Chapter 896: Forcible Breach of the City

The light of the deep-autumn sun seemed unusually pale, and the rustling autumn wind howled without cease, as if cheering on the assault and defense of Miyun City. Under the striking power of the Han army's long-range weapons, flying stones, arrows, and fire bombs fell in an unbroken curtain, continuously wounding the city walls, spreading from without to within, leaving devastation everywhere.

Within half an hour, the Han army hurled 1,500 fire-oil bombs, 2,500 stone projectiles, 500 iron bolts, and 150,000 bow and crossbow arrows at Miyun City. Such a pattern of attack was nothing short of a disaster for the Liao troops defending the city; their already low morale was stripped of several more tenths, sinking even lower.

At the start of the Han army's assault, the Liao generals still ordered counter-fire with bows and arrows, but they were soon completely suppressed. Most of the defenders on the wall could only take cover behind the parapets, hoping that the sturdy walls would shelter them.

Facing such a lavish style of warfare, the unprepared Liao army truly could find no effective countermeasure. Xiao Siwen ordered men to prepare large quantities of wooden boards and shields for defense, but these could block arrows, yet not the impact of stone projectiles, not the piercing power of the heavy bed crossbows, and certainly not the burning fuel of the bursting fire-oil bombs.

Thus, in a short time, the defense atop the walls became shattered and fragmented; soldiers fled in panic, and officers could not restrain them. In fact, the purpose of the Han army's tactics, besides destroying defensive installations, was not so much to kill a set number of enemies as to hammer their morale and shake their fighting spirit.

Under such indiscriminate striking, there were inevitably unlucky wretches — devoured by fire oil, crushed by stone projectiles, pierced by iron bolts. The shock of such gruesome deaths was enough to destroy the defenders' confidence and collapse their already shaky convictions. What mattered more was that the Han army could take what it wanted, while they could not even mount a token counterattack.

Outside the south wall, Zhang Qiong, Commander of the Husheng Army, had long since drawn his war blade, staring at the city wall, his bell-like eyes gleaming with a ferocious light. The carnage atop the wall could be imagined; he glanced back from time to time, hoping to see the order for the main force to strike.

Last year, on the campaign to Chuanshu, taking cities and seizing strongholds, Zhang Qiong had always led from the front, earning the merit of being first atop the walls three times. Upon returning to court, he was transferred into the Husheng Army as a Commander. For a battle-hardened killer like Zhang Qiong, commanding troops was not his strength; only slaughter was the thing by which he displayed his martial prowess and realized his worth.

Behind him stood 2,500 soldiers of the Husheng Army — the assault troops selected by Murong Yanzhao. Even when forming ranks, Zhang Qiong chose to stand at the very front; thus, though his temperament was crude and brutal, on the battlefield his men were willing to follow him into the charge, through mountains of blades and seas of fire, without fear of life or death.

Behind the Husheng Army, the thunderclap catapults had already been cycled through one rotation; though these machines were formidable, they also wore heavily. The soldiers and conscripted laborers operating them had been changed out twice already — all of the Han army's siege engines required vast manpower to operate. This time, merely those responsible for the thunderclap catapults numbered a dedicated 3,000 men.

Of course, compared to the Han army's early trebuchets, this saved much manpower and effort; back then, to launch a single stone with a trebuchet required dozens or even a hundred trained men pulling in coordination. As a counterweight trebuchet, the thunderclap catapult's advantage was plain at a glance.

Fire-oil bombs and stone projectiles were still being launched, their tearing through the air having a piercing effect. On the walls of Miyun, no Liao figures could be seen anymore — the Liao army had voluntarily withdrawn into the city's inner chambers to avoid further pointless casualties.

About two li away lay the main force's position, where a command platform some ten zhang high had been erected, its great banner fluttering in the wind. Murong Yanzhao ascended it to oversee and direct the battle.

The battlefield situation could be surveyed in full; the distance was somewhat great, and conditions atop the wall were not entirely clear, but one could still perceive their state. Beside him, several accompanying officers also watched the battle; not to mention the Liao army, even these Han generals were dumbstruck by such an offensive. They had anticipated and imagined the Han army's upgraded siege tactics, yet had not expected that, fully displayed, they would prove so formidable and powerful.

Sun Li murmured: "If it were us, facing such striking, how could we defend?"

In truth, there is no siege method that cannot be countered; it was merely that the Liao army lacked preparation, leaving them flustered and helpless. And though in this half hour the Han army's attack had a momentum vast enough to change the color of heaven and earth, its actual effect was but thunder with little rain. In the end, to take the city, one still relied on the assault troops' achievements; no matter how sharp the machines, victory still depended on men.

And if the Liao army could grow accustomed to such a display, muster their courage, and respond calmly, then the Han army would merely be wasting its machines. Of course, that demanded too high a quality from the defending generals and troops.

"Commander-in-Chief, facing this thunderous striking, the Liao army is already terrified and helpless. I believe we can attack now!" Beside Murong Yanzhao, Lu Huaizhong, Army Supervisor of the Infantry, suggested to him.

At this, Murong Yanzhao's gentle, scholarly face remained composed; he merely ordered calmly: "Pass the order for Zhang Qiong and Murong Yanqing to attack! Swap in a fresh batch of archers and crossbowmen, ascend the earthen ramparts, fire at will, and cover the wall battle!"

"Yes!"

With the order given, the attack changed; the Han army, long poised and ready, immediately advanced toward Miyun City. Of course, it was not a matter of shouldering bamboo ladders and wooden ladders and swarming up in a chaotic rush...

The Han army's advance was also highly methodical: five heavy cloud ladders on each flank were pushed toward the walls, each propelled by 250 laborers, their shouts in unison, leaving dense footprints and several deep wheel ruts.

Following behind them, the Han soldiers, led by their officers, some bearing shields, some carrying boards, some sheltered beneath wooden canopies, maintained their formation and advanced steadily.

Inside Miyun's barbican, the Liao army was a scene of miserable bustle; the air was thick with the stench of blood and scorching, buildings above and below the walls were burning, some men fought fires, some hauled corpses, and there was the unceasing sound of anguished wailing.

To boost morale, Xiao Siwen had come personally to the south wall; now he too sheltered within the city chambers, his face tightly drawn, no longer bearing his usual composed demeanor, his slightly trembling hands revealing his inner tension.

"I had long heard that the Han army's attacks were powerful and unstoppable, but I never expected their machines to be so refined, so sharp as this!" Xiao Siwen's tone even carried a note of lament.

"Commissioner of Military Affairs, though the Han army's machines are refined, they are far from sufficient to breach the city with them alone. After this, their soldiers will surely come to attack the walls; we must prepare to meet them in wall combat." Beside him, a middle-aged military officer said to Xiao Siwen with a grave tone: "Now the troops are all afraid, morale is unsteady. The Commissioner must not show fear; you must steady the army's heart and prepare to meet the enemy!"

This middle-aged military officer was Han Kuangmei, a core member of the Han clan of Liao, and in official history the paternal uncle of the famous Liao power minister Han Derang. Though it was already late autumn, sweat poured ceaselessly from his brow — whether from the heat of the fire or from sheer nervous tension, one could not say.

Hearing his words, Xiao Siwen steadied himself somewhat, looked at Han Kuangmei, and immediately said: "The General's words are reasonable! I leave the matter of repelling the enemy to you, General. I will remain behind, organize men, and support you with all my strength!"

In fact, Miyun's defense owed much to Han Kuangmei's efforts, and since the Liao troops defending the city included many Han soldiers, Xiao Siwen was willing to entrust him with authority.

The two had just finished speaking when from atop the wall came the defenders' nearly shrill warning cry: "The Han army is attacking!"

His expression changed at once; Han Kuangmei, without a moment's thought, strode out of the city chambers, driving a group of men, weapons in hand, up onto the wall tower that had already been baked somewhat hot. Upon reaching the tower, he had no time to look at the severely damaged surroundings — he saw only those war beasts, accompanied by a vast host of Han soldiers, slowly drawing near, and could even clearly make out the murderous faces of some Han troops.

The Han army's bows and crossbows were still firing, but because the wall battle was imminent, the suppression they exerted on the wall top had weakened somewhat. Seizing this opportunity, Han Kuangmei hastily arranged defensive personnel and mustered crossbowmen to shoot back outward. But this counter-fire could still only be described as feeble.

Because of the earlier earthwork preparations, the distance between the Han army and Miyun's walls had been greatly compressed; in no more than a quarter of an hour, the ten cloud ladders successfully leaned against the wall top. The crossbowmen atop the towers methodically fired in volleys, striking the Liao troops on the wall at close range; even with some protection, each volley still inflicted considerable casualties.

From the middle of the towers, two boarding planks were dropped, slamming heavily onto the wall's edge with a dull thud; several defenders in front had their heads smashed outright. The Han soldiers hidden within the cloud ladders immediately rushed up the planks, charging swiftly toward the wall top — their fierce bearing and savage faces like starving wolves pouncing on sheep, like hounds charging at prey.

At this, Han Kuangmei's expression was extraordinarily grim. The Han army's assault was too oppressive; it gave them hardly any time to react. He could only strain to direct the defense, on one side using bows and crossbows against the enemy, on the other using long spears to fend off the Han soldiers leaping from the cloud ladders onto the wall.

Fierce slaughter erupted. Though under the Liao defense it was somewhat difficult for the Han army to force their way onto the wall, they lost only a hundred or so soldiers before successfully gaining the wall top and closing into melee. When a siege battle reached this point, the sturdy city defenses the Liao relied upon had almost entirely lost their utility; with the vanguard warriors pinning the enemy down, successive Han soldiers streamed up in endless reinforcement.

On the outer wall of Miyun, rows of thick crossbow bolts were densely driven in — these were called step-stake arrows, three to a row, fired by bed crossbows, half their length buried in the wall. While the fighting raged atop the wall, nimble Han soldiers below trod upon these arrow shafts, climbing up like apes to join the battle.

Zhang Qiong truly displayed his consistent style of combat, personally ascending the wall, clad in heavy armor, a shield in his left hand and a four-foot great blade in his right, leading his men in slaughter on the front line. The Liao troops below the wall were no match for him even for a single exchange; every swing of his blade brought certain harm.

The Han soldiers who had scaled the wall, following their daily training, fought in squads of five, coordinating tightly and advancing step by step; if any fell, those behind took their place. Each squad was like a sharpened rafter, stabbing the defenders into shreds.

In such fierce close combat, what was tested was the training and valor of both sides. The Liao troops of Tanzhou had a certain fighting capability, but their coordination was not as tight as the Han army's; struck from front and rear, and with the enemy climbing the walls so easily, their morale plummeted to the depths — how could they be a match for the wolf-like, tiger-fierce Han army?

The slaughter atop the wall lasted nearly half an hour; corpses piled like mountains, blood flowed like rivers. Han Kuangmei could be said to have given his utmost loyalty to Liao, personally directing his men to resist; amid the flying arrows, he took a stray bolt and did not retreat. Below the wall, Xiao Siwen roused the Liao officers and men, organizing men to stream up the wall to fight — only thus did they hold out for half an hour.

Yet with the situation at this point, victory and defeat were already decided; the efforts of Xiao and Han, before the tide-like assault of the Han army, ultimately could not hold. Zhang Qiong was the sharpest arrowhead of the Han army and had long since noted Han Kuangmei's importance to the Liao defenders.

Amid the slaughter, he kept closing in on Han Kuangmei, intent on cutting down this wretch. Han Kuangmei was cunning too, knowing this fierce Han general was not to be trifled with; he kept shrinking backward and sent men to intercept.

But with one hand needing to direct the battle and the other to guard his own safety, and with the space atop the wall being only so large, there came a time when he could retreat no further, and a moment of carelessness.

Zhang Qiong, drenched in blood, after hacking down or wounding 23 Liao soldiers in succession, finally lunged before Han Kuangmei, bellowed once, and swung his blade two-handed at his neck. Han Kuangmei's personal guards, to protect him, struck at Zhang Qiong's body.

Zhang Qiong paid them no heed; in his bloodthirsty eyes, there seemed to be only Han Kuangmei. Facing such a death-defying bearing, Han Kuangmei was naturally seized with terror; instinctively he raised his sword to block — with a "clang," it was knocked clean away, and his head and body instinctively twisted aside, Zhang Qiong's blade landing on his shoulder.

Han Kuangmei wore a precious armor of no small defensive power; even so, under Zhang Qiong's full-strength chop, it was split open, and with a scream from him, blood gushed forth.

Having landed his blow, Zhang Qiong strained, enduring the attacks of Han Kuangmei's guards, and swung his blade again, wanting to finish Han Kuangmei off; but his guards, loyal after all, blocked desperately, and only thus did Han Kuangmei escape with his life.

After that soul-shaking blow, the severely wounded Han Kuangmei dared not hold the line atop the wall any longer; under his guards' protection, he withdrew into the city. Seeing this, Zhang Qiong flew into a rage; not wanting to lose the merit of taking the city and slaying the general, he hurriedly led his men in even more desperate pursuit, the wounds on his body seeming no more than an itch.

And once Han Kuangmei withdrew, the Liao defense atop the wall collapsed utterly; the offensive-defensive situation was completely settled. The Han army broke into the city, opened the gates, and successive soldiers poured in with roaring shouts.

With the city defenses lost, the defenders' morale shattered completely. Xiao Siwen, receiving Han Kuangsi, hastily formed a new line within the barbican, wanting to resist stubbornly — and again it was Zhang Qiong who led the assault and broke it. The Liao army retreated in successive defeats, soldiers scattering in rout; the Han army pressed the advantage and completely took Tanzhou.

The city's defenders had originally numbered 40,000, yet from the moment the Han army arrived beneath the walls, fewer than 7,000 had truly been thrown into battle; the rest collapsed without even fighting.

The Miyun siege battle ended in a complete victory for the Han army. Though the actual assault had taken only half a day, the preparatory work beforehand had taken nearly half a month.

With this battle, the Han army showed the world the overwhelming, matchless offensive power of the Great Han's forces. At the same time, using Miyun's fate as a warning to the Liao army: if you wish to defend a city, the Great Han welcomes it.