Chapter 129: Massacre

I've had too much to drink — one update today, and I'll make it up with three or more tomorrow.

By the time Su Xianting climbed the mountain, the Green Standard soldiers ahead had already turned the summit into a hell on earth. Corpses lay everywhere, the dead and the dying tangled together, and the air was thick with a nauseating stench of blood.

The Green Standard soldiers killed everyone they saw, sparing neither the old and weak nor women and children — anything that still drew breath fell as a wronged soul beneath their blades. Driven by the soldiers' butchering swords, the camp folk fled in all directions like headless flies.

The Green Standard soldiers lit torches and set fires all over the mountain. Soon the rear mountain became a sea of flame, with soldiers everywhere holding torches as they burned and killed.

These Han men slaughtered their own countrymen with a savage frenzy, without a trace of hesitation or mercy. Once the flames rose, bugle calls immediately sounded from the Qing camp below the mountain.

At first a few camp elders and camp managers kept shouting, trying to organize an escape for the people on the rear mountain, but as the Qing soldiers pressed forward, the camp folk were cut into several scattered groups, unable to reach one another or learn how many Qing troops had come up the mountain.

There were too many people and too much chaos. When the camp elders and managers saw there was truly no salvaging the situation, they could only look after themselves and flee for their lives.

Once they ran, the camp folk fell into even greater confusion.

The wails of men, the shrieks of women, the pleas of those kneeling and kowtowing for mercy, the cries of infants — all these sounds wove together, and the rear mountain of Yutai Temple, a pure land of the Buddha, became a living purgatory.

Perhaps long accustomed to slaughtering their Han countrymen, the Green Standard soldiers hacked down those unarmed compatriots without pause or hesitation, as if what fell beneath their blades were mere pigs and sheep.

Yet compared to the Green Standard's cruelty, the Han Banners soldiers were even more ruthless — not ruthless in skill at killing, but ruthless in the killing itself.

There was no expression whatsoever in their eyes, no look at all upon their faces; there was only coldness, even loathing.

Amid the Qing army's great massacre, several dozen security-team members who had arrived first broke out from the chaotic crowd. They did not turn and flee toward the front temple; instead, gripping their sharpened wooden spears, they charged straight at the Qing soldiers.

Though every one of them was afraid, they had no choice and did not flinch, for their wives and children were all on this mountain.

When the fleeing crowd saw these security-team members with wooden spears, they rushed toward them by the hundreds in an instant, like drowning people clutching at a single straw.

"Don't be afraid! Don't be afraid! Follow us and kill the Tartars!"

Overwhelmed by fear, the security-team members bellowed at the top of their lungs. Those roars masked the terror in their hearts, and at the same time made some people unconsciously stop running.

They snatched up anything from the ground that could serve as a weapon and turned back with them to charge the Qing soldiers.

Seeing a band of men burst from the fleeing crowd and attack, Su Xianting let out a savage grin and shouted to the banner soldiers who were loading their powder: "Fire! Shoot them down! Shoot them down!"

At the order, the banner soldiers swiftly raised their matchlocks, aimed at the security-team members, and touched off their weapons.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The security-team members, who had no idea the Qing troops had firearms, charged straight at the Qing soldiers. The dense crack of gunfire burst suddenly in their ears, and the choking smell of powder filled the mountaintop.

The rattling shots could be heard for miles, startling the birds on Guifeng Mountain into the sky. At close range, matchlock fire against security-team members with no heavy armor was a one-sided slaughter; their flesh and blood could not possibly withstand the musket balls.

The gunfire rang on and on. One security-team member after another fell to the ground, their bodies riddled with countless tiny holes, each hole seeping bright red blood.

Those hit rolled on the ground, wailing in agony, yet could not die at once. They could only watch helplessly as the Qing soldiers trampled over their bodies in pursuit of the old, the weak, the women and children.

As time passed, every last one of these shot security-team members would bleed to death, without exception.

The security team could not withstand the Qing assault, and that struck even greater terror into the old, weak, women and children. The courage that had risen at the security team's appearance was frightened clean away.

In the darkness, men, women, the old, and children scattered in every direction — some running toward Yutai Temple ahead, some running to places they themselves did not know. At that moment, the only thought in every mind was to run, to get as far away as possible.

Everywhere there were fleeing crowds, and everywhere there were bleeding corpses.

The commotion on the rear mountain was already great enough. According to the original plan, the Qing troops below should have seized the moment to attack Yutai Temple.

All Su Xianting had to do now was lead these two hundred Qing soldiers in throwing the situation on the mountain into as much chaos as possible, so that with a pincer attack from front and rear, the Taiping Army on the mountain would utterly collapse.

After leading his men in slaughtering another hundred or so commoners like driving sheep, Su Xianting spotted a faint line of men with swords and spears charging toward them up ahead. He made an instant decision and personally led the banner soldiers to meet them.

Seeing their company captain lead the charge, the Green Standard soldiers came to their senses as well. They stopped hacking down defenseless commoners at random and followed the banner soldiers in charging that band of Taiping Army men bearing swords and spears.

"Kill the rebels! Kill the rebels!"

The Qing soldiers howled as they rushed at the oncoming Taiping Army, expecting these rebel troops to shatter in an instant like the ones before.

But before they could close in, they heard someone in the opposing ranks shout wildly, and then several dark objects came hurtling toward them. Before they could make out what the dark objects were, explosions louder than matchlock fire erupted in their ears.

With the deafening blasts, countless iron nails shot through the air. The dozen or so banner soldiers at the very front were blown to the ground before they could react, and dozens of the soldiers behind were struck by the flying nails.

"What is that?!"

The shock lasted only an instant. Though the firecracker-like weapons the Taiping Army hurled startled Su Xianting greatly, he was not frightened into a panicked retreat. Instead, he raised his arm and roared, charging recklessly at the Taiping Army.

"Kill them all! Kill them all!"

Su Xianting bellowed as he charged. The instant he closed with the enemy, he felt two long spears stab into him, but they glanced off the iron armor on his body without harming him in the slightest.

While the two Taiping soldiers who had stabbed him stood stunned, Su Xianting's blade was already slashing toward them. With screams, the two Taiping soldiers fell at once.

In close combat, protected by his iron armor, Su Xianting moved as if through empty air — wherever his blade flashed, no one could withstand it for even a moment.

And after those first few explosions, the rebel soldiers did not throw any more of those black firecrackers, which let Su Xianting breathe easier. He could see now that these rebels he was fighting were not particularly fierce; they were, one might even say, a complete rabble.

Without those terrifyingly powerful firecrackers, in close quarters these men were no match at all for the soldiers of the Great Qing.