Chapter 498: Fire Lance

"Reporting to the Beile for his knowledge: to the north there are four cannon positions, hidden by door planks so they can't be seen, but on the south side there are only three cannons. The north hasn't engaged yet, so it absolutely won't exceed three. This slave believes there is only one."

Beneath the Qing deputy commander's recognition banner, Holben had already returned. Du Lei and he together reported to Dudu.

Right Wing Commander Dudu did not indicate approval or disapproval. The Qing army conducted its assault with extreme patience. Because they had seized a very large population this time, they could afford to absorb heavy losses among the bondservants. In the original history, the Plain Red Banner seized seventy thousand people, ranking first among the Eight Banners. Although they suffered a setback at Tongcheng Post, the population seized still numbered sixty thousand. These people could perform the physical labor in the assault and also exhaust the Anqing Battalion's firepower.

Up to now, the dead and wounded were almost all old and new bondservants. True Yi casualties were very few. Dudu still had considerable room for choice. If the difficulty truly proved too great, he could withdraw from the attack at any time, and the other banners would bear no grudge against him. Now the two men from the Plain Red Banner had come precisely to strike with full force, to break through this manor in one surge of momentum.

Du Lei spoke expectantly, "Beile, give the order. All four banners attack fiercely from three sides at once, tying up his manpower. The Plain Red Banner elite guard breaks through from the north, then strikes behind the Southern Barbarians on the east side — and this manor is broken."

Dudu hesitated. At present, the two sides were fighting at a distance, and casualties in each banner were not great. Once close combat began, deaths and injuries would immediately surge.

"Beile, we've already fought our way right up to them. There are only a thousand Southern Barbarians inside, and they have several hundred suits of armor. If we seize those, the Beile's self-managed company can also produce many more White Armor."

Dudu's expression stirred slightly. Du Lei's meaning was that the Plain Red Banner could allocate a larger share to him. Status within the Eight Banners was tied to strength, and a very large part of that strength came from the quantity of armor.

The Eight Banners system was established for warfare. Apart from what the various ranks of military aristocrats enjoyed, all other resources were concentrated in the military domain. Yet even so, because the Eight Banners system was primitive and backward, production efficiency was extremely low, and fine iron armor was still not easy to obtain. One could tell at a glance that these Southern Troops' bright armor was superbly crafted. If he could obtain over a hundred suits, the strength of Dudu's three self-managed company would increase enormously. The only thing to consider was the cost in casualties.

Beside him, Ye Chen carefully studied Dudu's expression. He had always felt an inexplicable wariness toward this force of Southern Troops. Back at Tongcheng Post, he had urged Yoto to annihilate the Anqing Battalion, only Yoto had not agreed.

Now, seeing signs that Dudu was tempted, Ye Chen also spoke. "Beile, we still have several hundred li to go before we exit the border. If we let this bunch of Southern Barbarians go, next time they will cut off the road passage at Biankou. By then, regret will come too late."

Dudu's brow twitched. Ahead, the second wave of shield carts was gradually advancing at the front. The Ming Army's artillery fired from time to time. Locust-like arrows danced between the two sides, and harrowing shouts and screams rang out without end.

Du Lei and Holben turned a deaf ear, their faces full of anticipation as they looked at the Right Wing deputy commander before them.

Dudu narrowed his eyes. The second wave of shield carts ahead was beginning its advance. The firearm soldiers on both sides were firing. White smoke spread across the battle line, drifting slowly over and shrouding the tall commander's banner.

……

Crack! A sharp report rang out as Wu Dacai's shoulder slammed painfully. Another thick cloud of gunpowder smoke belched into the air. In front of the Lumi musket's muzzle, everywhere lay toppled shield carts and fleeing figures, all manner of shouts and harrowing screams mingled together.

Wu Dacai jerked his head aside. In the smoke-hazed field of view, a figure thirty paces away collapsed. A surge of excitement rose in Wu Dacai's heart. This was his first time hitting a target. The fire lance suddenly seemed less loathsome; the roar at the moment of firing was even somewhat pleasing to the ear.

Only the fire rope had been blown away again. Wu Dacai changed guns frequently and did not wrap the fire rope around his hand; the fire rope had been blasted several paces away.

Wu Dacai's neck still ached somewhat. After rubbing it, he set the Lumi musket by the wall. The firearm soldier on the ground was still reloading. Narrowing his eyes, he observed the front. Nearby, another thatched roof had been ignited. With the Qing army so close, the civilian laborers dared not expose themselves, and beating at the high flames was not easy. Thick smoke billowed from the thatched roof. The line of sight around the defense line grew increasingly blurred. Beside him, the twang of bowstrings firing arrows continued without pause. All the heavy infantry had donned their face armor, and half were already standing up.

Thirty paces beyond the chest rampart, the ground was covered with dead and wounded. Most of the figures opposite were bondservants, clearing obstacles under the threat of the Armored Soldiers. Every time the cannons fired, a swath of them fell, and those around scattered and fled in all directions — only to be cut down immediately. Then new people were driven out to take their place.

The ground was carpeted with dead and wounded bondservants, once again blocking the shield carts' advance. New bondservants dragged away the dead blocking the way. The wounded bondservants were also lifted and tossed aside, piled into heaps of corpses beside them, becoming part of those shield cart defense lines. Those not yet dead writhed and wailed in the mounds of bodies.

One mentally shattered bondservant propped himself up at the edge of a corpse pile and knelt on the ground, weeping and wailing. Arrows danced around him, yet he made not the slightest move to dodge. Because his position was too far forward, the Armored Soldiers overseeing the battle behind found it inconvenient to come forward and cut him down, so they let him wail at the front.

That bondservant's face was completely red, veins bulging on his forehead, his muscles contorted and his features ferocious. Both hands clawed violently at his face, already gouging it into a bloody, mangled mess. Blood streamed continuously down his cheeks. The bondservant howled at the shrillest pitch; his voice was already hoarse, yet he still wept and wailed.

As the distance closed, Wu Dacai's mental tension gradually mounted. The nearest shield cart ahead had already reached the section of wooden stakes. These stakes could not stop men, but they could block the shield carts. If the Qing army wanted to push the shield carts right up against the chest rampart, they had to clear these stakes first.

In this group, three men held up shields. Behind them, a crowd of bondservants used hoes to smash the wooden stakes. The shallowly buried stakes were quickly cleared away in one area. The shield cart behind them advanced deep into the stake zone, now less than twenty paces from the chest rampart.

Wu Dacai urged once, and the firearm soldier finally finished loading a self-igniting arquebus. Just as Wu Dacai took it in hand, the cannon crew beside him finally fired again. In the thunderous roar of the cannon, a round of canister shot blasted out. Fragments flew everywhere at the edge of the stake zone. Sixty seven-mace canister balls tore the shields apart. Misty sprays of blood erupted from several bondservants. They collapsed to the ground, rolling and twisting madly, bone-chilling screams issuing from their mouths. The bondservants behind them turned and fled, heedless of everything.

Gripping the self-igniting arquebus, Wu Dacai immediately began to aim. In his field of view, several figures looked like Armored Soldiers. They were cutting down the bondservants fleeing back, constantly obscured by those bondservants, making it impossible to aim at them.

He shifted the muzzle toward the bondservant wailing on the ground. That bondservant was still ceaselessly clawing at his own face with both hands. Blood streamed along his fingers, giving off wreaths of hot vapor. Wu Dacai froze for a moment, then finally aimed the muzzle at that bondservant.

Amid the chaotic screams and harrowing shrieks, Wu Dacai suddenly heard several cannon reports. They seemed to come from the Qing army's rear formation.

Wu Dacai released the trigger hook and raised his telescope to observe the surrounding Qing army lines. The field of view was somewhat blurred, but he still saw several banners responding in succession.

In some positions, most of the wooden stakes had already been cleared. Some bondservant corpses lay only a few paces from the chest rampart. Ahead, between the shield carts, rows of Armored Soldiers flashed past. The arrows raining down from above had also grown much sparser.

From Zhuang Chaozheng's position came a signal cannon shot. The officers all around bellowed orders. All the heavy infantry rose to their feet in quick succession, laying their swords and spears atop the chest rampart. Clearly, Zhuang Chaozheng had also detected the Qing army's unusual movement.

The guard ran over to retrieve the fire rope. After handing it to the firearm soldier, he rested his own line spear on the chest rampart, positioning himself even closer to Wu Dacai than before.

The firearm soldier below, while attaching the fire rope, asked, "My lord, why aren't you firing? This lowly one has loaded another one."

"Keep loading. Lean the loaded ones against the wall." Wu Dacai opened the priming pan of the self-igniting arquebus in his hand. After pausing a moment, he lowered his head and said to the firearm soldier, "In a moment, you just focus on loading bullets. The faster, the better."

The firearm soldier raised his head to glance at Wu Dacai, then, not daring to ask further, lowered his head again and resumed loading bullets.

Suddenly, three resounding signal cannons boomed in succession from the opposite side. Across the entire Qing line, drums thundered like rolling thunder. From between the shield carts ahead surged a tide of Armored Soldiers — both Bright Armor and Dark Armor — a jumble of every kind of weapon. The front rank of Armored Soldiers held up shields. The dense mass of men charged straight at the chest rampart.

On the Anqing line, the heavy infantry and dismounted cavalry stood ready in strict formation. Every manner of long weapon was braced atop the chest rampart, prepared for battle.

Three small cannons boomed from the surrounding area, but the cannon crew in this section did not fire. The Qing army had already charged within ten paces. After half a day of patient assault, the Qing army had finally closed in on the Anqing Battalion's line with only light casualties.

Wu Dacai leaned on his crutch, breathing steadily. His field of vision directly ahead was completely filled by the surging Qing troops. The Qing soldier directly facing him wore a blue iron-inlaid cotton armor and held a long spear, charging straight at Wu Dacai.

The two sides engaged shouted fiercely. Dense volleys of throwing axes and throwing swords crisscrossed in the air.

A throwing sword whistled past his ear with a whoosh. Wu Dacai could even feel the faint wind brush by. The spearhead of the Qing soldier ahead came straight at his face. Wu Dacai yanked the trigger hook. The striking hammer gave a sharp clang. Wu Dacai braced for the white smoke to billow and the stock to slam back.

Yet that instant of waiting stretched so unbearably long. No white smoke appeared. Wu Dacai now had some experience; he knew this self-igniting arquebus had failed to fire again. He flung the arquebus aside and ducked down.

The spearhead stabbed over viciously, scraping past his helmet with a ringing clang. A tremendous force slammed against the top of his head. Wu Dacai felt a wave of dizziness.

Wu Dacai nearly toppled over. After finally steadying himself with great effort, he dared not expose his head above the chest rampart. In his ears, all he heard were furious roars all around him. Wu Dacai's head swam with vertigo, but he still had not released his crutch, and his body did not fall. Half-crouching behind the chest rampart, he forced himself to look up. All he saw were the figures of the Anqing heavy infantry.

Long spears and line spears stabbed fiercely across the chest rampart. Dense beads of blood danced on both sides of the rampart. The guard let out a shrill cry, his line spear thrusting wildly at the opposite side. Suddenly, a long spear stabbed diagonally across from above Wu Dacai's head, striking the guard squarely in the neck. The spearhead was yanked back swiftly, and a jet of blood shot from the wound.

The firearm soldier on the ground cried out in alarm. Wu Dacai jolted awake. He grabbed another self-igniting arquebus leaning against the wall, pushed himself up forcefully on his crutch, raised the gun, and exposed his head above the chest rampart.

The opposite side of the chest rampart was a dense mass of Qing soldiers. On the left was a shield, braced against the line spears of the Anqing heavy infantry. The Qing soldier directly in front was full of ferocity. He had just killed the guard and was turning his long spear toward the right. He had not expected someone to suddenly appear from below the chest rampart, holding an arquebus aimed right at him. It was already too late to dodge. Wu Dacai leveled the gun at that Qing soldier, let out a shriek from his mouth, and yanked the trigger hook. A tremendous force slammed into his shoulder. White smoke enveloped his vision. The jetting flame nearly blasted into the Qing soldier's terrified face.

At the tip of the flame, a seven-mace lead bullet, propelled by violently expanding gas, passed through the Qing soldier's skin without the slightest hindrance. The muscle of his cheek was compressed inward. An entire row of teeth was knocked from the gums under the ferocious impact. The lead bullet gradually deformed, yet still irresistibly tore through the now-distorted muscle. The soft lead bullet struck the skull, flattening into a thin disc, then shattered into fragments along with the Qing soldier's skull. The immense kinetic energy continued to rip the deformed muscle and skin backward, bursting them outward. At the edge of that white smoke, shattered skull, brain matter, blood, and torn flesh sprayed in every direction.