The Armored Guards of the Flourishing Tang Dynasty
The Black Armored Army, clad in black uniforms and dark armor, was resolute and formidable, invincible in every engagement, feared by all enemies! — From the "Comprehensive Mirror to Aid in Government." At the founding of the Great Tang, the sixteen elite armies stood as an awe-inspiring force, undefeated in battle. Yet, among them, the Black Armored Army was the most elite of all, the very core of Emperor Li Shimin’s loyal troops. They once shattered Dou Jiande’s army of a hundred thousand with just a thousand men! Now, a soul from a thousand years in the future is thrust into this era—what changes will he bring to the Black Armored Army, to this glorious age of the Tang Dynasty? Faced with the haughty Turks, the long-standing rival Goguryeo, the rising power of Tibet, the wolfish ambitions of the Eastern Isles, the fickle Western Regions, and the rapidly expanding Arab Empire, Li Mingyu stands tall and declares with a proud smile, “Submit, or be destroyed!” The thunderous hooves of warhorses trample countless borders beneath them; wherever the black dragon banner of my Black Armored Army points, victory follows without fail! This story is grounded in the gritty reality of warfare, focusing on grand, authentic battles of cold steel. It is the tale of a band of passionate men fighting across the battlefield, subduing all who oppose them. There are no cheats, no leaps up the tree of technology—Tang remains Tang. With blades in hand, spears at the ready, horses beneath them, and bows at their waists, they carve out the awe-inspiring might and eternal renown of the Tang Dynasty!
The Armored Guards of the Flourishing Tang Dynasty
Zhongnanshan, since ancient times, has been a sacred land of Daoism.
The mountains rise high, with clear waters winding through jagged peaks; strange rocks and mysterious caves abound, emerald pools shimmer beneath cascading waterfalls, and the scenery shifts with endless variety. Ancient trees tower skyward, exotic flowers and rare herbs flourish everywhere, and now and then the cries of wild beasts and birds echo through the woods. After a light rain, the mountain mists swirl and coil, veiling the land in ethereal haze; it truly resembles a realm of immortals, worthy of being hailed as the most blessed grotto heaven under the sky.
Yet amidst this picturesque scene, a jarring sight appeared: a tall young man, covered in blood, raced desperately through the dense forest, a giant mountaineering backpack weighing down his shoulders, his breath ragged and heavy.
He could no longer hear the sounds of pursuit behind him—perhaps he had pulled far enough ahead, or maybe his pursuers had given up and fled down the mountain. For now, at least, he was safe.
The young man’s name was Li Ming. He was thirty years old and had once served as a close-combat instructor in a special forces brigade. He had represented his military district in all-army competitions, and his prospects should have been bright.
Unfortunately, Li Ming was a man of unrestrained spirit, quick-tempered and forthright. As his old commander would say, he carried too much of the roguish air of the martial world—reckless, heedless of consequence, and so stubborn that he’d dare poke a hole
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