The sound of war drums immediately rang out. By this time, the cavalry sent to provide support had already joined up with the scouts, but after the two groups merged, the hundred Ming soldiers, facing at most fifty Qing soldiers, ignored the drums behind them and turned around to flee in a panic.

"Out of the way!"

Henry Clark pushed aside Deputy Brooks, rushed down from the city wall, and mounted his own warhorse, grabbing a mace as he prepared to charge out.

"Your Majesty, please calm your anger!"

Hot on his heels, Old Brooks grabbed his reins and shouted.

"Let go! Stay in the city with the troops and hold the line. Watch how I kill these dog Tartars!"

Henry Clark kicked him away as he spoke.

Immediately after, he spurred his horse and charged out. By now, the Qing soldiers, having closed the distance, began to fire arrows. As the Ming soldiers ran back, some were hit by arrows, but fortunately, the distance was still considerable and their cotton armor provided some protection. None of the cavalry had fallen yet, but what made Henry Clark even more speechless was that not a single one of them turned to fight back—they only cared about desperately fleeing toward the city gate.

"Turn around and fight!"

Henry Clark charged toward the centurion and roared.

The latter hesitated for a moment.

Without mercy, Henry Clark smashed him off his horse with a single blow from his mace.

"Turn around and fight!"

He roared again.

The cavalry, seeing the centurion lying on the ground covered in blood, turned around in terror and formed up around Henry Clark. The Qing soldiers opposite watched with interest and also formed up, preparing to attack.

"Kill!"

With a wave of his mace, Henry Clark was the first to charge forward. The cavalry on both sides quickly leveled their lances and charged at full speed. The Qing cavalry did the same, and within seconds, the two forces collided.

Wearing two layers of chainmail, Henry Clark grabbed an oncoming lance with his left hand, snatched it away, and smashed his mace down on the Qing soldier's head. Under his immense strength, the man's head was completely crushed. Before the Qing soldiers on either side could react, Henry Clark's left hand thrust the lance backward into another Qing soldier's chest, knocking him off his horse, where he was finished off by a Ming cavalryman's lance. At the same time, Henry Clark's right hand swept his mace sideways, sending another Qing soldier—who was fighting a Ming cavalryman—flying.

The emperor's valor instantly boosted the Ming soldiers' morale.

In the era of cold weapons, morale was often the deciding factor. These Ming cavalrymen were no less well-equipped or trained than the Qing soldiers. They were hereditary military households, professional soldiers for generations. The area north of the capital was not like the long-peaceful south; the Qing had raided past Shanhai Pass many times, so these garrison troops had not neglected their training. They were fully capable of fighting the Qing head-on; they just lacked the courage. But now, with the emperor himself charging into battle with a mace, and fighting so fiercely, the soldiers naturally no longer hesitated.

With twice the numbers and a monster-level warrior leading them, the situation instantly turned into a rout. In the chaos, the Qing cavalry fell one after another. Seeing things going badly, the leading officer quickly ordered a retreat, and the fewer than twenty remaining riders immediately turned and fled.

"Bows and arrows!"

During the pursuit, Henry Clark rested his blood-soaked mace across the front of his saddle and reached out his hand.

A cavalryman hurriedly handed him a bow and arrows.

Henry Clark instantly drew the horn bow, nocking a feathered arrow tipped with a barbed head. He aimed squarely at the back of the fleeing Qing officer. As his horse galloped, the arrowhead wobbled with the motion. At the same time, all relevant data was instantly uploaded to Little Grace. The high-speed computer completed all calculations in a flash and sent back the results. Henry Clark's hand suddenly released, and the arrow shot off the string as if guided by eyes, powered by the bowstring, piercing through the Qing officer's cotton armor and silk underclothes, and then into his body.

He screamed and fell from his horse.

All the Ming soldiers, including those watching from the city wall, erupted in cheers.

Almost at the same time, Henry Clark's second arrow followed. Even while riding at full gallop, the precise calculations from the parameters allowed this arrow to strike the target's back with perfect accuracy. The Ming soldiers on the wall cheered wildly. Amid their cheers, His Majesty the Emperor's third arrow shot a third Qing cavalryman off his horse, and the cheers shook the sky.

All these Ming soldiers knew what it meant to hit a fleeing, galloping target from horseback with every shot.

It was nothing short of a miracle!

Meanwhile, the Ming cavalry in pursuit also kept firing arrows. The fleeing Qing cavalrymen kept falling from their horses in panic, until soon only two remained.

But by then, the distance was too great.

"Your Majesty, our horses aren't as good as the Tartars'!"

A cavalryman stopped beside His Majesty, panting as he spoke.

Henry Clark let out a cold, faint laugh, then drew his bow again. But this time, he didn't aim directly at the target; instead, he angled it slightly upward. The cavalryman beside him watched in disbelief. Under that gaze, His Majesty the Emperor suddenly released the bowstring. The arrow shot skyward with a twang, and nearly a hundred paces away, as its strength gave out, it fell in a parabolic arc.

Unfortunately, it didn't hit the target, but in a chorus of regretful exclamations, it nearly grazed the Qing cavalryman's helmet as it flew past.

"Your Majesty..."