Chapter 412: Where Did These Government Troops Come From?

At that moment, several bands of roving bandits had just surged near Linhanmen, flaunting their might, when suddenly an unending rumble rang out and a troop of cavalry eerily emerged from the city gate.

The instant they appeared, an icy chill spread through the air around the gate.

"What is this?"

"Gov... government troops?"

This cavalry troop charged closer and closer, swiftly forming a column five riders abreast, and by now the bandit horsemen could clearly see what those cavalrymen looked like.

They rode uniformly tall, powerful horses, every rider clad in fiery red cotton armor so stiff it was surely lined with iron plates underneath. They all wore bowl-shaped iron helmets with red tassels flying high, and the red cotton armor surfaces were studded with thick brass nails that gleamed with a chilling metallic light.

Where had this army come from, to make one's heart pound so?

Before the bandits could react, the cavalry accelerated, heavy hooves pounding the bluestone street with a dull roar. Their icy lances pointed at the panic-stricken bandits, they surged forward like a tidal wave.

"It's government troops!"

The bandits let out shrill, terrified screams.

"Quick, face the enemy..."

Many shouted in despair, but they were clustered in a mob with no formation whatsoever, their horses not even at full gallop — how could they fight back?

Before they could figure out a response, those cavalrymen had already crashed into them without mercy.

Men screamed, horses shrieked, a chorus of agonized howls — those bandit horsemen were sent flying, riders and mounts alike toppling over.

The cavalry's heavy lances pierced through chests and thrust on without pause. Several Shunxiang Army soldiers in the front rank even skewered multiple bandits one after another on their lances, stringing them together.

For a time, on the northern street near Linhanmen, the thick stench of blood spread, mingling with the clatter of weapons and the piercing death screams that rose one after another.

The fighting was brief but fierce. After the front-rank Shunxiang cavalry smashed through the bandit formation, they did not stop, pressing on with blade and lance to continue the slaughter.

The bandits who survived by luck were left for the comrades coming up behind to finish off.

"Kill every last bandit!"

More and more Shunxiang cavalry poured through Linhanmen into the northern street, maintaining their five-abreast charge formation as they rolled forward along the main thoroughfare.

Xiangyang's main streets were flat and broad, especially the east-west and north-south avenues, each three or four li long and seven or eight zhang wide — not difficult at all to keep a five-abreast charge formation.

Every bandit cavalry unit they met along the way was routed in a single clash. In the bandits' eyes, these government troops were all heavy armor on heavy horses, advancing with the force of an avalanche — how could anyone resist such rolling might? They all frantically wheeled their horses and fled.

Not only the fleeing bandits, but even the Xiangyang commoners taking refuge in the streets scrambled to get out of the way at the sight of those charging cavalrymen.

They recalled the proclamation just now, saying that the Dingguo General from East Road of Xuanfu Garrison had led troops to the rescue. Those who had heard of Wang Dou's name felt even more at ease — seeing the majesty of the imperial troops, the bandits were in trouble now.

They either pressed themselves tight against the street edges to avoid being trampled by the cavalry charge, or ducked into alleyways and headed straight home through familiar lanes to wait out the chaos.

Wang Dou's entire army entered the city. Aside from dispatching one company of cavalry to the west gate and another to the east gate well, the rest followed him south toward the Prince of Xiang's residence.

Riding along Xiangyang's broad north main street, his own powerful cavalry rolling ahead of him, Wang Dou's heart was light with satisfaction — Xiangyang was already as good as settled.

At that moment, Zhang Xianzhong, who had entered through the west gate and just led his troops to Wangfu Street near the Prince of Xiang's residence — the place later known as Lüyingbi Alley — heard the Shunxiang Army's battle cries, followed by a proclamation in a northern accent declaring that the Dingguo General had come to the rescue.

He roared, "What is going on? Where did these government troops come from? And who is this Wang Dou?"

Li Dingguo looked thoughtful. "Wang Dou... I seem to have heard that name before."

Sun Kewang, broad-shouldered and powerfully built, wore heavy armor rare among the rebel army, his face twisted with savagery. He cried, "Father Marshal, let your son take some old-camp brothers over there. Whatever government troops have come, your son will slaughter them down to the last man!"

Zhang Xianzhong was about to speak when he heard the thunder of hooves from the north of the city, followed by waves of wailing. Soon he saw his own men fleeing in utter disarray. At first they came in twos and threes, then in whole swarms, every face stricken with terror, weeping and wailing, saying only that they had run into government troops — fearsome ones.

Some routed soldiers even galloped straight out of the city, ignoring Zhang Xianzhong their commander entirely. These were his elite riders, yet now reduced to this — clearly showing the sheer terror the government troops had struck into them.

Zhang Xianzhong grew even angrier and ordered several of the fleeing men beheaded on the spot, but it did little good.

And by now, the rumbling of hooves was drawing closer — clearly a large force of government cavalry had already charged in.

Seeing the unrest spreading among those around him, Zhang Xianzhong ground his teeth. "I went through hell to take Xiangyang City — who dares snatch the peach from my hand? What are government troops to me? I've fought them before! That Meng Ruhu they call a fierce general — didn't I cut down his son and his nephew?"

He slashed his hand through the air. "Boys, all of you follow me! I refuse to believe those government troops have three heads and six arms — I'll beat them!"

Zhang Xianzhong had immense combat experience and knew that in the confines of a city, elite cavalry could not maneuver well. Better to dismount and fight on foot, using strong bows and powerful crossbows to shoot down those government troops. If they could withstand one wave, the cavalry behind would lose their momentum and be at his mercy.

Under Zhang Xianzhong's command, the old-camp bandits wheeled back onto the south main street, joined by his adopted son Ai Nengqi leading several hundred men in support from the palace square. The elite riders gathered around Zhang Xianzhong now numbered over a thousand. Most of these men could shoot strong bows and powerful arrows.

They arrayed several ranks of archers across the main street, with dense ranks of shield-and-blade close-combat fighters behind them. Zhang Xianzhong had originally wanted to lead his troops to the south street entrance to fight, where the ground was more open, but the government troops were already charging in — there was no time to deploy, so they waited here.

They did not have to wait long. The thunder of hooves came rolling down the main street, from the north avenue all the way into the south avenue.

At last, the charging elite cavalry of the government troops came into view before Zhang Xianzhong and his men.

Zhang Xianzhong could not help sucking in a cold breath. "Where did these government troops come from, to be so crack?"

The Great Ming's cavalry all wore armor, and though these government troops were in cotton armor and rode tall warhorses — which surprised Zhang Xianzhong somewhat — it was not enough to overly startle a man of his vast experience.

Embroidered pillow troops — he had seen countless such in his military career. What shook Zhang Xianzhong was this army's bearing, its killing aura — something only an army forged through a hundred battles, crawling out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood, could possess.

For a military commander, especially a veteran bandit chieftain, reading aura was the foremost skill — one could judge a unit's combat ability from its martial bearing, morale, and conduct.

Zhang Xianzhong's expression grew grave. No wonder the brothers on the north street had collapsed so quickly — against government troops like these, it was no surprise.

It seemed a bitter battle lay ahead.

Still, he had confidence. Under the volleys of strong bows and crossbows from his old-camp warriors, this cavalry unit would not break through. The streets were narrow, unlike open country — the cavalry's advantages could not be brought to bear.

But to Zhang Xianzhong's disappointment, those cavalrymen slowly came to a halt two hundred paces away. Then some orders rang out from that side, and very quickly, the cavalry withdrew, and a body of matchlock soldiers appeared before Zhang Xianzhong and his men.

These matchlock soldiers seemed even better equipped — not the cotton armor the cavalry had worn earlier, but uniform iron helmets and iron armor, the armor plates exposed, all in bright-armor style. The matchlocks in their hands were also somewhat peculiar, seemingly longer than the matchlocks anyone had seen before.