The black war cavalry slowly approached. The Chahar people had not faced such a situation for ten years. Since the Qing Dynasty conquered the Mongolian grasslands, these wild wolves that were biting each other were domesticated into cattle and sheep, and lived in humiliation but comfortably under the grazing of the Manchus.

In Hou Xuanyan's words, when war begins, comfort means death.

Abeno placed the scimitar in his hand and looked at the opponent in front of him. The horses were all black armor. This was different from the Han army. Their uniforms were always unified. There has been a saying on the grassland that the Han people who dared to leave the confinement and enter the grassland are the most difficult opponents to be challenged. There is Wei Qinghuo Qubing in the distance, and Xu Da Chang Yuchun in the near future. I just don’t know what the quality of this group of people has been.

With a sharp chirping, the several eagles hovering above the battlefield seemed to smell the danger and dissipated from the sky.

"Although the grassland is big, our elderly and children are behind us, our cattle, sheep and horses. Come on, let us slaughter these Han people who only know how to cultivate the land like our ancestors!"

Zare licked his thick lips, held the all-steel fork in his hand tightly, and led the only 7,000 remaining cavalrymen of the Chahar tribe to run forward in an arc. These people were not the strongest soldiers in Chahar, but their nomadic nature made them not afraid to fight, even if they were facing the army that had just won the Qing Dynasty.

The scene of thousands of horses galloping is really no less than the thunderous waves, and the sky and the earth change color. The Fengziying opposite is unmoved, and soon the sound of horse hooves becomes louder and louder, and you can already see the blade of the Mongol scimitar.

Wang Xing, who was in Fengying, shouted in a deep voice: "There are three hundred steps left, lift the gun!"

The cavalry of Fengzi Camp immediately raised the muskets in their hands together. Of course, Wang Xing had no time to check whether they were holding the guns. His eyes were staring ahead.

"Two hundred steps, shoot!"

The banging sound, accompanied by the smoke from the muzzle, the Mongolian soldiers rushing in front were shot off the horse. The effect of this round of shooting was not particularly large, and there were not many people killed, but it cast a shadow on the Mongolian soldiers' psychology.

This time, the Fengzi Battalion was chasing alone. In the past, they were fired by the musket soldiers in infantry fighting side by side. Now they obviously didn't bother to put away the muskets. Wang Xing raised the flag and shouted angrily: "Give up the gun, kill!"

Fengziying threw the musket to the ground without any pain, pulled out his knife and charged the horse. At such a close distance, he almost encountered the enemy with his legs as he clamped his horse's belly.

The close forces were connected, the horses were neighing, the swords and guns collided, the host and the guest fought, the yellow sand swelled, and blood was soaring into the sky.

Here, the winner has been decided.

....

Above the dark green grassland, the setting sun crossed the heaven and earth a layer of dark golden color. The defeated flags were scattered on the ground, and the corpses remained warm.

Wang Xing wiped the blade in his hand, and surrounded him with soldiers from Fengzizhai who had gathered the bodies of his comrades. They had the strongest logistics, guaranteeing the soldiers' abundant physical strength; they had the sharpest weapons; the best war horses fed by the best forage; and after falling down, they had the best doctors to treat them. Moreover, they had just driven the arrogant Manchus out of their homes, and thus gained morale from the army. This Northern Expedition Army was as powerful as a rainbow and unstoppable.

A group of people who win in a row will be difficult to defeat unless it is a very serious decision-making mistake. Their momentum has been developed, and they can often exert all their combat power against the enemy in the face of battle, and it would be nice to face their enemies with half of their usual ones.

The brothers in front had already brought back the escaped Ercongo and the elderly, weak and old women and children led by him. Several soldiers drove a group of old, children and women from the Chahar tribe with a sad face. Seeing this, Wang Xing shouted: "What are you doing to take these people back? The prince has an order to kill all the Chahar people to avenge the brothers who died in Xuzhou, and also shock the Mongolian tribes, so that they dare not take in the escaped traitors. As long as they find Ji Liangyu, take him back to Datong and kill him, and avenge their shame for the brothers. None of the remaining Mongolians will be left."

The young general in charge of chasing looked bitter and said, "General, these are all old people and children, unarmed, subordinates... I can't do anything."

Wang Xing cursed with a stern face: "Fuck, waste, look at these old things. Which one did not enter the pass to rob when he was young? These little kids will be a disaster when they grow up. Even if you don't study, you should know that the wildfire cannot be burned out, and the spring breeze will grow again." After saying that, he raised his sword and turned forward, and the old and weak Mongolians hugged each other in panic.

Xia Wanchun rode over and stopped him and said, "Wang Xing, what are you doing?"

"Marquis of Xiangxi, this is what you said. Even if the person who jumps far away will be punished. These people overestimated their abilities and dared to take in the traitor Ji Liangyu who the prince personally called to kill. If they didn't kill them all, how could they intimidate the Mongolian tribes?" Fengziying was led by Xia Wanchun since the time of Jinling's founding army, so Wang Xing still had to listen to Xia Wanchun's words, stopped obediently and explained with a smile.

"No, you see, these people are all old, weak, women and children who are powerless. It would be against the way of heaven if we kill them." Xia Wanchun felt a little unbearable, especially when these Mongolians were holding each other, panic as if they were straying dogs. The body of the young man in their home was lying on the grass next to them.

Although Xia Wanchun said it personally, Wang Xing was still dissatisfied and said with his neck in his arms: "The prince's place..."

There was a faint anger between Xia Wanchun's eyebrows and said in a deep voice: "The prince, I will naturally say, execute the orders and take them back."

Wang Xing looked at his young face, shook his head with a wry smile, and said, "Since that's the case, the last general will take the order."

At this time, a boy from the Chahar tribe who was dressed better than ordinary children and had a whiter face stood up and pointed at Wang Xing, who was holding the knife, and shouted in Mongolian words. The woman behind him pulled him back, hugged him tightly in his arms, and shivered all over. The little boy was still unconvinced and bit him open his mouth. The woman felt pain but hugged him tightly, but she didn't let go. After a while, blood was already flowing from her arms.

The little boy was Abeno's son, who was supposed to be the heir to this tribe. The woman holding him was just his servant, and the little boy bit and kicked him angrily.

Wang Xing raised his lips, chuckled, and shouted: "Li San, what did he say?"

Li San is a young man in Fan Yongdou Shop. After the Fan family collapsed, Fengzi Camp recruited guides and translators in Zhangjiakou. Li San, who lost the means of making a living, joined Fengzi Camp. This kind of guy came and went to see him off and was the most good at observing his expression. Although his level of fighting was not good, his cleverness was still there.

Hearing Wang Xing's words, he stood up and said, "General, he said, 'You Han dogs and pigs, sooner or later, he will kill us to take revenge.' He also said that we are cowards and dare not kill them. He said that although he was young, he had killed many Han slaves."

Wang Xing nodded secretly, Xia Wanchun, who was beside him, knew that such a young child would not have so much content after calling those few times. But the soldiers of Fengzi Camp around him could no longer help, everyone was full of eyebrows and glaring, and countless eyes were staring at the little boy. No matter how naughty and fierce he was, he was just a child, so scared that he became honest.

Although his angry scolding just now was not as ugly as Li San said, there were indeed many insulting words from the Han people.

"If it is not my race, their hearts will be different! Xiangxi Marquis, these beasts cannot be kept." After Wang Xing said that, he quietly walked to the captives for a few steps. Seeing Xia Wanchun's gloomy face without reaction, Wang Xing's eyes turned and shouted, "Brothers, kill this disaster."

Wang Xing deliberately made ambiguous words and did not know who to kill. The angry Fengzi camp soldiers stepped forward one after another and wanted to massacre all the Chahar tribes.

The boy in the woman's hand was pulled up by someone. The naughty child had lost the courage he had just now, and cried loudly but could not make any sound. The knight threw him casually, and Wang Xing raised his knife to split him in half in the air.

The remaining soldiers of the Fengzi Camp began to massacre prisoners, screaming one after another. Xia Wanchun turned his horse and left with his personal soldiers.

Li San couldn't stand such a bloody scene and leaned over with his back and said, "General Wang, Hou Xiangxi, he seems very unhappy."

Wang Xing stared at Xia Wanchun's back and thought that the King of Yue, Xuanyan, and Xia Wanchun, were not much different from Xia Wanchun, but if Xia Wanchun came to lead the Northern Expedition Army, the Northern Expedition would still be in his dream.
Chapter completed!