Chapter 291: Beheading

"The Tartar camp has been breached!"

Amid shouts of "Ten thousand victories," Han Chao's Jia Division Shunxiang Army, Wen Fangliang's Bing Division troops, and Yang Guodong's Supervisory Battalion warriors surged like a flood into the Qing grand camp.

Their voices swept through the entire Wang Dou central army formation, stirred the six thousand civilian laborers on the battlefield, and even roused the shouts of the common people at several gathering points to the south — over a hundred thousand voices crying out together, forming a mountain-roaring, sea-howling sound of "Ten thousand victories."

"The camp has been breached?"

Upon receiving the news, Yang Guozheng's battalion attacking the camp's western face, as well as Hu Dawei and Xu Yue'e's forces attacking the northern face, could hardly believe it. They were still trading blows with the Qing troops outside the camp, grinding and dawdling — they never imagined that Wang Dou's army on the front face had already stormed into the Qing grand camp, and it was... not even noon yet.

The Qing soldiers on the observation wall were fleeing in defeat, and from the south came wave after wave of exultant shouting — how could it be false?

Yang Guozhu and Hu Dawei made an immediate decision and ordered the entire army to attack and pursue. Besides leading their troops flooding into the camp from two sides like the tide, they also dispatched large bodies of cavalry to the eastern side to intercept and slaughter.

At this moment, still in Wang Dou's formation were Zhong Xiancai's Yi Division, Li Guangheng's Geng Division four hundred cavalry, and Wen Daxing's Ji Division Company Commander's one squad of Night Scouts — the rest had all been sent out scouting. Seeing the Plain Red Banner Qing troops collapsing like a mountain, how could Wang Dou not understand the principle of pursuing while victory was hot?

He immediately barked orders for Zhong Xiancai, Li Guangheng, and Wen Daxing to give chase. He instructed the three: "Company Commander Zhong, lead your troops around to the camp's eastern side, form up your musket soldiers to shoot down the fleeing slaves, and use your pikemen and saber-and-shield men in formation to charge and kill. Company Commander Li, Company Commander Wen, you two lead the cavalry in pursuit — you must take the head of the slave chieftain Yoto!"

The three departed in high spirits. At this moment, besides his own headquarters guards, Wang Dou had only Sun Sanjie's Wu Division, nearly eight hundred logistics troops, and Zhao Xuan's Xin Division three hundred artillerymen who had been gathered back. But with the Plain Red Banner routed and fleeing for their lives, Wang Dou had nothing to worry about.

The six thousand civilian laborers had also been gathered behind Wang Dou's formation. Watching the great army sweep mightily into the enemy camp, they gasped at one another, their faces full of disbelief. General Wang's soldiers were too... too ferocious! The Tartar soldiers, whom they had always feared like tigers, had been defeated just like that? They had heard that inside that Tartar camp, including the second Tartar prince himself, there were eight thousand men. They had only held out for this short while and had been broken just like that? Could General Wang's soldiers be heavenly troops and generals descended to the mortal world?

Wu Daben stood among the crowd, looking as if he were about to weep, and said repeatedly, "Not human, they're not human..."

The Company Commander Liu beside him had lost his composed and profound expression and was only muttering to himself, "So fierce, so fierce!"

Chen Xu gazed at the sky, hot tears streaming from his eyes: "Second Brother, Third Brother, if your spirits are watching from heaven, General Wang has avenged you..."

"Ama, hurry, hurry..."

Yoto's eldest son, Luoluohong, and second son, Luoluohuan, burst wildly into the fort. Luoluohong's mercury-bright armor was covered in bloodstains — whether his own or Ming soldiers', no one knew. Luoluohuan's helmet was gone altogether, the money-pig-tail at the back of his head had come loose, and it seemed he had been slashed across the right side of his face, blood streaming down, his appearance like a demon.

"The banner's brave warriors have scattered, Ming troops keep pouring in — if we don't leave now, it'll be too late!"

Luoluohuan screamed hoarsely, but Yoto was simply dazed and despondent, staring blankly at the scene in the camp below the fort. Over there... countless Qing soldiers were fleeing in rout, throwing away their helmets and armor, even killing each other to seize horses, and there was no longer any distinction between bondservants and bannermen...

Those aha, each laden with bundles large and small, not content with leading just one horse, some were leading three or four. These Mongol, Han, and Korean menial servants and slaves, so utterly submissive in days past, were now striking out at their masters, looting valuables everywhere, even running about setting fires with torches, then fleeing for their lives in a mad dash.

Among the banner's brave warriors, facing the flood of Ming troops pouring in, few even thought of resisting. They preferred to turn their backs to the enemy, to be overtaken and killed one by one. Even more knelt on the ground and surrendered — whether armored men, unarmored bannermen, or menial aha... heaps of people knelt all over the ground, begging the Ming troops to spare their lives.

Many captured Ming women and commoners who had burst out from the camp gnashed their teeth and threw themselves upon them, punching and kicking, picking up stones or wooden clubs and beating them wildly about the head. These men, their faces streaming blood, dared not lift a finger in retaliation, and many were beaten to death on the ground without uttering a sound.

Even more people fled from the camp's eastern side like a tide — some with horses, some without — all jammed together in a mass. To seize a path of escape, those with weapons in hand did not hesitate to swing their blades at the fellow bannermen beside them...

Watching all this, Yoto raised his head to the sky and laughed bitterly. He had spent so many years in arms, rampaging across the lands of the Great Ming — he had never imagined a day like this would come.

"Never imagined it, never imagined it!"

Yoto laughed bitterly and wailed in a shrill, drawn-out howl.

"Take Ama away!"

Seeing that Yoto seemed to have lost his mind, Luoluohong and Luoluohuan did not bother to argue and hoisted Yoto up and left. At this moment, Luoluohong still had some Bayara soldiers around him, and Luoluohuan also had some armored soldiers from his niru — together they numbered about six or seven hundred men. They went to the horse pens in various parts of the camp to seize horses, each man grabbing one or two.

Then, shielding Yoto, they formed one great mass of the fiercest escapees, charging and trampling countless fleeing people to death along the way, directly stomping open a bloody path and galloping madly toward the camp's eastern side. They knew the Ming army's tactic of surrounding on three sides and leaving one open, but at this moment they could no longer care about that.

Han Chao, the Supervisory Battalion, and Wen Fangliang's great army stormed into the Plain Red Banner camp, still using their war wagons for layered cover... Behind each war wagon were several ranks of musket soldiers. When they encountered large groups of the enemy, they fired their muskets. Then, on both flanks of the musket soldiers, pikemen or saber-and-shield men provided protection. They advanced neither hastily nor slowly, pushing forward layer by layer.

At first, some Plain Red Banner Qing soldiers attempted to throw themselves forward in a desperate fight, but faced with the deadly musket smoke of the Shunxiang Army and the forest-like array of pikes and sabers, they fell back after leaving corpse after corpse behind.

As the war wagons advanced and the main body of the Shunxiang Army poured in, and as Yang Guozhu's and Hu Dawei's great armies entered from the other two sides, the Manchu Plain Red Banner soldiers completely collapsed. There was no longer any resistance inside the camp — before their eyes was only the sight of countless Qing soldiers fleeing like wolves and rushing like wild boars.

The outcome was decided; a great victory was inevitable.

Gao Shiyin was in high spirits, the fierce flesh of his face twitching violently as he bellowed, "Chase, chase, chase! Press, press, press! Crush them to death, haha!"

Snot kept running from his nose from the cold, yet he was utterly unaware of it, only directing his troops to advance continuously. In his heart, he was extremely satisfied — after this battle, the rank of Company Commander was surely his.

On the other flank of Jia Division, Squad Commanders Wu Zhengchun and Gao Xun were more cautious, still directing the war wagons to push forward layer by layer, maximizing the pressure on the Qing troops' collapsing speed. They were like tanks of later ages, rolling over all resisting forces, scattering them, routing them, and forcing them to flee.

As for the minor mopping-up, that was naturally left to the troops of Company Commander Wen Fangliang's Bing Division, who were following up behind.

Han Chao's Jia Division and the Supervisory Battalion soldiers, pushing forward with their war wagons, had nearly reached Gaocun Fort at the very center of the camp when they saw a large body of cavalry flee from before them toward the camp's eastern side. Their musket soldiers hurriedly fired a volley, and nearly a hundred men and horses tumbled and rolled to the ground. The remaining cavalry, heedless of anything, still charged madly in that direction, colliding with and trampling countless people blocking their path along the way.

"Judging by their armor, those fleeing are very likely Yoto and his party!"

Supervisory Battalion Company Commander Yang Guodong urgently said to Han Chao, "Company Commander Han, our force must send men in pursuit to prevent the slave chieftain Yoto from escaping."

Han Chao looked at that fleeing body of Qing cavalry — all in uniform bright red heavy armor, and among them the gleaming mercury-bright armor of Bayara soldiers. He even seemed to catch sight of someone among them wearing gilded armor. It must be Yoto without a doubt. If they could slay Yoto, it would indeed be an extraordinary feat, but...

He shook his head and said, "The General has surely sent men to intercept and kill on the eastern side, not to mention that Military Commander Yang and Military Commander Hu will certainly send troops in pursuit — they won't escape... Brother Yang, we had best follow the earlier plan and sweep the remaining enemies inside the camp."

Yang Guodong sighed. That the great merit of slaying the slave chieftain could not fall into his own hands was truly regrettable. But Han Chao's reasoning was correct. Since he had decided to pledge allegiance to Mobile Corps Commander General Wang Dou, it was best to follow the General's earlier arrangements and plans.

Zhong Xiancai led his Yi Division soldiers and formed up outside the eastern gate of the Plain Red Banner Qing camp. Here, just like the other three sides, there were likewise three passageways, with low walls and trenches for the rest. Yoto had set up such defenses originally for the sake of a strong defense — he never imagined they would now become an obstacle to their flight.

When the Shunxiang Army stormed into the camp's southern face, fleeing crowds began to appear here, and finally great masses of men and horses jammed together. With only three passageways, the dense crowd of men and horses trying to flee collapsed the three camp gates on the spot.

Especially at the central main camp gate, the fleeing crowd was packed like sardines in a tin. Countless people were crushed or suffocated to death, and even larger numbers of fleeing Qing soldiers were knocked to the ground, after which footsteps and horse hooves trampled them, stomping them alive into bloody pulp.

The Qing men and horses who escaped the camp did not dare even glance at Zhong Xiancai's Yi Division, which was formed up fifty paces to the left of the first low wall at the main camp gate. They frantically urged their horses on, fleeing toward the opposite bank of the Liuli River, whipping their horses at full gallop, hoping only that they themselves could flee a little faster.

The Yi Division musket soldiers were arrayed in four ranks, each rank a Squad Commander with over a hundred musket soldiers. With perfect composure, they fired volley after volley at the crowds fleeing from the main camp gate, mowing them down in swathes from the flank. No one dared charge up to attack them, making these musket soldiers' shooting like target practice.

Of the Yi Division's four ranks of pikemen and saber-and-shield men, two ranks guarded the musket soldiers, while two ranks turned to face this side, preventing the Qing troops at the small passageway a hundred paces away from charging up.

The crowd of fleeing Qing troops at that passageway was even denser — after all, the passageway was narrower, only ten paces wide. Near them, Li Guangheng and Wen Daxing led their cavalry and Night Scouts, standing by with covetous eyes, from time to time delivering a flanking slash at the Qing troops who emerged, accelerating the panic of their rout.

And on the northern part of the camp's eastern side, Yang Guozhu's, Hu Dawei's, and Xu Yue'e's pursuing troops had already arrived. Their cavalry shouted and cheered, hacking and slaughtering the Qing soldiers who had fled to the banks of the Liuli River. Even more men crossed to the eastern bank of the Liuli River, relentlessly pursuing and fiercely attacking the Qing troops scattered across the open fields.

A rout like a mountain crumbling — that was the scene before their eyes. Great mass after great mass of Qing troops surged out from the camp's eastern side, so many that no matter how many Zhong Xiancai's musket soldiers killed, they could not keep up. In the end, Zhong Xiancai ordered a ceasefire and chose some valuable targets to shoot down.

After the Liujing Fort reorganization, many of the soldiers under Zhong Xiancai's command were newly replenished recruits, but after today's battle, their minds rapidly matured. The Tartars, whose awe-inspiring reputation had been so exaggerated in the past, were nothing more than this. They finished loading their fixed paper cartridge ammunition, and since Company Commander Zhong had not given the order to fire again, they simply stood there dumbly waiting.

When Qing troops fleeing the camp inadvertently glanced toward Zhong Xiancai's position and saw his great army arrayed in solemn formation, they all jumped in fright. They could not even flee fast enough — how would they dare entertain the slightest thought of charging the formation? That those terrifying Ming soldiers of Wang Dou's force did not charge at them was already cause enough to thank heaven and earth.

Watching Tartar soldiers of all shapes and sizes flee in terror just a few dozen paces ahead of them, yet with none daring to charge up, the heroic spirit in the hearts of the Yi Division musket soldiers swelled to the bursting point. Those pikemen and saber-and-shield men were also rubbing their fists and wiping their palms, longing for their own chance to go into battle and kill the enemy.

"Fire!"

Zhong Xiancai finally spotted a valuable target. Several hundred Qing cavalry came charging and smashing out wildly. Judging by their armor, they were at least Bayara soldiers and heavy-armored troops of the Tartar Plain Red Banner — there was a very high chance that important figures were hidden among them.

The deafening sound of volley fire rang out again, forming another long belt of gunpowder smoke near this camp gate. Such flanking firepower, such dense bullet rain — after four ranks of musket volleys, nearly half of the five or six hundred Plain Red Banner armored soldiers who had charged out had fallen, men and horses alike, creating even more corpses, wounded, and fresh blood around this camp gate.

Zhong Xian saw a man in gilded armor tumble to the ground along with his horse, seemingly struggling to rise, while several Bayara soldiers rushed past him to attempt a rescue. Zhong Xian jolted back to full alertness: "The Plain Red Banner slave chieftain, Yoto!"

"It's Yoto — kill him!"

His voice instantly merged into a single roar: "Kill Yoto! Kill Yoto!"

Dense, layered ranks of Yi Division pikemen and sword-and-shield soldiers formed battle arrays and closed in from all sides, while the arquebusiers likewise drew their waist sabers and prepared for combat. The shouts also drew the attention of Li Guangheng and Wen Daxing's cavalry night scouts not far away, and even larger bodies of troops under Yang Guozhu and Hu Dawei pricked up their ears and listened intently.

……

There was no escape. Yoto and his two sons, Luo Luohong and Luo Luohuan, all drew their weapons and fought with frenzied desperation. Before them, Ming blade-array and spear-forest stretched dense and impenetrable. They and the Bayara soldiers beside them beat back one wave only for another to surge forward. One by one, the Plain Red Banner heavy-armored soldiers and Bayara warriors around them were slain, and the horses beside them were speared to the ground.

In this kind of formation battle — especially with the Shunxiang Army's expertise in coordinated assault techniques — even though many of the Yi Division soldiers were newly trained troops with little drill time, facing their spear-forest and blade-array, no matter how fierce those Plain Red Banner heavy-armored soldiers were, it was futile. Seeing that the Ming troops were about to complete their encirclement, Yoto suddenly grew calm and said to his two sons, "You two break out — do not worry about me!"

Luo Luohong and Luo Luohuan cried out, "Ama, we leave together!"

Yoto shook his head. "Wang Dou desires my death to satisfy his heart. If I flee, you will not escape."

He felt his body on the verge of collapse. He had long been gravely ill, and now, after this bout of combat, he felt even less able to hold on. He suddenly roared, "Go, now!"

Tears streaming, Luo Luohong and Luo Luohuan kowtowed several times to Yoto, then brandished their weapons and charged away in a frenzy. Each seized a horse, gathered some men around them, and fought their way out at a desperate gallop.

Watching his two sons flee, Yoto felt comfort in his heart. He summoned his last reserves of valor and bellowed, "I am a beile of the Great Qing, the gūsa ejen of the Manchu Plain Red Banner! If you want to kill me, you will pay with your lives!"

Howling, he swung his blade in wild, chaotic slashes. He had already suffered wounds in several places, and his entire body was drenched in blood. The few dozen men left beside him died one by one. Just as he hacked down a Shunxiang Army pikeman and severed several thrusting spears, he suddenly heard a roar of shouts — several spears pierced through his gilded armor and drove deep into his body.

Yoto screamed fiercely, swung his blade, and severed several spearheads — but then heard another great cry as several more spears plunged into his body again.

Yoto felt every ounce of strength drain from his entire body and vanish. Staring at the spears in his flesh, he let out a harsh, bitter laugh.

"Kill!"

Another wave of spears thrust forward, piercing through Yoto's body from front and back, left and right. A dozen Shunxiang Army pikemen hoisted his corpse aloft on their spears and cheered loudly. As their shouts spread, a heaven-shaking, earth-covering roar of exultation rose across the battlefield: "Yoto is dead! Yoto is dead!"