Chapter 166: with translation of chapter title

Three months later, the capital of Champa, Indrapura.

Outside the harbor of this prosperous city at the Mekong River's mouth, hundreds of unseen black giant ships loomed, blotting out the sky and sealing off the entire sea.

Those ships were enormous, flying on their masts a yellow flag bearing a dragon pattern that they did not recognize.

Countless soldiers clad in black armor, wielding long blades and iron tubes that spewed flame, streamed ashore from those great ships via extendable wooden planks.

Their ranks were orderly, their movements swift, and they exuded a suffocating killing intent.

The king of Champa, Indrapatmoha IV, stood on the city wall, gazing at the dark mass of enemy troops outside, his legs trembling like a sieve.

He cried out in despair, "God! Who… who on earth are these people?!"

The envoy he sent to negotiate couldn't even reach the enemy camp before being shot through the throat with an arrow, his corpse tossed back.

The enemy sent back only one message: "Surrender and open the gates within an hour, and you will be spared; otherwise, when the city falls, not a chicken or dog will be left alive."

Surrender?

Indrapatmoha IV certainly wanted to surrender.

But he dared not.

If he opened the gates, could he still keep the city's wealth, the palace's beauties, even his own throne?

He shouted at his generals with a fierce exterior but inner fear, "Hold! Defend to the death! We have sturdy walls! We have fifty thousand troops! They have come far and must be exhausted! As long as we hold out for ten days or half a month, they will withdraw on their own!"

His generals, each ashen-faced, glanced at one another, none daring to speak.

Fifty thousand troops?

That sounds like a lot.

But they themselves knew well what sort of rabble those fifty thousand troops were.

Most were peasants hastily conscripted, having barely handled weapons for a few days.

In everyday life, they could bully civilians, but that was about it.

To have them fight the well-disciplined, well-armed foreigners outside?

Isn't that just sending them to their deaths?

In the camp of the Later Zhou army.

Guo Rong, clad in golden commander's armor, stood on a makeshift platform, using his "thousand-li scope" to observe the defenses of Indrapura.

"Your Highness, the Champa people inside the city don't seem inclined to surrender," said Deputy Commander Zhang Yongde beside him.

"As expected." Guo Rong lowered the scope, his face showing no surprise, "Just a bunch of fools sitting on a gold mine who don't know whether to live or die."

"Pass on my orders!" Guo Rong's voice rang across the camp, "Artillery corps, prepare to assault the city!"

"Yes!"

At his command, dozens of new-style cannons supplied by the Wang Family were pushed to the front of the formation.

These cannons were far superior to those cast by the Later Zhou themselves.

Their barrels were longer, bores larger, and range greater.

The artillerymen skillfully adjusted the angles, loading gunpowder and shells.

These artillerymen were from the "Military Merit Accounting Office" that Wang Hao had left in the army; they not only kept accounts but were also versed in geometry and physics.

Under their precise calculations, the landing point of each shell was mapped out clearly.

"Fire!"

At the commander's order.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

Black shells, trailing long smoke, screamed as they slammed into the walls of Indrapura.

Indrapatmoha IV's proud "solid walls" proved no match for these shells.

With a tremendous roar, bricks and stones flew, and huge gaps were blasted open in the wall.

The Champa soldiers on the wall had never seen such a spectacle.

Terrified by the earth-shaking scene, their souls scattered, they cried for father and mother and wanted to flee down the city.

"No retreat! Anyone who dares to retreat will be killed without mercy!" a Champa officer shouted, brandishing his saber in an attempt to stem the rout.

But before his words finished, a shell exploded not far from him.

The massive blast wave hurled him and a dozen nearby soldiers into the air, where they fell like torn sacks, silent.

After only three rounds of bombardment.

The southern wall of Indrapura was already riddled with holes, on the verge of collapse.

"Infantry, prepare to charge!" Guo Rong calmly issued his second order.

"Kill! For merit! For silver!"

A squad leader named Wang Ermazi was the first to raise his shield and charge out of the ranks.

He had been nothing more than a poor farmer who could not afford food, and so had become a soldier.

Before the Military Merit Ledger system was implemented, his daily thoughts were only about how to slack off and get by.

Now, however, his mind was filled only with thoughts of how to kill the enemy and earn merit.

On his ledger, he had already accumulated over thirty points.

If he earned another sixty-odd points, he could be promoted to du tou!

Du tou! A position he had never dared to dream of before!

Today is the moment he fulfills his dream!

"Brothers! Follow me! The first to scale the city tower gets a reward of a hundred taels of silver and a hundred merit points!"

Wang Ermazi bellowed, and the soldiers behind him joined in wild shouts, charging forward like madmen.

The Champa soldiers on the wall had long had their courage shattered by the artillery fire.

Looking at the Later Zhou soldiers surging forward like a tide, they could not organize any effective resistance.

They merely symbolically threw down a few stones and fired a few rounds of weak arrows.

These attacks, to the well-equipped, high-spirited Later Zhou soldiers, were no different from tickling.

Wang Ermazi took the lead, holding a large shield, and quickly reached the base of the city wall.

He planted his shield into the ground, drew a short-handled axe from his back, and with all his strength chopped at the exposed bricks and stones on the city wall.

He wanted to open a climbable road for the brothers behind him.

Pfft!

A cold arrow shot down from the city wall, striking his left shoulder squarely.

Wang Ermazi let out a muffled groan, his body swaying.

But he did not fall.

He gritted his teeth, snapped the arrow shaft, and then continued swinging his axe.

Damn it! You want me to die? Not that easy!

His eyes turned red from blood congestion.

He thought of his wife back home, waiting for him to return and build a house.

He recalled Assistant Officer Wang's words: if he accumulated enough five hundred military merits, he could be granted a large house with a courtyard beside Kaifeng City!

He cannot die!

He must return alive!

Kill!

Thinking of the wonderful future life, he threw away his axe, grabbed the broken bricks and stones with both hands, and began climbing upward.

Behind him, countless soldiers followed his steps, crawling up the ruined city wall like ants.

War Era Name Transition the most bloody melee stage.

Wang Ermazi was the first to climb onto the city wall.

He had just steadied himself when three Champa soldiers raised their spears and thrust at him.

He let out a loud shout, not retreating but advancing, and slammed into them with his body.

He used the wound on his shoulder to gain the opportunity to get close to his opponent.

The long blade in his hand swung like the wind.

Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!

Three heads flew into the sky.

Satisfying!

Wang Ermazi laughed loudly, feeling the blood on his body about to burn.

He wiped the blood from his face, looked at the frightened Champa soldiers, charged straight into the crowd, and raised his butcher's knife again.