Chapter 490: Shield Wall

The Anqing Heavy Armor Soldiers halted fifty paces from the village entrance to re-form their ranks. Qing arrows flew in from afar, falling around the heavy armor troops and occasionally striking the formation with scattered clangs. The heavy armor soldiers went about their business, utterly indifferent to those arrows, which had almost no effect on their movements.

Due to combat and attrition from wounds and illness, the Anqing Battalion had four and a half companies of heavy infantry remaining, all of which were committed to the action. The heavy armor soldiers of the two companies in the second and third positions descended onto the roads on either side. Under the officers' shouted orders, the three companies deployed in a single line, preparing to assault the entire village entrance position. The remaining one and a half companies stood by in reserve behind the main road.

The heavy armor soldiers had marched four li from the riverbank and used the time spent re-forming ranks to take a brief rest, recovering their strength for the fight. Clusters of civilian laborers pushed the cannons off the main road, shouting work chants as they strained to bring the cannon carts closer to the village.

Wu Dacai, leaning on his crutch, stepped down from the official road. Behind him were over fifty cart frames hauling the supplies the heavy infantry needed and the artillery's ammunition. But judging from the surroundings of the village entrance, Wu Dacai felt they didn't need to bring food at all — just slaughtering the livestock nearby would be more than enough to eat. Ammunition, on the other hand, was what they should have brought more of.

Apart from the cavalry artillery, all the other cannons were behind the infantry. The civilian laborers' task was to transport them into position as quickly as possible.

Wu Dacai limped along through the camp area. Ahead of him, civilian laborers were pushing several cannons. Wu Dacai's face was flushed red, and his feet moved faster and faster, as if he had forgotten he was a cripple. His guards followed nervously at his side, afraid their superior officer might fall, too preoccupied to even glance at the occasional Qing arrows falling around them.

Two more cannon blasts rang out from the village entrance. Wu Dacai looked up just in time to see an earthen wall at the entrance collapse. Several Qing soldiers leaped out from behind the wall and fled toward the village interior, but Qing archers still held many other positions at the entrance. Shields shifted at the corners — clearly, the Qing defense was already fully formed.

A burst of shouting came from up ahead. The cannon carts had reached the last field ridge. This ridge was the highest, and the left-side cannon cart's wheel couldn't climb it. Several artillerymen and civilian laborers together tried to lift the cannon. They watched the wheel slowly rise off the ground, but it still couldn't crest the top of the ridge and looked about to fall back down.

Wu Dacai limped over at a rush. Without a second thought, he braced his crippled leg against the back of the wheel. Blue veins bulged on his face, his complexion swelling crimson as he let out a loud howl, straining with his one good leg. The surrounding laborers shouted along with hoarse voices, and the guards hurriedly pressed against the back of the wheel as well. The cannon cart's wheel creaked several times and finally, slowly, climbed onto the ridge.

"Hold it! Hold it!" Wu Dacai stretched out his right hand to drag on the wheel, preventing the cannon cart from tipping over the ridge. This ridge was not low; if the wheel were damaged, this cannon would be temporarily useless.

With a unified shout, the group half-lifted, half-dragged the bronze cannon across. Wu Dacai let out a breath of relief.

Scattered arrows fell from the sky, embedding in the dirt with muffled thuds. Wu Dacai, drenched in sweat, paid them no mind. His spirit was inexplicably exhilarated, and he completely forgot that he was supposed to be leading the cart frames behind him, intent only on continuing to push the cannons forward.

But once past the ridge, the gunners and laborers pushed with lightning speed. Wu Dacai, hobbling on his crutch, couldn't keep up. He ran until his breath came in ragged gasps and had no choice but to stop and pant.

Around him, livestock bolted past from time to time. Every cannon blast sent these animals into a panic, and they ran wildly through the camp.

Most of the common folk who had been plundered and seized in the camp had already scattered and fled, many escaping across the open wilderness toward the Yongding River. Household retainers from some unknown camp heads rode back and forth across the wilderness, hacking down those fleeing. Some retainers already had two or three human heads hanging from their saddles.

Wu Dacai finished catching his breath, withdrew his gaze, and ran toward the bronze cannon position ahead. By now, several bronze cannons on the left had already reached the flank of the left-side heavy armor soldier company. The civilian laborers lay collapsed on the ground, gasping for air, while the gunners loaded ammunition.

"Move the cannonballs, move the cannonballs." Wu Dacai waved his crutch, shouting at the civilian laborer captains. The captains, after collapsing for a moment, had no choice but to struggle to their feet and urge the laborers sprawled across the ground to rise. The group turned around and ran back toward the main road.

One by one, the bronze cannons moved into position on both flanks of the heavy armor soldiers. Two successive cannon blasts rang out, and two-and-a-half-jin iron shots hurtled toward the village entrance and the mud-brick walls on either side.

Under the impact of the two-and-a-half-jin iron shots, the mud walls burst open with two breaches. Clods of earth and clouds of dust shot into the air as the surrounding Qing soldiers screamed in alarm and scrambled for cover.

Wu Dacai finally stopped to catch his breath. On the main road, a small squad of Heavy Armor Mobile Troops was clearing the wreckage of cart frames from the road. Zhuang Chaozheng's recognition banner still stood on the main road, and beneath it, the square flags were signaling in rapid succession. The Company Commander flags of each company answered one after another — the attack was clearly imminent.

The artillery fired at maximum speed, alternating between solid shot and canister shot. The Qing archers opposite quickly fell back. Behind them, an endless stream of civilian laborers arrived, bringing up follow-up ammunition.

But Zhuang Chaozheng did not give the artillery much time to fire. A burst of crisp, close-packed step drums sounded beneath the Battalion Commander Recognition Flag. Officers at every level of the heavy armor troops bellowed orders simultaneously. All the heavy armor soldiers faced forward. The soldiers carrying shields squared them up. Soldiers wielding single-handed weapons drew their arms. Soldiers using long-hafted heavy weapons lifted them and shifted to a two-handed grip.

The rhythm of the step drums changed, becoming slow and steady. The heavy armor soldiers of the three companies let out a single loud war cry and advanced together.

Wu Dacai's breathing quickened again. He stared fixedly at the silver backs of those heavy armor soldiers.

Several hundred Anqing soldiers, each clad in dozens of jin of armor, slowly pushed forward. Their formation was dense, and as they moved, their armor plates collided, producing a continuous metallic clashing.

The late morning sunlight slanted down upon the land of the southern bank, illuminating the silver ranks at the village entrance. Amid the ceaselessly flashing, dazzling light, Wu Dacai spotted a conspicuous, towering figure in the front row.

……

A vibration traveled through the long shield. Xu Lengzi, holding it up, peeked out. Two light arrows were embedded in the cowhide on the outer face of the shield. Xu Lengzi extended his right hand, hooked the lower edge of his single-handed axe under them, and the light arrows fell to the ground. Xu Lengzi stepped right over them.

The Iron Armor Soldiers maintained their battle line as they advanced. Most of the shield-bearers in the front row used round shields. Although the long shield offered better coverage, many soldiers disliked using it because it was heavier. An ordinary soldier needed both hands to hold it and thus couldn't wield a weapon, but Xu Lengzi could hold a long shield single-handedly for extended periods.

The front rank of heavy armor soldiers, formed by their shields, slowly pushed toward the village entrance. Incoming arrows struck the shields with muffled thuds, but they could not stop the advance at all.

On the flanks and behind the heavy armor soldiers, archers traded shots with the Qing troops, harassing those firing arrows. Arrows still flew continuously from behind the mud-brick walls on either side of the village entrance, and Qing shields appeared behind the entrance.

Those Qing soldiers warily observed the Ming Army's cannons. Only when the cannon's field of fire was blocked by the advancing Anqing Heavy Armor Soldiers did the Qing troops begin to move into the middle of the road and form ranks.

They first deployed in a two-row formation, sealing the village entrance road tightly. Then, more Qing soldiers arrived and thickened the ranks more and more.

A few White Armor Soldiers in the Qing ranks were still firing arrows. But even an armor-piercing bodkin arrow at close range found it extremely difficult to truly breach fine armor; it required not only a skilled archer but also a bit of luck. And the Anqing soldiers were holding shields aloft. With the shields' protection, the striking effect of both sides' archery was greatly reduced.

The Anqing Heavy Infantry advanced steadily, tramping to the drumbeats. Countless armor plates and iron rings clashed against one another, producing a continuous, rushing, rustling sound, like a current of flowing metal.

Officers at every level shouted incessantly to control the formation. Most of the heavy infantry's front row was screened by shields. Within the ranks, long and short weapons intermingled — single-handed axes, waist sabers, line spears, blade staffs, trident rakes, and hook spears mixed together. In the rear rows, a small portion carried long spears and trident rakes, but the vast majority wielded various types of line spears.

When facing iron armor, an ordinary long spear's spearhead of merely one or two liang in weight had limited killing power; they often failed to pierce armor and might even snap. The line spear, though shorter than the long spear, had a heavy spearhead with ferocious lethality. Its iron ferrule protected the shaft, and its length and weight made it easier to thrust with force, making it more suitable for fighting enemy heavy armor soldiers.

Shielded, the respective formations gradually closed in and soon entered a distance of ten paces. The Anqing soldiers slowed their pace, cautiously approaching the enemy, preparing to enter engagement range.

The front-row soldiers peered over the tops of their shields, their breathing ragged as they observed the opposing side. Officers on both sides shouted loudly, warning their soldiers not to break from the battle line.

No one on the line spoke. Everyone moved carefully, ensuring they did not break formation. Otherwise, their flanks would lose the shields' protection and they would be easily struck down by the opponent.

The cannons on both flanks still roared, but everyone in the front row of the battle line acted as if deaf, fully concentrated on the enemy just a few paces away. Now only three or four paces remained; even the fierce glares between the opposing shields were clearly visible.

The heavy armor soldiers' flag leaders were bellowing orders. Xu Lengzi stepped forward once along with both his flanks. A spearhead flashed opposite, and the long shield shuddered violently. Xu Lengzi habitually turned his body sideways, reducing the area facing the enemy, and braced the shield dead with his shoulder. Without needing the officers' shouts, the two formations began to clash fiercely.

The village entrance filled with shrill howls. Line spears stabbed viciously within the ranks; long-handled axes and wolf tooth clubs smashed up and down. Qing weapons likewise struck the long shield, and vibrations transmitted endlessly into Xu Lengzi's shoulder.

The shields of both sides pressed together, ramming each other. The dense crowd packed the street. The Anqing Heavy Infantry and the Qing soldiers jammed against one another, all manner of weapons stabbing and swinging. Under the sunlight, countless fine droplets of blood sprayed in all directions. Miserable screams merged into a single din. Whenever one man fell, another filled his place from behind. Corpses and wounded piled up on the ground. Neither side had a path of retreat; they fought with all their might to maintain the integrity of their formation, struggling to the death for control of the village entrance.

Xu Lengzi's long shield was damaged in many places, though the wooden planks were still largely intact. Amid the cacophony of sharp curses and miserable shrieks, he repeatedly rammed the shield against the enemy. The impacts had almost no effect, but Xu Lengzi paid no mind to whether it was useful. After each ram, he hacked over with the single-handed axe in his hand, not even caring what he struck, then repeated the next ram.

His single-handed axe was drenched in blood. The Anqing Heavy Armor Soldiers around him howled madly. On his right, a line spear stabbed relentlessly past the long shield, and agonized wails rose continuously from the opposite side. On his left, a long-handled axe hacked repeatedly at the foe until it was stabbed by an opposing line spear. The Anqing axeman's chest armor was breached, and he instantly sprayed blood as he fell.

One round shield remained opposite Xu Lengzi. He rammed forward hard again, shoving the opposing round shield aside. Xu Lengzi hacked over with his axe, and a sharp crack rang out, followed by a scream from the other side. Xu Lengzi continued pressing forward, hugging his long shield, when he suddenly felt the resistance opposite give way.

Xu Lengzi stepped back half a pace, then slammed forward with all his might. A gap split open in the enemy formation, and Xu Lengzi crashed directly into the Qing ranks. The moment he stopped, a tremendous clang rang out against his helmet. Xu Lengzi was instantly dizzy and disoriented. A warm stream of blood flowed inside his face armor, ran down past his nose, crossed his cheek, and dripped out from beneath the face armor like a string of beads.

Xu Lengzi's body swayed. A sharp pain erupted in his shoulder — he couldn't even tell what weapon had struck him. Immediately after, a great force shoved from ahead, trying to push him backward.

Xu Lengzi let out a sudden howl, dug his feet in to hold his position, then fiercely swung his axe and cut down a Tartar who had exposed his flank. A second Anqing Heavy Armor Soldier immediately filled the spot behind him. The two men held that gap with their lives. Xu Lengzi launched relentless attacks at a Qing White Armor Soldier on the left.

That White Armor Soldier hastily fended off Xu Lengzi's flanking attacks, only to be struck on the helmet by a large club from the front. He instantly crumpled to the ground. Amid the spray of blood, a third Anqing Heavy Infantry soldier entered the gap. The breach in the Qing ranks grew wider and wider, and their formation was now visibly bending.

Drenched in blood, Xu Lengzi pushed one step deeper. He could see that the Qing formation had only one final layer left. Just like in training — once you pierced through the enemy formation, victory was yours.

Amid the terrified shouts of the Qing soldiers, Xu Lengzi, his face armor covered in bloodstains, stepped back another half pace. He held his breath, braced the battered long shield, and charged violently at the last Qing soldier.