Chapter 144

The clamor of slaughter on the battlefield suddenly seemed to be choked off, followed by a moment of eerie silence; even the Yellow Turban army's shouts halted for a beat, and everyone instinctively looked toward the direction the gunfire came from.

The next second, this silence was utterly torn apart by an even more surging chaos and panic! "Behind! It's the people behind who are firing!" an allied soldier clutched his bleeding shoulder, turned in terror, and just saw the Matsuura clan's soldiers raising their matchlocks, gun muzzles still wisping with thin smoke, bullets firing toward their own side.

"The Matsuura clan has rebelled! They are traitors!" This hoarse shout was like a spark, instantly igniting the fear in the allied soldiers' hearts.

The line, already shaken to the brink of collapse by the Yellow Turban charge, now suffered a stab in the back from "their own people," and the soldiers' mental defenses completely crumbled.

Someone threw down their Weapon, turned and ran backward, shouting, "Run! Hurry up and run! If we don't run now, we'll all die here!"

The number of fleeing people grew, and the once-neat formation instantly turned into a loose sand.

Some soldiers were knocked down by comrades in the chaos and, before they could get up, were trampled by the crowd surging from behind; others were cut down by a single slash from the pursuing Yellow Turban army, blood spattering onto the fleeing, adding to their despair.

The loyalist alliance's line, under the double blow of betrayal and panic, collapsed like a dam breached by flood, instantly disintegrating, leaving only scattered fleeing figures and a mess all over the ground.

They were already at their limit from the Yellow Turbans' frenzied assault, and the deadly blow from allies behind utterly destroyed their last shred of fighting spirit.

The loyalist alliance's soldiers were caught in the middle, with no way forward or back; ahead, the fearless Yellow Turban soldiers resembled demons crawling out of hell, wrapped in yellowed headscarves, eyes mad.

They stepped over their comrades' corpses to charge forward, even if their chests were pierced by spears, they still tried to bite a piece of flesh from the enemy; when the rust‑stained blades and axes fell, one could even hear the crisp crack of breaking bones, that reckless ferocity making onlookers' scalps tingle, and no one dared to meet them head‑on.

Behind them, the well‑equipped Kyushu soldiers were like reapers harvesting lives. They wore shining armor, their matchlocks constantly belching fire, bullets precisely piercing the allied soldiers' backs; the fallen allies didn't even have time to utter a wail.

Their steps were orderly, their eyes icy, without a hint of hesitation, as if those they were cutting down were not former allies but lambs awaiting slaughter.

With demons blocking the front and butchers pursuing from the rear, the allied soldiers' very breaths were filled with despair.

Some tried to rush forward but were cleaved by the Yellow Turbans' blades and axes; others tried to retreat and were struck by the Kyushu soldiers' iron cannons. Between heaven and earth, it seemed only the cries of battle, the wails of agony, and the creeping chill of death closing in remained.

Some daimyō still tried to organize troops to resist, but their orders could not get through the immense chaos. The soldiers fled like headless flies, wishing their parents had given them two fewer legs.

And Songpu Longxin's Kyushu army, under the officers' command, formed neat ranks and advanced step by step.

"First rank, fire!"

"Second rank, step forward! Fire!"

"Third rank, step forward! Fire!"

The standard three‑stage volley tactic was executed by them to perfection.

Ahead of them were the heavily armored infantry tasked with reaping. These soldiers wielded the Wang Family's specially made horse‑cutting sabers, mercilessly hacking at the scattered, disorganized allied troops.

The Tokugawa lord, a youthful‑looking young man whose eyes bore a steadiness beyond his years, fled in disarray under the desperate protection of his personal guards.

He watched as his loyal retainers nearby were knocked down by matchlocks, cleaved in two by horse‑cutting sabers, his heart feeling as if sliced by a knife.

"My lord! Run! Run to the coast! We still have ships!" an old retainer shouted at him, his voice hoarse from exhaustion.

The Tokugawa lord gritted his teeth, a flash of humiliation and unwillingness crossing his eyes.

He could not understand why this had happened.

They had come to loyalist the emperor, to support the state; why did they end up like this?

Was Songpu Longxin mad? What on earth was he doing this for?

"The coast! Yes, to the coast!"

In the Tokugawa lord's mind, a glimmer of hope flashed. If he could escape back to his own domain, he still had a chance to make a comeback!

He was not the only one harboring that thought.

Thousands of allied remnants, together with their panicked lords, desperately fled toward the eastern Seto Inland Sea, which to them seemed the sole road to survival.

However, when they were drenched in blood, having endured countless hardships, finally shaken off the pursuers behind them and reached the coast, the sight before them plunged them into utter despair.

All they saw was a vast fleet suddenly appearing on the previously calm sea.

Dozens of black warships, as massive as mountains, lined up to form an impenetrable wall, completely blockading the entire coastline.

Each ship's prow flew a flag they had never seen before, yet it filled them with utter dread—a black field with a gold border, embroidered in the center with a huge seal‑script character "Wang".

Wang Family!

It was the Wang Family's fleet!

The Tokugawa lord stared blankly at that fleet, only feeling his limbs turn cold, and he finally understood.

These so‑called daimyō, whether they answered the loyalist call or were dragged into the Yellow Turban army, were merely pieces on this board that could be sacrificed at any moment.

"It's over…… completely over……"

One daimyō threw away his katana, knelt on the sand, and burst into silent tears.

In reply, a thunderous roar came from the giant ship.

"Boom!"

A shell, trailing a sharp whistling sound, fell from the sky and landed not far from them.

The massive explosion kicked up sand waves several meters high; an unfortunate warrior close by was torn to shreds by the blast.

This was a warning.

A warning to these trapped turtles not to engage in any futile resistance.

The Tokugawa lord gazed at the dark, yawning muzzle of the giant ship's cannon and slowly closed his eyes.

He knew his warrior's life had ended.

……

At the other end of the battlefield.

In the Yellow Turban camp, it was equally chaotic.

They also saw the mutiny in the rear of the loyalist alliance; at first they thought it was their "Yellow Heaven God" manifesting, causing the enemy to slaughter each other.

The soldiers sent up a earth‑shaking cheer.

However, when they saw that the Matsuura army, after defeating the alliance, did not halt but turned its guns and began advancing toward them, they realized something was wrong.

"National Master! National Master! What's going on? Why… why are the Matsuura people also firing on us?"

Wang Tianhai, once a wandering warrior and now the Yellow Turban army's grand marshal, seized the nearby "Grand Virtuous Master" Chen Gongbo, muttering that there must be some follow‑up plan he didn't know about.

Chen Gongbo's face was also written with panic and bewilderment.

"Impossible... this is impossible... the Songpu Family is under the Wang Family! They're our own people!" he muttered to himself.

He couldn't understand why his doctrine "The azure heavens have died, the yellow heavens shall rise," which Wang Meng had personally taught him, was being struck down by the Wang Family.

"Our own people?!" Wang Tianhai shoved him to the ground, pointed at the black formation in the distance swiftly harvesting Yellow Turban lives, and roared, "What part of them looks like our own?!"

He looked at the well‑equipped, rigorously disciplined Jiuzhou army, then at his own ragtag troops brandishing a mishmash of weapons, and a terrifying thought surfaced in his mind.

Could this not be the city lord's test? Could he merely be a pawn used to wear down the strength of those traditional great families, disposable at any moment?

Then why is it not the Songpu Family that is sacrificed? The two who understood everything held no grudge against the Wang Family; having received the Wang Family's many benefits, they already knew their fate, yet they hadn't expected to return so quickly.

In their own hearts they always saw themselves as the Wang Family's most loyal dogs, but when a dog is to be abandoned, shouldn't the master handle it personally? Why use another dog to bite them to death?

As he neared death, Wang Tianhai felt a calm inside; perhaps the Wang Family acted for reasons unknown to him.

He recalled that in the Wang Clan Academy in Zhendong City, General Wang Meng patted his shoulder and said, "Wang Tianhai, you are an ambitious man. I give you a chance, a chance to become a man above others. It depends on whether you can seize it."

He seized it.

Though the time was short, the Yellow Turban Grand Marshal's reputation will forever accompany him; the Wang Family gave this low‑born ronin warrior a chance to lift his head and become a man!

He drew the katana at his waist and charged toward the Songpu army's formation.

A marshal has a marshal's way to die; he would not let capture ruin the reputation he built over these years.

He will die, but he will die on the charge.

"Pfft!"

Awaiting him was a row of cold bayonets.

Several bayoneted muskets easily pierced his crude armor.

Wang Tianhai lowered his head, looked at the several blood holes blooming on his chest, and his face bore a faint smile that had earned him fame in life.

His corpse was quickly stepped into the mud by the soldiers surging from behind.

Songpu Longxin rode his horse, watching all this coldly.

He watched those great families who had once been his equals, even those he had to look up to, being dragged out like dogs from hiding by his soldiers and then beheaded.

He knew that from today onward, he was the sole king of this nation besides the Wang Family.

But he also knew that his reign as king would not be stable.

Today, he could slaughter others.

Tomorrow, others might be able to slaughter him in the same way.

So he must curry favor with the Wang Family!