We have fought to the Arctic Circle, and you want me to inherit the throne?

Chapter 1120 Raid on the Camp (Part 2)

In the central command area, the thick leather tent was suddenly ripped open.

Dorje strode out from the crowd, fully armored and carrying a heavy, long-handled iron sword.

The firelight illuminated his ashen face and bloodshot eyes, with veins throbbing on his forehead.

The scene before him was truly hell, which Dorje could hardly believe.

Burning tents, galloping, neighing warhorses, soldiers trampling each other, even turning against each other with swords to seize a passage...

It was just a momentary lapse in attention; he only closed his eyes for a second!

His painstakingly built camp has already fallen to this state!

"Asshole!!!"

Dorje's roar, like that of a wounded lion, briefly drowned out the nearby noise.

He slammed his sword to the ground and roared, "Assemble the personal guard! All captains and centurions, move closer to my banner!"

"Anyone who abandons their post or panics and runs amok shall be executed on the spot!"

"The fire brigade, send some men; the rest of you, take up weapons and follow me to meet the enemy!"

"It's just a small detachment of Qing army cavalry, what's the panic?!"

"Take up your swords and show them the skills of the Tibetan warriors!"

His personal guards were indeed elite; though startled, they remained calm and quickly gathered around Dorje.

The bugler sounded the deep, resonant horn to gather the troops, while Dorje himself drew his sword, mounted his horse, and stood like a black reef in the chaotic tide.

He attempted to use his authority to forcefully salvage the situation, which was on the verge of collapse.

However, can a broken camp be salvaged by the personal authority of a military general?

Even if a military genius were reincarnated, he absolutely could not do this.

The surroundings became increasingly chaotic, with shouts of killing and screams blending together, making people completely lose their sense of direction and safety.

Dorjee's icy gaze swept across the sea of ​​fire, finally settling on the silver-armored figure wreaking havoc in the camp, his killing intent spreading like frost.

. . . . . .

Meanwhile, Ma Zhong and Duan Rui were separated by a group of fleeing soldiers during their charge into the camp and temporarily lost contact.

Ma Zhong only had a dozen or so personal cavalrymen left, but he didn't panic. He simply focused on causing chaos and confusion in the crowd.

In the midst of the conflict, they suddenly saw a slightly open area ahead.

Under the torchlight, a Tibetan general was shouting loudly from his horse, surrounded by his fierce guards who managed to suppress the small group of people in disarray.

Judging from his fine armor and imposing demeanor, he was definitely not an ordinary general.

Ma Zhong was overjoyed: "We've stumbled upon a big fish!"

He was young and impetuous, and incredibly audacious. Even though the Tibetan soldiers in front of him outnumbered him by dozens of times, he was completely unafraid.

Seeing that Dorje had his back to him and was focused on suppressing the fleeing soldiers, he was completely unaware that a deadly attack was approaching from his side and rear.

Ma Zhong hung his spear on the Victory Hook and then reached behind him to pull out a dark object.

This item is the unique weapon specially bestowed upon him by Li Che—the Eagle Claw Flying Rope.

It is made of several strands of oil-soaked old ox tendons twisted together, making it exceptionally tough. At the front end are three barbed eagle claws made of fine steel, gleaming coldly, and it is specially designed for capturing generals on the battlefield.

Ma Zhong estimated the distance, flicked his wrist, and the dark shadow shot out with a 'whoosh'.

The rope spread out in the air, its front claws outstretched, like a raptor hunting for prey, and struck at Dorje's nape with lightning speed!

Dorjee was furious, and his entire focus was on Yueyun in front of him.

However, his intuition, honed through years of fighting on the battlefield, saved his life at that moment.

The moment the gust of wind swept over him from behind, a chill ran down his spine. Without thinking, he instinctively dodged to the side.

At the same time, he swiftly reached out with his left hand and pulled a trusted lieutenant who was listening to orders beside him in front of him.

puff!

A muffled thud of flesh tearing apart was heard.

Caught off guard, the lieutenant felt a sharp pain in his shoulder and back as three cold steel claws dug deep into his flesh, even hooking into the gaps in his armor.

With a tremendous dragging force, the lieutenant screamed in agony as he was forcibly pulled off his horse and crashed onto the muddy ground with a thud.

"What a pity!" Ma Zhong cursed inwardly, seeing that what was hanging on the rope was just a 'scapegoat' and not the real victim.

He reacted extremely quickly, pulling his arm back with tremendous force, taut the ox tendon rope, and dragging the screaming deputy general several feet closer like a dead dog.

At the same time, he drew his spear with his right hand and thrust it forward!

A flash of cold light from the spear tip, and it pierced the deputy general's throat with perfect precision, abruptly silencing his screams.

The sudden turn of events startled Dorje, leaving him drenched in cold sweat, followed by a surge of rage.

"How dare you, you little thief!"

He realized that the attacker was just a junior general in the Qing army, and he was even more furious.

With his sword pointed at Ma Zhong, he ordered the surrounding Tibetan soldiers, "Take him down and tear him to pieces!"

The guards around him roared, brandishing their swords and spears, and surrounded Ma Zhong.

Ma Zhong missed his first attack and did not linger in battle.

He knew he was outnumbered and would surely die if surrounded.

"The wind is tight, pull!"

He whistled, turned his horse around, and rode away.

The warhorse he rode was a famous steed bestowed upon him by the emperor. Although it was not as divine as Black Wind, it was still exceptionally fine.

With a burst of speed, it shot into the depths of the chaotic camp like a black arrow.

Dorje urged his horse to give chase, but the difference in speed between the two horses was too great.

After chasing for about a hundred paces, they saw the young general in black armor weave left and right, his figure disappearing behind a cluster of burning supply wagons, from which he could no longer be found.

"Damn it!" Dorje reined in his horse, his face so dark it could drip water, his chest filled with resentment.

He looked around and saw that his personal guards had regrouped, but the chaos in the camp had not lessened.

Just then, from a cloud of smoke on the side, another group of people suddenly appeared.

The group consisted of about twenty riders, their armor and clothing stained with soot and blood, making them look quite disheveled.

The leader was an older man with a dark complexion; he was none other than Duan Rui, whom they had been searching for.

Duan Ruiben was anxious because he had been separated from Ma Zhong.

Suddenly, a bright fire appeared ahead, where a distinguished Tibetan general stood on his horse, surrounded by his personal guards. He was clearly a 'big fish'.

Duan Rui was overjoyed: "It's only right that I, Old Duan, have made this great contribution! If General Ma can't be found, I'll take the credit for myself!"

Eager to make a name for himself, he didn't bother to take a closer look at how many people the enemy had, nor did he notice Dorje's battle-hardened and composed aura.

He immediately shouted, "You Tibetan dog general, prepare to die!"

He brandished his sword and led more than twenty riders straight towards Dorje.

Dorjee was initially startled, thinking that another Qing army force had attacked the camp, and instinctively ordered the generals beside him to engage in battle.

A quick glance revealed that during the recent chaos, capable generals had either been dispatched to quell the unrest or, like the one from earlier, had become scapegoats.

Aside from his personal guards, he had no capable generals by his side.

The dark-faced general had already rushed close, his blade whistling.

Dorjee had no choice but to bite the bullet, spur his horse, and personally charge forward, brandishing his iron sword.

"clang!"

The two swords clashed, sparks flying.

Duan Rui felt a jolt in his arm, and his hand went numb. He was immediately alarmed: "What incredible strength!"

But he was greedy for credit and unwilling to give up, so he gritted his teeth and fought on.

The two men circled around on horseback, and after less than ten rounds, Duan Rui was already sweating profusely, and his swordsmanship was becoming erratic.

Dorje, however, grew increasingly composed in battle, and doubts began to arise in his heart:

Despite his fierce shouts, Qing's martial arts skills were truly mediocre; his swordsmanship was completely chaotic, relying solely on brute force to hack and slash.

"Turns out he's just a good-for-nothing!"

Dorje felt reassured, let out a cold laugh, and suddenly intensified his sword strikes. The heavy broadsword became agile and ruthless in his hands, each move aimed at Duan Rui's vital points.

Duan Rui was struggling to stay afloat, facing numerous dangers. Cold sweat poured down his back, and his earlier enthusiasm for success had long since cooled, leaving only regret.

"Damn it, how can these Tibetan dogs be so powerful! If I had known this, I should have waited for General Ma to come along..."

It's a pity that Duan Rui had the luck to make great contributions, but lacked the ability; he was no match for Duoji.

Seeing that continuing the fight would surely lead to certain death, Duan Rui's eyes darted around, and he suddenly feinted with his sword before reining in his horse and retreating slightly.

Then he raised his voice and shouted at the source of the smoke behind Dorje, "General Yue! You've come at the perfect time!"

"Quickly, let's attack from both sides and kill this Tibetan dog!"

Dorje was terrified upon hearing this.

He instinctively turned his head, his peripheral vision quickly scanning behind him—

But it was completely empty!

"Fell into a trap!"

Dorjee instantly realized what was happening and turned around to see that Duan Rui had already turned his horse around, urging the ordinary warhorse as if it were going crazy, and led more than twenty remaining soldiers into a side path without looking back, disappearing in the blink of an eye.

"Qing Gou!"

Dorje was so angry that he trembled all over. He slashed at the half-burnt wooden stake next to him with his knife, sparks flying everywhere.

"Shameless scoundrel!!!"