changed formation, attempting to withdraw from the battle. Pan Mei was trapped too deeply; Zhao Sen's single battalion couldn't break through the enemy's encirclement to rescue her. From the outside, Pan Mei's troops weren't even visible. Under such heavy encirclement, Zhao Sen had no confidence that his 1,220 soldiers could break through the layers of enemy forces.
Seeing the Sui army attempting to retreat, a large contingent of Mongols spurred their horses away from the encirclement of Pan Mei and pursued Zhao Sen.
"Fuck him!"
Pan Mei, trapped in the middle, cursed angrily, spitting out a mouthful of bloody smear. He looked at the enemies charging forward like madmen, a flicker of fear in his eyes. Although he harbored resentment when he retreated, he still maintained the basic qualities of a Sui Dynasty general. His troops marched rapidly towards the canyon in columns, but just as they were about to reach the canyon entrance, they were surrounded by Mongol troops surging in from all sides.
Those weren't soldiers!
When Pan Mei saw that the surrounding group consisted of countless herders, he didn't pay much attention. Among them, he even saw women and children barely reaching his shoulder. What was so scary about such a large group?
But after the two sides made contact, Pan Mei knew he had made a grave mistake.
Emperor Li Xiaozong had warned him beforehand that the people of the grasslands were fierce and warlike. Boys as young as four or five dared to climb onto horseback, and by their teens, they could ride horses at full speed and were skilled in archery. The dark-skinned, strong women wielded their scimitars with no less skill than the men. Howling, they swarmed in like a pack of wolves, devouring the Sui soldiers layer by layer.
A single elite Sui Right Guard battalion was surrounded by at least ten thousand herders. These herders seemed utterly fearless of death. Though fierce, they faced the well-trained elite Sui Right Guard. They could ride horses and shoot arrows, but their killing skills were no match for the Sui soldiers. Yet, even at the cost of two or even three or four herders dying to take down a Sui soldier, not a single one of them was deterred by the blood and corpses.
"The enemy has split up!"
A sharp-eyed soldier shouted, pointing to the sight before him. He could see dust rising behind the herders' ranks—a sign that the enemy's rear guard was retreating.
"Reinforcements are coming to our rescue!"
Pan Mei's eyes lit up, and he pointed in that direction with his long spear, shouting, "Wedge formation! Charge out!"
The remaining five or six hundred Sui soldiers, with Pan Mei as their spearhead, charged towards the weakest point in the encirclement. Pan Mei now regretted not listening to Li Xiaozong's advice; without experiencing real war, one could not gain a complete understanding of the enemy.
Li Xiaozong had said that those herdsmen who picked up scimitars were soldiers. But Pan Mei hadn't paid attention then; in his eyes, commoners were just commoners, and giving them knives made them at most bandits.
But now he understood. When a country is invaded by an enemy army, the people often unleash the same fighting power as the army, or even more frenziedly.
He had lost count of how many people his spear had killed—the elderly, women, and even young children. But he felt no pity, for this was a battlefield, and those on the other side were the enemy. If you hesitated because the opponent was a child, that child would not hesitate to plunge their scimitar into your throat.
Why haven't we reunited with the outside forces yet?
Pan Mei stabbed a blood-covered Mongol woman to death with a single thrust of his spear. The woman had a waist as thick as a bucket and an ugly face. As she fell, her expression was exceptionally ferocious. Pan Mei saw hatred in her eyes, a hatred that tightened his heart.
If the reinforcements outside are fighting their way in, why haven't he seen their battle banners yet?
A question arose in Pan Mei's mind, but he quickly found the answer.
Yes… the outside forces aren't here to rescue him; their goal is to defend Qingxia. Relatively speaking, his life seems insignificant.
He can only rely on himself.
Pan Mei took a deep breath and thrust his spear, knocking an oncoming herdsman off his horse. But just as he spurred his horse forward, two herdsmen chopped off its front hooves. Losing its balance, the horse lurched forward, and Pan Mei was thrown violently. His long spear flew out of his hand, out of reach.
A herdsman, seeing the enemy general fall from his horse, roared and leaped down. Gripping his scimitar, he lunged at Pan Mei's chest.
"Get out of the way!"
Pan Mei kicked the herdsman away, then tried to pull out the scimitar he was lying on the ground. But the scimitar was too long; he couldn't pull it out while lying on the ground. Just then, a herdsman riding by bent down and slashed Pan Mei in the shoulder as he sat up.
Blood spurted out, the momentum sending Pan Mei staggering forward.
The herdsman jumped off his horse, brandishing his scimitar, and charged at Pan Mei. Pan Mei, enduring the pain, got up, pulled out his scimitar, and plunged it into the herdsman's abdomen, then kicked him away: "You lowly barbarian, get out!"
He cursed, but then the enemy cleaved him in the back. He fell again, then was pinned down by the charging herdsmen. One, two, three… five or six herdsmen piled on top of Pan Mei, squeezing her beneath them. Countless fists pounded down, knives stabbed repeatedly.
"Get out of here… you… lowly… barbarians!"
The intermittent shouts came from below, fading into barely audible whispers.
When the herdsmen stood up, their dead enemy was unrecognizable. Thick blood seeped from the gaps in his armor.
The herdsmen paused for a moment, then pounced again, frantically tearing the armor off the corpse.
No one looked at the unseeing, lifeless eyes, no one paid attention to the resentful expression on his face.