Chapter 711: Trampling Yanran, Chasing the Hu Sons

"Ten thousand victories, ten thousand victories!"

Amid heaven-covering cheers, the main force of the Pacifying the Frontier Army converged.

On this day, the thirteenth of the ninth month in the fifteenth year of Chongzhen, Wang Dou personally led the Guard Battalion, the Central Army Cavalry Battalion, Wen Fangliang and Gao Shiyin's Azure Dragon and Vermilion Bird Feathered Cavalry, plus some fighters from the Loyalty and Righteousness Battalion and the Vanguard Scout Battalion — nearly twenty thousand cavalry, all First-Class troops — skirting the eastern foothills of the Great Green Mountains along Pacifying-the-Barbarian Lake, crossing the Sanbuchuan plain, traveling day and night without rest, and finally arriving near the banks of the Little Yellow River close to noon.

By this time, the two banners of the Tumed tribe were already not far from the edge of the barren, desolate desert and Gobi. Han Chao, leading the Black Tortoise Army's Feathered Cavalry, together with Zeng Jiuyi's Newly Attached Mongol Battalion and Wang Pu's Datong Army Main Battalion, was doggedly harrying them, leaving them no choice but to immediately abandon all their tribal people, horses, cattle, and sheep and flee lightly mounted.

Clearly, Guluge and the others were loath to give up their possessions, which bought time for Wang Dou's main force to arrive.

The window of battle was fleeting. Wang Dou had no time for pleasantries with Wang Pu, Han Chao, and the others. He immediately deployed for battle, personally leading his commanders up a hill to survey the situation. He saw the main Mongol force fighting like cornered beasts, clustered tightly together, intending to launch a final counterattack.

He decided to strike in one surge and immediately directed the great army to form up on the plain.

The great formation had the Central Army Cavalry Battalion as its sharp core. At the very front were the 3,500 lance cavalry of the Left Battalion. Immediately behind them came the saber cavalry of the Rear Battalion's first company. At Wang Pu's vehement insistence, his Main Battalion's mounted troops also followed behind the dense forward ranks.

On the two wings were one battalion each of Feathered Cavalry from Wen Fangliang's Azure Dragon Army and Gao Shiyin's Vermilion Bird Army, every man likewise wielding a saber, giving the great formation's charge an extremely broad front.

The fighters of the Loyalty and Righteousness Battalion and the Newly Attached Battalion served as scattered riders, dispersed either on the wings or behind the formation to guard against the Tatar cavalry's "Crow Troops Scattering Stars" tactic. The Vanguard Scout Battalion did the same.

Han Chao led the Black Tortoise Army's Feathered Cavalry, massed at the foot of the hill, as a reserve and the second wave of attack. But Wang Dou felt that with nearly twenty thousand cavalry charging forward like thunder in a dense wall formation, the twenty thousand Mongol riders of Guluge and the others could not possibly withstand it.

In particular, the Central Army Cavalry Battalion led by Li Guangheng was the most regular cavalry unit of the Pacifying the Frontier Army. They were a full battalion of men, each wielding a fine lance and riding a fat, sturdy warhorse. While other battalions on the long-distance raid had horses that grew weary or sick and died, they still maintained high combat effectiveness.

With the Han army gathered, the enemy riders massed opposite could surely be destroyed in one surge.

A long neigh from a horse rang out from the unbroken Han battle lines, drawing a chorus of neighing from the warhorses. The tense atmosphere before battle stirred many horses to excited restlessness.

Gazing out at the vast, boundless land beyond the frontier, majestic and imposing, with distant ridges stretching endlessly, peaks beyond peaks and ranges within ranges, he felt the northern wind sweep past. Some gusts even spun in eddies, emitting a howling moan like wolves.

Li Guangheng slowly exhaled. His mount was constantly snorting and occasionally pawing at the grass. The warhorses beside him likewise shook their heads from side to side, white vapor puffing from their mouths and coalescing into long dragons of white mist.

He lifted his eyes and looked around. Beside him, warrior after warrior gripped their lances. Rows of iron-tipped helmets gleamed with cold light. Banner after banner of sun, moon, and surging waves fluttered and snapped in the northern wind, stirred to the extreme. The near-noon sun spilled its radiance, and each section of the army formation was like an iron torrent traversing the earth.

Li Guangheng's heart surged with heroic passion, and suddenly Li Bai's verses rose within him: "The harsh wind blows frost, the sea grass withers; sinews are tough, shafts sturdy, the Hu horses proud. Three hundred thousand Han warriors, the general also leads like Huo Piaoyao. Shooting-star white-feathered arrows at the waist, sword-blossoms like autumn lotus flash from the scabbard. Heaven's troops shine on snow, descending on the Jade Pass; Tatar arrows like sand pierce golden armor..."

Was all this not exactly the scene before his eyes?

He was grateful to the Grand General, who had given him the chance to command strong cavalry and gallop across the northern frontier. Slowly, he raised the lance in his hand.

"Draw sabers!"

Officers in the formation bellowed the order.

"Hai!"

A uniform, ringing sound spread through the front ranks, the rear ranks, and both wings. Sheets of bright, cold light flashed as every rider drew their thick-backed saber and pointed it toward the front. The lance cavalry at the very front, with a sharp whoosh, raised their lances in unison, slanting them forward. The red tassels on each man's lance mingled with the bright red manes of their horses, a fiery crimson flying in the wind.

A murderous aura soared to the heavens. Feeling this atmosphere, even the men of Wang Pu's Datong Main Battalion in the rear and the Loyalty and Righteousness and Newly Attached battalions on the wings felt their blood boil. Many were moved to tears.

The Mongol riders of the Newly Attached Battalion likewise felt a shared honor, all proud to follow such a mighty army.

Tabunang's face flushed crimson. He gripped his war hammer tightly, praying that the Buddha would bless him to hack off a few more heads of the Tumed barbarians. Beside him, Galede silently clutched his crescent-moon blade, panting heavily.

In the ranks of the Datong Main Battalion, Wang Pu's trusted commander Wang Zheng felt an urge to weep, a feeling he had never had before. He murmured, "I will surely leave my name in the annals of history."

"Boom!"

A sharp signal cannon roared. Tens of thousands of soldiers all raised their eyes toward the high hill.

A single long blast of the horn was called the Swan Call. Immediately after the signal cannon, a piercing horn blast rang out from the high hill. The tens of thousands of soldiers in formation roared in unison: "Hu!"

A roll of urgent drums, and the great army began to move. A sea of cavalry started advancing.

Soon, another piercing Swan Call sounded. Wang Zheng and the others shouted with all their might, again roaring in unison: "Hu!"

The sound shook the four fields. The drumming grew more urgent. They quickened their pace, watching the armored Feathered Forest cavalry below. They advanced in neat attack formation, like a surging iron torrent moving forward. Wang Dou watched, entranced. A cavalry charge always gave one a feeling of suffocation and seething excitement. It was a pity he would never have the chance to ride out alone ahead of the dust, charging at the very forefront.

He looked at Zhong Diaoyang beside him, seeing him equally entranced, his gaze fixed intently on the moving iron torrent below. Wang Dou smiled faintly and asked, "What is Cousin thinking?"

Zhong Diaoyang hurriedly turned his head. He saluted solemnly and said, "Grand General, your subordinate was thinking that to follow the Grand General is our honor!"

Wang Dou looked at him and nodded gravely. "Having you, having the soldiers of the Pacifying the Frontier Army — that is likewise my honor, Wang Dou's honor!"

"And mine."

Wang Pu, who had been staring entranced below, his brows twitching from time to time, hastily added.

He watched the cavalry formation below the hill, watched them advance rhythmically and in unison to the drumbeats. Especially the Central Army Cavalry Battalion of the Pacifying the Frontier Army. Their Feathered Cavalry, their forward-pointing lances, their gleaming sabers, their fluttering banners — they were like towering tidal waves, their momentum unstoppable.

Wang Pu had never imagined that a cavalry charge of thousands upon thousands of horses could have such imposing power. Compared to the scene before him, the cavalry battles he had seen in the past were like gang street fights. Watching all this, his expression shifted and wavered, changing through dozens of emotions.

Wang Dou laughed heartily. "Indeed! To fight shoulder to shoulder with Regional Commander Wang and display our might on the frontier — that is also my honor!"

Wang Pu said with emotion, "A man knows his own affairs. Without you, Elder Brother, how would this younger brother have today's glory? Everything I have, Elder Brother has given me."

Wang Dou looked at him. Truly, without himself, historically, after the Battle of Songshan, Wang Pu would have been beheaded, and with the infamy of being the first to flee. He had already changed the fates of Wang Pu and many others. Could he change even more?

Watching the Pacifying the Frontier Army's cavalry surge forward like a tide, thousands upon thousands of hooves pounding the dry grassland like rolling thunder, roaring with fury, feeling that suffocating pressure, the Tumed side all turned pale.

Guluge murmured, "In the time of Genghis Khan, our Mongol iron cavalry ranged east, west, south, and north, even campaigning thousands of li west. Many tribes submitted in fear. But why is it that now, our equipment is inferior, and even in cavalry battle, we are far outmatched by the Han army of the Central Plains? No... I refuse to accept this!"

Unwilling to yield, he exerted all his strength to rally the tribal warriors to fight. Hanggao also knew escape would be difficult. If their side routed, without cattle, sheep, or baggage, and pursued by tens of thousands of enemy cavalry, how many could ultimately survive? Perhaps one in ten?

He too strove to inspire the men: "Wang Dou's forces are many, but they have raided from afar, their men and horses weary. We, on the other hand, wait at ease for the exhausted foe. Victory is not out of the question! In the old days, when Genghis Khan attacked the Jin, the Jin army boasted four hundred thousand, while we had only tens of thousands. But through the warriors' desperate valor, we routed the Jin bandits at Yehuling. By the Eternal Blue Sky above, kill all the Han bandits!"

All the Tumed herders let out wolf-like howls of fury. They had no path of retreat. Behind them were their tribes, their families!

"Kill!"

Hanggao personally beat the war drums. Guluge brandished his heavy axe and charged at the very front, leading the way. Twenty thousand Tumed warriors likewise roared, brandishing their weapons, and followed close behind.

"Hu!"

From the high hill came the final piercing Swan Call. The drumming reached a frantic peak. The charging Pacifying the Frontier Army soldiers roared out one last unified battle cry. Their horses' speed likewise reached its limit. Li Guangheng's Left Battalion cavalry had already leveled their lances, layer upon layer of dense lance forest.

Behind them, the Central Army cavalry of the Rear Battalion raised their sabers in unison.

The Feathered Cavalry on both wings likewise flashed rows of saber arrays. Their horses' speed was slightly behind that of the Central Battalion cavalry. Officers constantly bellowed orders: "Advance like a wall," "Keep abreast and aligned." They advanced in tight formation, careful not to surge ahead or fall behind, moving as tightly as a wall of cavalry, row upon row of sabers slanting forward in unison.

Mastering horsemanship was no simple matter. It required years of repeated, unceasing practice, and complete harmony with one's mount, achieving the unity of man and horse, enabling one to fight freely on horseback, even to charge in a formation of ten thousand riders. Only those who reached this level were considered true cavalry; otherwise, they were merely mounted soldiers.

However, this cavalry-wall formation compensated for the riders' shortcomings. They only needed to coordinate seamlessly, arrayed in tight ranks like infantry. Those with poor riding skills could be carried along by those with good skills. Moreover, this formation leveraged collective strength, returning individual valor to group combat. With comrades protecting them on all sides, just like an infantry formation, no one fought alone on the battlefield.

Looking back at the rows of Iron Pagoda warriors behind him, Wen Fangliang thought, "Old Han truly has a skill. Once this cavalry-wall formation is deployed, it deserves to be recorded in the military annals of our Pacifying the Frontier Army!"

Under his command were all First-Class soldiers of the Pacifying the Frontier Army. Their horsemanship might be inferior, their mounts' strength lacking, but their mutual coordination and rapport had already sunk deep into their bones. With the debut of this cavalry-wall formation, their weaknesses were remedied, and each man became like a tiger that had grown wings.

After the third great shout, the two formations had already pressed close. The pounding of hooves stirred up dust that blotted the sky. Several riders surged wildly forward, their hoofbeats like drumming. The sound of ten thousand galloping horses merged together until, between heaven and earth, only the thunder of hooves could be heard. The iron torrents on both sides rushed ceaselessly forward and collided — inevitable!

"Kill all the caitiff bandits!"

Wen Fangliang bellowed, and countless warriors let out the same roar at the same moment. The cavalry torrents finally crashed together...

"Good!"

Wang Pu roared. Though the enemy riders were clearly visible, the Jingbian Army's central cavalry, led by the lance troops, were like a red-hot pincer tip suddenly stabbed into a slab of soft cheese. Amid a chaos of tumbling men and horses, they pierced straight through from the front of the caitiff cavalry formation all the way into their center and out the rear. The feathered cavalry on both wings likewise swept aside all who stood before them.

Wang Dou also set his heart at ease. In that moment, he felt as if his breath had stopped. Confidence was one thing, but the final result still had to be seen with his own eyes. Now the facts had proven everything: even as a weary army fighting in formation, the frenzied Tumed tribe was no match for him.

He exhaled. He thought to himself: before absolute strength, all tactics are futile effort. Moreover, the Mongols on the steppe — their tactics are already greatly outdated. They have been eliminated by history. The martial valor of their ancestors ultimately cannot redeem the fate of their later descendants.

"No!"

Guluge screamed madly. Before him and beside him, his own warriors' weapons and armor flew and danced through the air. The neighing of wounded warhorses merged into one continuous sound. One by one, warriors tumbled to the ground in various postures. In this clash of iron torrents, this contest of steel and flesh, they had lost — lost terribly.

Their own cavalry formation was simply no match for the Jingbian Army. The enemy's dense cavalry wall was too terrifying. In direct collision, they were at a disadvantage. Fighting with desperate valor, they were still at a disadvantage. Wave after wave of the enemy's iron cavalry torrent simply pressed forward, each wave heavier than the last. As far as the eye could see, there was only that dense forest of lances, and behind it, the gleaming array of blades.

Cavalry combat is inherently difficult; the chance to strike comes only in an instant. In that split second, to stab or slash down an opponent while preserving one's own life requires luck, and even more so, practiced combat skill. But no matter how brave a single warrior, he is no match for several opponents of equal quality.

Their uniform weaponry was also terrifying. The Jingbian Army in particular — every man possessed a fine horse lance. This lance could thrust and could slash; the shaft was also highly flexible. With just a thrust and a flick at the right angle, one could smoothly withdraw it, or from a height, raise the lance and thrust downward, likewise preventing the lance from penetrating too deeply and losing the weapon.

Looking back at their own long spears and such — the shafts were too rigid. If not handled well, either the recoil would injure the wielder, or the shaft would snap, forcing them to abandon it. Using sabers and the like — an inch longer, an inch deadlier — how could they be a match for the opponent's horse lances?

Facing wave after wave of the Jingbian Army's cavalry wall, the Tumed tribe's riders, after their initial frenzy, were at a loss.

They could see no hope of victory. It was as if the breakwater they had built with their own flesh and blood had just barely blocked one wave of the enemy when the opponent's second iron torrent came crashing down upon their heads — just as surging, just as despair-inducing. The enemy's horse lances and sabers easily stabbed and slashed them down. The fewer the men around them became, the more hopeless the battle grew.

And on the two wings, although some Mongol riders employing the Crow Troop Scattered Star formation fared less miserably against the Azure Dragon Army and Vermilion Bird Army's feathered cavalry than those in the center, the tribe's warriors were still engulfed by the tide of their blade formations. Moreover, on the wings there were also the Loyalty Battalion and the New Auxiliary Battalion cavalry, adept at exploiting opportunities, surging forward.

"Hateful Han people, why won't you fight our steppe warriors one on one?"

Ahead came another wave of the lance forest. Looking behind them, there seemed to be yet more ranks of cavalry wall warriors — like a tide battering a dike, endless and unbroken.

Guluge howled in despair. The heavy axe in his hand still dripped a mixture of blood and white pulp — he could not be called anything but valiant. Yet this valor still left Guluge feeling hopeless, feeling that everything was meaningless.

Howling like him were many Tumed warriors charging the formation. Then, amid cries of unwillingness, they were swallowed up in an ocean of sabers and long lances.

"Boom!"

Li Guangheng, drenched in blood and gore from head to toe, led his central cavalry battalion and broke through Guluge's great formation in one charge. Before them stood Hang Gao's central army staff and others, who had stopped beating the drums, their faces ashen. Li Guangheng thrust his horse lance forward with all his might. Beside him and behind him, the warriors still advanced wave after wave like a wall...

On the afternoon of the thirteenth day of the ninth month of the fifteenth year of Chongzhen, Marquis of Yongning Wang Dou fought a great battle with the caitiff Tumed tribe by the banks of the Little Yellow River. Dou broke them in one charge. Guluge and Hang Gao's forces were routed. Several thousand heads were taken. The remnants fled in great haste, trampling each other to death in vast numbers. The fallen corpses blanketed the field.

"Feathered cavalry — I must have them!"

The Tatar riders below were defeated in a single battle. Many of them, in despair, laid down their weapons and surrendered, while others scattered and fled in all directions.

Wang Dou ordered the Loyalty Battalion, the New Auxiliary Battalion, the Sharp Scout Battalion, and Wang Pu's Main Battalion cavalry to pursue and kill. A frontier decisive battle destined to be famed in history was over in less than half a shichen. The victory came so swiftly that Wang Pu was left marveling in astonishment.

As for the ferocity of Wang Dou's central cavalry, although Wang Pu coveted it, he knew how difficult they were to train and did not dwell on it. However, the feathered cavalry — who could fight dismounted and kill mounted — ah, he called them dragoon cavalry — Wang Pu felt that with some effort, he could still train them himself.

Gazing at Wang Dou's figure, Wang Pu thought this silently to himself.

Wang Dou was merely gazing down below, lost in thought. After a long while, he smiled at Wang Pu and said, "Brother Wang, let us go down!"

Wang Dou led his Guard Battalion into the battlefield. The moment his command banner appeared, it drew a tidal wave of cheers. The thunderous cry of "Ten thousand victories!" rose without end.

Wang Dou rode his horse forward. Coming toward him were face after face, sincere and stirred with emotion. The wind whipped the banner corners against the weary yet resolute faces beside him. The gruesome battlefield was still vivid before their eyes, yet every officer and soldier bore an indescribable look of joy.

As Wang Dou passed, more and more soldiers gathered around him, a dense mass stretching beyond sight. They formed ranks of their own accord, surrounding Wang Dou at the center. Whenever Wang Dou's figure appeared, they all fixed their fervent gazes upon him. Wen Fangliang, Gao Shiyin, Li Guangheng, Han Chao, and the others also came over, each joyfully following behind.

At last, a joyful voice cried out, "Grand General, we have won."

That one sentence stirred up a thousand waves. "We have won — one battle to settle the northern frontier!" The voices rose unceasingly, like surging waves and tides.

"Wahahaha!"

Gao Shiyin, his face smeared black and white, suddenly lifted Han Chao beside him and spun him in a circle, shouting, "Old Han, I, Old Gao, must thank you greatly."

The surrounding officers and soldiers laughed heartily. Han Chao could only shake his head and pat Gao Shiyin on the shoulder, saying, "Good brother."

Wang Dou smiled as he watched all this. He shouted loudly, "Yes, we have won. Henceforth, the lands south of the desert shall return to our Han people's possession."

Another sea-like wave of cheers erupted. Han Chao bellowed, "Salute the Grand General!"

"Mighty and formidable!"

Amid a frenzy of shouts, looking at his officers and soldiers under his command, and recalling all the trials of the expedition beyond the frontier, Wang Dou suddenly raised his hand: "Han Army — mighty and formidable!"

"Grand General — mighty and formidable!"

The army song rose, and at last the impassioned singing merged into an ocean.

"Don our iron armor, shoulder our long blades. We march to war with you — the road stretches long."

"Share the same foe's rage, together live or die. We march to war with you — our hearts never flag."

"Trample Mount Yanran, drive out the Hu brats. We march to war with you — singing without fear!"

It was the Eastern Han army song "Trampling Yanran on Horseback," also one of the Jingbian Army's own army songs. Sung at this moment, it was perfectly suited to the occasion.

Watching all this jubilation, Wang Pu split his wide mouth in a grin. His personal general, Wang Zheng, likewise sang at the top of his lungs, his face flushed red with excitement.

〖∷Fast Updates∷∷Plain Text∷〗