Is it God's will, or is it just bad luck that I deserve this disaster?
The gunshots and shouts behind him gradually faded away, and Amin continued to flee along the riverbank without looking back.
Throughout his campaigns, Amin had never encountered such a disastrous situation. Even after his setback at Port Arthur, his retreat had been relatively calm. How could he have felt like he was at the end of his rope?
Now that I think about it, it was really my own arrogance that harmed myself and these five thousand Jianzhou warriors.
If they had not scoffed at the Mongolian army's combat effectiveness, and if they had not pursued them relentlessly, they would never have been lured to the battlefield chosen by the enemy.
If we had not underestimated the enemy and had been more careful when chasing the enemy and observing the battlefield, we might have discovered the enemy's hidden ambushes and the musketeers hiding behind the grass slopes.
Of course, despite making many mistakes, the enemy's tactics changed, and their combat power increased, the outcome was still more defeats than victories.
But they were defeated. The cavalry could run away. How could they end up in a situation where the whole army was wiped out and had to flee in a panic?
"My Lord Prince..." A personal guard pointed. It was a gentle slope leading from the riverbank to the main road, but the guy was still a little hesitant, not knowing whether he should go up.
Amin nodded and turned his horse without hesitation. It's already like this, why are you still thinking so much? How can we escape the enemy's pursuit if we walk so slowly on the riverbank?
With only a dozen men left, and no idea if he could escape, Amin felt desolate. But his opponent didn't give him much time to grieve, for the sound of hurried horse hooves could be heard behind him.
"Lord Beile, you go first." The guards' faces showed a look of determination, or perhaps even sadness. They drew their swords and shouted, "Everyone, fight the enemy and protect Lord Beile."
More than ten people responded, reined in their horses, turned around, and rushed back at full speed.
Amin sighed, withdrew his gaze, then kicked the horse's belly and galloped forward without looking back.
Chasing after them were Hu Dawei and Meng Ruhu, along with dozens of naturalized cavalrymen led by them.
They had no idea whether they could catch the big fish, but they knew there were friendly forces ahead, namely dozens of dragoons who had set out from the blocking position in advance.
Hearing the sound of horse hooves ahead, Hu Dawei and Meng Ruhu also gave the order to prepare for battle, regardless of whether they were enemies or friends. Arrows were strung, swords were unsheathed, and they continued to gallop forward.
If the enemy cavalry is coming towards you and you are charging at them, speed is very important, as whoever is slower will suffer.
Hu Dawei and others understood this truth, and the Jiannu on the opposite side also understood it. They urged their horses desperately and bravely rushed towards the enemy who was more numerous and powerful.
"Kill the enemy!" "Kill the enemy!" The shouts rang out almost at the same time, followed by a barrage of arrows shot towards the enemy. The Ming army had a large number of people and clearly had the upper hand.
Moreover, the naturalized cavalry are good at archery and know how to attack the enemy's weak points, which are war horses.
Although heavy cavalry was known as the tanks of ancient times, the most famous one should be the linked horses during the Song-Jin War, but they gradually faded out of the battlefield afterwards.
Of course, when conditions permitted, war horses at that time were also protected, but it was far from enough.
After a round of arrows, the Jiannu lost a few more men and horses in the chaos. But even so, the survivors still collided with the Ming army.
The clashing of weapons, the neighing of war horses, the loud shouts of killing, and the screams of being hacked to pieces filled the sky above the avenue.
The battle was fierce but short. The desperate attacks of a few Jiannu soldiers were like a stone thrown into a lake, which only caused a few ripples before calming down again, as if nothing had happened.
"Chase, there is a big fish ahead." No matter how dumb Meng Ruhu was, he could guess what these guys who were like moths to a flame were trying to do. He wiped the blood off the knife with the sole of his boot and led his men to chase them again.
The wind was whistling in his ears and the horse was riding at its fastest speed. Amin just wanted to leave this place of life and death as soon as possible and get rid of the entanglement between life and death.
But something unexpected happened. The warhorse suddenly lost its front hoof and plunged forward with such a large magnitude that even Amin was unable to adjust his posture and fell heavily to the ground.
Even with the protection of his helmet, Amin was still knocked dizzy. Before he could react, several dark figures pounced on him, attacking him with blades, gun butts, and large feet.
The butt of the gun hit his face hard, breaking his nose. Dirty blood mixed with mucus rushed down his nose, and Amin saw stars.
The blade slashed down and struck his calf, accompanied by the crisp sound of broken bones, and Amin let out a long scream;
Bang! The heavy foot hit Amin's mouth hard, blocking his screams and causing several teeth to fly to the ground.
Running away was embarrassing enough, but now "embarrassed" was no longer enough to describe Amin. The Second Prince of the Later Jin, a battle-hardened warrior of Jianzhou, was beaten to death by a few Ming soldiers without even the strength to fight back.
"It's this bastard who's commanding under the flag." A Ming army officer stomped between Amin's legs in hatred, but unfortunately Amin had already fainted. This heavy blow that could end his family line only made him twitch twice.
"It should be a high-ranking official." Fan Hualong's face was still stained with smoke and ash. He stroked his chin and looked at the dead dog Amin, guessing: "Maybe it was Amin!"
After a pause, he grabbed the soldier who was about to hit Amin on the head with the butt of his rifle and said, "Don't... kill him. Capture him alive, that's the greater credit!"
Oh, the soldier put away his rifle, still a little unwilling. He glanced at Amin, whose hair was covered in blood, and asked uncertainly, "Isn't he dead?"
"He's not dead, look, he's still moving!" The Ming army officer stepped hard and pointed at Amin's slightly trembling fingers.
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