Chapter 1

Amidst the vast expanse of heaven and earth, the battlefield was drenched in blood, with bodies strewn across the field and arrows flying like locusts. Two armies, dressed similarly but clearly distinct, were engaged in fierce combat. The freshly sprouted grasslands were now covered with layer upon layer of human and horse corpses, each pierced with countless arrows, resembling lush and vigorous weeds from a distance.

The air was filled with deafening shouts of battle, the clashing of weapons, the drumbeats that stirred the heart like a motor, and the thundering hooves that rolled like the first spring thunder...

This was the scene Ma Han saw upon waking up.

An ancient battlefield! Real combat! Could it be... that the Kluver Group went to great lengths to have me seize something related to a time tunnel? That's why they gave me a right arm worth 700 million dollars!

Ma Han slowly raised his right hand, staring at his fingers as they curled and clenched into a fist. Despite the high-intensity simulated skin, it was no longer a flesh and blood hand, but under his neural control, he could still feel the explosive power.

Hmm? It was only then that Ma Han noticed a person lying at his feet. It wasn't his fault for overlooking it; there were too many dead bodies on the battlefield, and one more didn't make a difference. What caught his attention was the person's armor, with its dense and shiny scales, and the gleaming iron helmet, which didn't seem like that of a regular officer. Moreover, the cause of death was a large indentation on the top of the helmet, as if struck by a thick iron rod.

But Ma Han was surprised to find a tuft of red tassels on his right elbow, which seemed to match the red tassels on the helmet's indentation... Could it be that this person was used as a cushion when he fell from the sky, and was killed by an elbow strike to the head?

Soon, a group of armored soldiers, their mouths agape, stood in shock for about the same amount of time it took Ma Han to adapt to the environment. They then screamed as if they had seen a ghost: "He... he killed the lord! He killed the lord!"

"It's not good! General Qu is dead!"

"Quick, kill this wicked bandit and avenge the lord!"

"Bandit, take this!"

Amidst the chaotic roars, dozens of soldiers, including four cavalrymen, charged at Ma Han with their weapons.

"Sorry, it's true that I killed him, but this is a battlefield. It's either you kill me or I kill you, no right or wrong. If you knew what I just did, you wouldn't rush to your deaths like this."

Ma Han muttered to himself. The threat to his life transformed his confusion into ferocity. He quickly unsheathed the large sword from the dead General Qu's waist, gripped the hilt with his right hand, and drew the sword. With a long cry, he struck five times in quick succession, each thrust precise and swift.

The first five soldiers who charged at him clutched their throats, their eyes wide with terror, and fell to the ground.

Ma Han's sword was fast, but not so fast that it could instantly strike down soldiers attacking from five different directions without them having time to defend. In fact, except for the first two soldiers who were caught off guard, the third soldier and onwards tried to block with a sword, spear, and shield. The results were: the sword was knocked away, dead! The spear broke, dead! The shield was pierced through, dead!

No one could withstand a single strike, and all weapons were as fragile as paper or dough in the face of "absolute power."

As the five soldiers fell, a cavalryman was the first to reach him. The cavalryman held a three-foot-long straight-bladed sword, similar to a samurai sword, with a bluish-gray blade and a faint trace of blood. The cavalryman pressed the sword against the horse's neck, the blade extending outward. This way, he didn't need to swing the sword; he just needed to adjust the horse's direction and the distance of the blade, and the horse's speed would cut off the head of the enemy standing on the ground. If the cutting point was well-controlled, the blade wouldn't even become dull.

Ma Han tightly pressed his lips, switched the sword to his left hand, and picked up a long spear from the ground with his right hand. He suddenly thrust the spear into the horse's neck and then pushed it to the ground with great force. The horse let out a mournful cry as it fell to the side, pinning the cavalryman's leg and making it difficult for him to move.

The cavalryman was struggling in panic when he suddenly felt a cool sensation on his neck. The sword blade mercilessly cut through, and blood spurted out.

Ma Han didn't even blink, and with a swift backhand, he blocked the blade of the second charging cavalryman with a loud "clang." His feet slid backward several steps as if applying the brakes, dissipating the impact. He quickly extended his right hand, grabbed the cavalryman's ankle, and slammed him to the ground like a toy...

With a few swift movements, he had killed seven cavalry and infantry soldiers, especially the last cavalryman, who was thrown to the ground like a baby, creating a shocking scene. The remaining soldiers were so frightened that they stopped in their tracks, and two cavalrymen even reined their horses back in terror.

"This man is fierce and cannot be matched by force. Shoot arrows, kill him!"

The one speaking was a young military officer in his twenties, with a firm face and sharp eyes. He was holding a large crossbow, the arrow in the slot of the crossbow aimed coldly at Ma Han.

Ma Han rolled on the ground, and a leather shield appeared in his hand.

Twang! Thud!

The distance between them was no more than twenty steps. The crossbow bolt was powerful, piercing through the leather shield and still had enough force to hit Ma Han's right forearm. Surprisingly, the arrow that could pierce armor and shield bounced off and fell to the ground. Ma Han didn't even frown, and with a swift spin, he threw the leather shield at the officer.

The officer quickly drew his sword, his eyes blazing with light, and with a loud cry, he swung the sword down. With a loud "bang," the leather shield exploded, and the officer, along with his sword, was thrown back and rolled into the surging ranks of soldiers, his fate unknown.

Ma Han knew that even if he was extraordinary, if he didn't escape the chaos of the battlefield in time, he would eventually be exhausted and killed.

Taking advantage of the enemy not forming a complete encirclement, especially the dozen or so crossbowmen who were struggling to draw their crossbows, Ma Han leaped backward, twisted his body in mid-air, and used his back to knock down three or four crossbowmen.

Ma Han sheathed the sword on his back, quickly picked up a large crossbow, and grabbed a handful of arrows, biting them in his mouth. With his right hand, he hooked the string, drew it, and released an arrow, killing a cavalryman. He repeated the process and killed another cavalryman.

The nearly a hundred cavalry and infantry soldiers who were advancing in a semi-encirclement let out a chorus of gasps, as if they had seen something unbelievable—indeed, it was unbelievable. This was a waist-drawn crossbow, not a foot-drawn or hand-drawn crossbow.

According to the "Wubei Zhi," "Crossbows are drawn by the weak with their feet, and by the strong with their waist." The waist-drawn crossbow is the most strenuous to use. When using it, one must sit flat on the ground, place the crossbow in front, and use both feet to press the bow. Then, using the waist hook, hook the string and pull it back with the combined strength of the arms, feet, and waist... Only after this could the string be drawn. Without a strong and muscular person, how could one maintain a straight back? To pull such a powerful crossbow with just two fingers, how strong must this person be?

"Shoot! Shoot quickly!" A military officer with a bloodied face leaped out from the enemy ranks, pointing at Ma Han and shouting.

This guy wasn't flattened, he must have a strong fate.

Ma Han's pupils contracted, and he gripped the sword and crossbow in both hands. What should he do? Is he going to die just after crossing over?

"Little brother, get on the horse!"

Behind him, a series of rapid hoofbeats and a powerful voice echoed.

Ma Han turned his head and saw a group of white horse cavalrymen galloping towards him, each holding a strong bow, their arrows drawn like a hedgehog. The one speaking was a tall and imposing cavalry officer, wearing armor and a helmet, with a sword brow and bright eyes, exuding a heroic aura.

These cavalrymen, while on horseback, aimed their arrows at the enemy surrounding Ma Han. As the horses leaped to their highest point, there was a moment of stillness. At this moment, the bowstrings rang out, and the arrows were released. Although only dozens of arrows were fired, they were as swift and fierce as a hundred.

The enemy crossbowmen let out cries of pain and fell to the ground. The officer's eyes were bloodshot, and he shouted commands, refusing to retreat.

The white horse cavalry officer extended his hand to Ma Han: "Little brother, get on the horse quickly."

Ma Han leaped onto the horse, and suddenly felt a strong wind on his back. Without turning his head, he swung his arm to block. Clang! A long sword with a curled blade was knocked far away.

Behind him, several dozen yards away, the young military officer, holding an empty scabbard in one hand and wiping blood from his face with the other, stared at Ma Han's back, his eyes filled with anger and confusion.

Under the leadership of this heroic cavalry officer, the thirty or so white horse archers galloped forward, firing arrows in all directions, causing the enemy to scatter, and they broke through the encirclement.

Turning his head to look at the enemy troops gradually retreating, Ma Han felt a mix of relief and frustration: "I'm already in my thirties and haven't been a leader for years. I wonder if this white horse cavalry officer is even thirty. Why does he call me 'little brother'? Is his eyesight poor, or is there something wrong with my ears?"

...

In a spacious tent that could accommodate dozens of people, Ma Han stood proudly, with a row of civil and military officers on either side. He only recognized the white horse cavalry officer standing at the end. Most of the officers looked at him with suspicion, given his strange appearance and unknown background. Only two officers looked at him with friendliness: the white horse cavalry officer and a middle-aged civil officer with a broad face, large ears, and a three-strand beard, who always wore a gentle smile.

In the center of the tent, a long table was placed, and behind it sat a robust general who had just removed his heavy armor. His eyebrows were thick, like two iron brushes, his eye sockets slightly sunken, his eyes burning with flames, and his lips tightly pressed, making his beard bristle.

At this moment, the general was staring intently at a large crossbow on the table: the bow was five feet long, almost as tall as a person, the arm three feet long, as thick as a child's arm; the front had a bronze frame, the middle had a leather string, and the end had a crossbow mechanism, with a sight, trigger, and blade, the string strong and the bow force equivalent to about 300 pounds.

Suddenly, he stood up, grabbed a large sword from the table, and struck it heavily. Crack! The crossbow broke.

"This is the thing that killed my general and destroyed my 'White Horse Righteous Followers'! My comrades, my 800 soldiers! My 3,000 men!" The general threw the sword to the ground and let out a mournful cry to the sky.

"Lord, take care!" The civil and military officers in the tent all raised their sleeves and arms, bowed their heads, and respectfully advised.

Ma Han originally stood still, but seeing the white horse cavalry officer constantly signaling to him, he imitated the others, mechanically clasping his hands and slowly bowing.

At this moment, the broad-faced, large-eared officer said, "Lord, fortunately, a hero has descended from heaven, killing the traitor Qu and relieving our army's distress. This is a sign of heaven's assistance to Lord and our army. I hope Lord will inspire the troops and fight against the Yuan army again."

"Please, Lord, inspire the troops and fight against the Yuan army again!"

The tent was filled with enthusiastic voices.

A defeated army needs to boost morale to revive. This was known by everyone in the tent, from the general to the clerks.

The general nodded, his face slightly easing, and gazed at the large sword in his hand, its blade gleaming and sharp, with the inscription "Qu's Hundred Refinements" on the hilt.

"Indeed, it is the traitor Qu's personal sword. Very good." The general's gaze finally turned to Ma Han, standing below, his robust and heroic figure making the general nod repeatedly, "Who are you? Why are you here?"

"Finally, you see me, right?" Ma Han suppressed his annoyance and respectfully replied, "My name is Ma Han, from Julu. I was forcibly conscripted by the traitor Qu, and my father died of illness due to worry. I deeply hate him and must kill the traitor Qu to avenge my father. Today, during the fierce battle, I used the convenience of being a guard to assassinate him."

Ma Han had thought of this reason on his way, and to this end, he had wrapped his short hair with a blue cloth and borrowed a set of clothes from the white horse cavalry officer to cover his modern camouflage uniform, which, though tattered, was completely different from ancient clothing. He said he was from Julu because in the future, he was from Julu, Hebei. As for the enemy general he killed, he didn't know who it was, but calling him "traitor Qu" was safe.

When Ma Han said this, a civil officer at the head of the table immediately said, "Lord, this man is disloyal, with a fierce look, and is not from a good family. He should not be kept in the army. Please, Lord, reward him and let him leave."

But the broad-faced, large-eared officer said, "This is a mistake, Chief Guan. The traitor Qu forcibly conscripted young men and caused the death of a father, which is an irreconcilable hatred. This brave man endured and waited for the right moment, killing his enemy, avenging his personal grudge, and also avenging the army. What is wrong with that? Our Han dynasty values filial piety, and this act should be praised, not blamed. This brave man successfully assassinated the traitor Qu in the midst of thousands of soldiers, showing great agility and courage. Such a talent, Lord, should not be missed."

The officers in the tent nodded in agreement, all saying, "Commander Liu's words are reasonable."

The general pondered for a moment, seemingly making a decision, and asked, "Ma Han, do you have a courtesy name?"

Ma Han thought for a moment. In ancient times, people had both a given name and a courtesy name. If so, he might as well follow the custom. He then replied, "Ma Han's courtesy name is Jinglong."

Jinglong was Ma Han's nickname when he dominated Chinatown, and it was also a good choice for a courtesy name.

"Ma Jinglong, what a powerful name." Having a courtesy name indicated that this person was not a rustic, and could be promoted with confidence. The general struck the table and said solemnly, "The righteous man from Julu, Ma Han, killed the general Qu Yi under Yuan Shao, achieving the greatest merit in this battle. Reward him with 50,000 coins, ten bolts of silk, ten bolts of cloth, ten jars of wine, twenty cattle and sheep, fifty acres of prime land, a house, ten servants, and a fourth-rank title. Appoint him as the commander of the scout unit."

When Ma Han walked out of the tent, he was still a bit dazed—not because of the rewards, but because he finally knew—

"Yuan Shao! Qu Yi! So, I have come to the end of the Han dynasty, the Three Kingdoms era. Then, the general just now must be..."

"Little brother, well done, getting so many rewards. But you deserve them, hahaha!" The voice of the white horse cavalry officer and the sound of patting Ma Han's shoulder echoed behind him.

Ma Han turned and clasped his hands, "Thank you, brother, for saving me, and for the clothes."

The white horse cavalry officer laughed and returned the gesture, "No, I should thank you! I thank you on behalf of my old brothers from Changshan and the White Horse Righteous Followers. If not for your killing of Qu Yi, the White Horse Righteous Followers would have suffered more deaths, and my brothers from Changshan would have faced great danger. If that happened, how could I face their parents back home? You saved my brothers, and thus saved me."

Ma Han had a good impression of the white horse cavalry officer and smiled, "If so, let's consider it even. I hope you will guide me in the future."

The white horse cavalry officer smiled, "I dare not guide, but if you need anything, just come to the Righteous Followers camp and mention my name."

"What is your name, brother?"

"I am the commander of the White Horse Righteous Followers, surnamed Zhao, named Yun, and my courtesy name is Zilong."

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