Amidst the night, a region thirty li southeast of Zhangjiakou had succumbed to a battlefield woven with blood and fire.
For twelve whole li around, the land was inundated with the clash of weapons and the sounds of close combat, where countless Mongols and Jin soldiers fought to the death.
Unlike the orderly and disciplined ranks of the Jin Army, the Mongol Cavalry appeared mixed and scattered, leaving a complete mess.
Scattered Mongolian riders could still be seen fleeing northward under cover of darkness.
"Form up! Form up! Those who flee without orders shall die! I will execute them myself!"
Tuotuobuhua roared at the top of his lungs, then swiftly cut down a fleeing Qianhu a hundred paces away, severing him at the neck.
"Bamuer, I want your Wanhu to block their right flank for me! Even if all of your Wanhu perish, you must keep them pinned on that hillside. Don't let them come over, I need time, do you understand, time?"
