After Ma Xianglin finished speaking, he put the reins in his right hand, stepped on the stirrups with his boots, clamped the horse's belly between his legs, shouted a few times, and jumped out of the horse.

A dozen or so Shi Yan family members on the left and right, as well as more than 20 white-pole gun veterans pretending to be members of the caravan, also roared angrily, followed Ma Xianglin's mount, and bypassed the left flank of the Jin army near the bank of the Luan River.

Ma Biao, who was closest to the young master, erected a red tooth-side pennant, galloped on one side, waved the flag on the other, and played a simple and clear flag to tell his own people in the mountains and forests how to divide labor and receive the enemy.

At the same time, the four-pounder continued to fire the last round of scattered shells at the center and right flank of the Tartars.

"General Man, if you want to rush into battle and cut Tartars, you can go, don't take care of us. General Ma has foot soldiers, who can pick up here and protect the camp! ”

Zheng Haizhu waved his hand to Man Guidao in the deafening sound of cannons.

Man Gui had already seen that in the mountains and forests on the left, there were ambushes running out, obviously divided into two groups, one cavalry and one infantry.

The most conspicuous weapon in their hands is still the hook and sickle.

The cavalry divided into about 100 people, crossed the front of the white smoke formation, went to support their commander Ma Xianglin, and attacked the left flank of the Houjin army, and the remaining 200 men and horses copied to the right flank.

The foot soldiers also quickly lined up dozens of paces in front of the gun carriage, and the tips of their guns were erected like a row of rejecting horses.

Man Gui laughed, and said to his fierce and sturdy soldiers who only had about 20 people under his banner: "Dolls, go with Lao Tzu to earn a few Bayala heads, don't teach these Sichuan barbarians to compare, and shame our Xuan army!" ”

Zheng Haizhu didn't have time to see where Man Gui was heading, so he only urged his Chongming generals and artillerymen to push the artillery cart into the camp behind him as fast as possible.

When the two sides are in a scuffle, these long-range firearms are useless.

Soon, on the snowfield ahead, there was the crisp sound of weapons clashing, accompanied by the earth-shattering roars of the male animals in the fight.

Little Beledeg, the five cattle under his command, more than 1,000 Jurchen soldiers, half of them in armor, and about 300 coolies.

If you go to Liaodong to sneak attack the Ming army guard with mediocre combat strength and only a few hundred smaller defenders, or rob a small Mongolian tribe on the grassland without heavy foot bows, the size of the Derge team can be controlled.

But today, without any psychological preparation for regular combat, when Derge led his troops to approach the Mongol camp in the lower reaches of the Luan River, he did not arrange the formation in advance at all.

The hellish start of the four-pounder cannon made Derge, who had not experienced the battle of Fushun that year, instantly stunned.

The Derges, as well as the Bayalas who were guarding the front and back, left and right, saw the firelight intertwined with white smoke on the plains between the Luan River and the mountains and forests, and in an instant, the Jurchen warriors who were riding their horses and galloping in a chic manner just a moment ago turned over on their backs, and were even blown into the air first, and then fell straight down.

Reflecting the morning glow in the east, the Derge class could clearly see that many of those who fell from the sky were not complete human figures.

Derger's mouth was open, staring at the severed hands and half-limbs, or the heads of horses and heads.

When the sound of the artillery stopped, and a dense group of soldiers outflanked from both flanks, rushing into the Houjin team that had escaped the artillery fire like two torrents, Dege finally came to his senses and realized that he had been ambushed, and that the other party was not the Mongols under Lin Dan Khan, but the Ming army.

"White pole gun! White Pole Gun! Derge said loudly to the Baya Lama in Manchu.

Huang Taiji had directly fought with Ma Xianglin in the Battle of Fushun, and if it weren't for the quick evasion of cheating, the most favored Sibeile would have become a tablet long ago. In order to save his face, Huang Taiji greatly exaggerated the combat power of the white-pole lancers in the council hall afterwards, so that the Houjin from the banner lord Baylor to the Jiala Ezhen and Niu Lu Ezhen all knew that the Ming army had such a strong force.

"Master, the number of the Ming army should be about the same as ours." Derge's side said Kara Ezhen.

This Jia Lae Zhen is one round older than the Derg class and has rich field experience. He was keenly aware that Xiao Bei glanced at the trumpeter holding the conch.

As soon as the soldiers on both sides collided, and they were about to blow the trumpet to collect their troops, it would not be a retreat, but a rout. The morale of the Ming army will be doubled, and the other party also has horses, so the ability to pursue is not a problem. Or if you don't chase it, and then change to those fire canisters to blast a round, the Jurchens in armor will still be cut by grass.

Then it's better to simply fight to the death with the Ming army!

Derge turned his head and saw the fierce light in Jiala's eyes.

The ruthlessness of the veteran ignited the fighting spirit of Little Baylor.

Derge drew his sword and shouted at the white-armored soldiers in front of him, left and right: "Nikan doesn't dare to fight the firecracker, he will hit their own people!" Warriors of Bayara, take the A'al-Achao Has, rush over, kill them, and rob them of their horses and their silver! ”

After a series of strange screams, the white-armored soldiers urged their horses to run forward, and along the way they also slashed and killed a few Baoyi who were bleeding and ran back to flee for their lives, which was the prerogative of the white-armored soldiers, and enforced military discipline on the cowardly, whether it was Baoyi, or ordinary Ali Achaoha cavalry or infantry.

……

Man Gui's face was hideous, he swept left and right, and after cutting down several Ali Chaoha, he felt like he had drunk a few sips of hot wine, and his whole body was completely excited.

He snapped forward and became more confident of victory.

"This dog-day Tartar army, there are no fucking Mongols. The kung fu of the Tartar bow and light arrows is not good, and we can't shoot our horses, so the dolls can rush with confidence! ”

Man Gui howled in a loud voice like Lei Gong.

Immediately, he deliberately left the ordinary golden soldiers to his subordinates, and he continued to rush forward, targeting the oncoming Bayala in silver armor.

A knight in silver armor wielding a mace also saw him and rushed towards him with a strange scream.

"My good boy is so filial, I sent your father's head!"

The moment Man Gui grinned to himself, he stood up on horseback and slashed at Bayara's outstretched forearm.

Naba Yala was going to use a mace to directly smash Man Gui's horse's head, but when he saw Man Gui's knife coming, he hurriedly turned his body ninety degrees and dodged the blade.

After the two mounts staggered, they both turned their heads and ran resolutely towards each other again.

This time, when Bayala was about to come to him, he suddenly exerted force at his waist, grabbed the reins of the horse with his left hand, leaned his body to the right, and swung his mace fiercely with his right hand to stab Gui in the abdomen.

The mace of the Jurchens can actually be regarded as a hook and sickle with a pole that is half shorter, and Man Gui has practiced with Ma Xianglin several times along the way since he left the Wild Fox Ridge, and he is a lot more familiar with the posture of the person who makes the gun.

At this moment, he also accurately judged the intention of the Jurchens, accurately avoided the iron teeth when he took out the knife, blocked the end of the stick head, gritted his teeth and pried it violently, the Naba Ya Lama did not send the force in time, and as soon as the arm was loosened, the mace was shaken off the horse.

Bayala is the title that can only be possessed by the one in a hundred warriors in the Houjin army, and this Bayala is also extremely fierce and calm.

After losing his main weapon, he barely had any panic and stagnation, so he pulled out the spare sword at his waist and slashed through Man Gui's move.

But what he didn't expect was that just as he was relieved, a black shadow flew in front of him, hitting half of his cheek with a bang.

The Jurchen white-armored soldiers, with chain mail wrapped around their heads and shoulders, were protected from stray arrows and light arrows, but they couldn't bear the iron lump and smashed it at such a close distance.

With a "poof", Bayara spurted out a mouthful of blood, and the whole person shook, holding the reins by instinct.

Without hesitation, Man Gui approached, slashed out, cut the chain mail at Ba Yala's neck, and then dragged back a knife, directly cutting his trachea.

Holding his neck, Bayala fell off his horse.

Man Gui said proudly: "The iron bones that you Tartars love to use, Lao Tzu will also make it." ”

There was no time to dismount and cut off people's heads on the battlefield, Man Gui stared at this Bayala and continued to look for the next target.

He soon discovered that Ma Xianglin, who was holding a spear, was close to the blue flag.