Chapter 35: All Attributes Break Through 900 Points

Zhu Ying spurred his horse forward into the fray.

He cut down enemy after enemy.

Under the influence of his current powerful attribute strength, he had far surpassed ordinary men. While not quite a "warrior capable of taking on ten thousand," Zhu Ying undoubtedly possessed the strength of a "warrior capable of taking on a thousand."

Even if he were surrounded by a thousand men, Zhu Ying could fight his way out.

Of course, if a thousand archers were to fire from a certain distance, things would be quite difficult.

Led by Zhu Ying, several thousand Ming soldiers fought with ferocious courage, relentlessly striking the "cornered dogs" and slaughtering the Tartars whose morale and spirit had been utterly broken.

After less than half an hour of intense combat, the battlefield was strewn with corpses and thousands of masterless warhorses.

"Host's all attributes have exceeded 800 points. Reward: one Ordinary Treasure Chest."

"Host's all attributes have exceeded 900 points. Reward: one Ordinary Treasure Chest."

The panel prompted.

In this battle, Zhu Ying did not know how many Tartars he had killed. Conservatively, it was at least two hundred, if not more; this was a moment of true combat power, held back by nothing.

Such combat prowess earned him the deep conviction and respect of every soldier under his command.

"Breaking a thousand points in all attributes is in sight."

"Once all my attributes exceed a thousand, I wonder what kind of change they will undergo," Zhu Ying thought, a hint of joy appearing on his face.

However, Zhu Ying did not dwell on it. He regained his composure and scanned the area.

The battlefield was covered in corpses. Ninety percent of them were Tartars, alongside warhorses scattered across the field. Standing amidst the carnage were thousands of blood-stained Ming cavalrymen, all breathing heavily, some even pursuing the fleeing Tartars.

"Do not pursue the fleeing enemy!" Zhu Ying shouted loudly.

Hearing this, many Thousand-man Commanders also shouted in unison: "Orders from the Commandant: Do not pursue the fleeing enemy!"

Under the restraint of the commanders, the pursuing soldiers began to return.

"Brothers!"

"This group of Tartars was merely a detached unit; this is no place to linger."

"Follow my orders!"

"Quickly tend to the wounded. As for the fallen, lift them onto horses and secure them with ropes. Even if they die in battle, I, Zhu Ying, will not allow their bones to wander in this foreign land."

"I, Zhu Ying, promise that whether in life or death, I will bring my brothers home!" Zhu Ying commanded the commanders and the surrounding soldiers with utmost gravity.

In this foreign land, having killed so many Tartars, Zhu Ying could only imagine the cruelty their bodies would face if left behind. He could not bear to let his brothers-in-arms, who had lived and died with him, be left in a foreign land to have their remains desecrated.

Listening to Zhu Ying, the gaze of the surrounding soldiers shifted. They looked at him with even greater awe and conviction, a deep-seated recognition forming in their hearts.

At this moment, they understood the Commandant's resolve to share life and death with his comrades. This was something worth following unto death.

"We obey the Commandant's orders!"

All the soldiers around him shouted in unison, their voices thunderous, expressing their total alignment and trust in Zhu Ying.

"Zhang Wu, Wei Quan!" Zhu Ying called out again.

"Awaiting orders, Commandant!" the two responded immediately.

"We cannot abandon the Tartar warhorses. These horses have already been tamed; we will take them all to use for rotation later."

"Collect all the arrows from these Tartars; we cannot let them go to waste."

"Get everyone moving. We must evacuate within the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, otherwise, the Tartar reinforcements will catch up to us."

"Also, there are surely Tartars among these corpses feigning death. Remember, do not let them wound you. If you find someone feigning death, kill them immediately," Zhu Ying said in a low, heavy voice.

"Understood!" the two replied instantly.

At least three to four thousand warhorses were scattered across the battlefield, and nearly four thousand Tartar corpses lay on the ground. The results of this battle could be described as magnificent.

After giving all instructions and looking at the wreckage surrounding the battlefield and his own blood-stained armor, Zhu Ying couldn't help but feel a sense of trance.

"Unknowingly, I have been in the army for nearly five months."

"Half a year is approaching."

"From a commoner to the acting Commandant."

"As long as I survive this tribulation, the position of Commandant can at least be formalized. After that, as long as I continue to wreak havoc on the Tartars, military merit will follow."

"And in the process, my attributes can at least break past a thousand."

"However..."

"I must still do my utmost to bring these brothers who follow me back home."

"As long as I can wipe out the Tartar cavalry strength, everything following this will be much easier," Zhu Ying thought to himself.

After the time it took for an incense stick to burn

"Commandant," several Thousand-man Commanders stepped forward to report, "everything is ready. We can evacuate at any time."

"Good."

Zhu Ying nodded and scanned the area. The soldiers had already mounted their horses, the captured Tartar horses had been driven together, and the fallen soldiers had been secured to horses.

"Pass the order: continue heading north!" Zhu Ying commanded loudly.

"We obey the Commandant's order!" the soldiers shouted in unison.

Then, Zhu Ying spurred his horse forward, charging north once more, followed closely by his men.

As the Ming soldiers departed, the battlefield was left with nothing but corpses and many dead horses. It was an extremely bloody and cruel scene.

Less than the time it took for an incense stick to burn after Zhu Ying had left

*Clop. Clop-clop-clop.*

From the south, thousands of Tartar cavalrymen swept in.

Upon seeing the carnage of the battlefield ahead, the leading Tartar general waved his hand: "Stop!"

The Tartar soldiers looked ahead, their faces turning grim.

"Just how many Ming troops were there?" the Tartar Warlord asked in a heavy voice.

"Re... reporting to the Warlord," a Tartar Thousand-man Commander replied with a trembling voice, having narrowly escaped. "The Ming force should be around five thousand... no, more than five thousand. There were at least seven or eight thousand."

"Seven or eight thousand?"

A ferocious expression appeared on the Warlord's face. "Our five thousand warriors could not hold them for even half an hour? Out of five thousand warriors, fewer than a thousand escaped?"

"Warlord," the Thousand-man Commander reported tremblingly, "the Ming army is incredibly strong. Their commander is a demon. He fears neither arrows nor blades. Hundreds of our boys died by his hand alone. And... and five thousand men... all died by his hand. Moreover, those Ming soldiers are all madmen; they do not fear death..."

"Shut up!" the Warlord barked.

After scanning the area, he shouted, "See if there are any surviving boys!"

"Yes!"

Many Tartar soldiers dismounted and ran toward the bloody battlefield.

At that moment, a Tartar soldier approached carrying their battle flag.

"Warlord," the soldier said, respectfully handing the flag to the Warlord, "there are words left by the Ming army on our battle flag."

The Warlord took it, looked at it, and immediately asked loudly, "Does anyone here know how to read Han characters?"

"I do," a Tartar soldier stepped forward immediately.