Chapter 441: Contact

Half the team moved over after Du Dewei took out the roving sentry at the northwest corner. The other half were still waiting at the north city wall.

While waiting for the second roving sentry, Du Dewei and his three men shed their wet uniforms from before, dried themselves off, changed into full camouflage, and slung their assault rifles across their backs.

Once everything was ready, the second roving sentry still hadn't come up.

He checked his watch and saw it was already 9:30 p. m. Du Dewei couldn't help feeling a bit agitated: a large force was still waiting behind Jingzhong Mountain to launch the attack — waiting like this wasn't going to solve anything, was it?

Just as he was about to force a push and send men in to take out all three sentries in one strike, the remaining roving sentry finally moved.

In the howling night wind, suspended in the air roughly twenty meters diagonally above the eastern wall of Santunying Fortress, the hovering drone's lens picked up a figure radiating an infrared signature.

After nearly ten minutes of patient waiting, the roving sentry, ambling along the whole way, finally stepped through the door of the northeast corner tower.

The moment the roving sentry entered, the remaining team members hidden on the north wall began moving that way. At the same time, the report of the roving sentry's elimination came through Du Dewei's earpiece.

Once the two split squads were each in position, Du Dewei followed the same method, ordering two groups of four to use the wall as cover and head down to the two corner towers below to deal with the sentries.

In a fortress with a perimeter of seven li, as long as no one launched the signal firework rockets from the corner towers or beat gongs and blew ox-horn bugles on the spot, the muffled sound of silenced gunfire would never reach the men in the General Headquarters at the city center.

So while the two dutiful sentries were still peering toward the night sky in the direction of Zunhua, the attackers pulled open the door and shot them through the back.

After securing the southwest and southeast corner towers, the wall section of Santunying Fortress was now completely under the Special Operations Team's control.

At this point, Du Dewei let out a long breath and began issuing a rapid string of orders: eight team members would serve as lookouts at the four corners; another twenty would descend from the wall and begin infiltrating toward the General Headquarters, ready at any moment to launch an assault or respond to emergencies.

The remaining team members began applying grease to the winches and ropes on the gate tower — to lower the drawbridge and open the city gates.

The Nanmen, facing directly toward Jingzhong Mountain, was the most convenient gate for leading the troops into the city. Just as the team members were lowering the drawbridge, two hundred Guard Battalion soldiers carrying rifles had already emerged soundlessly from the Jingzhong Mountain Pass.

After crossing the short mountain path, by the time the Guard Battalion soldiers reached the moat, the drawbridge above had already descended without a sound, the gate's crossbar had been removed, and in the pitch-black gateway, several torches were tracing fiery circles, guiding the soldiers into the city.

Under the command of a tall Ensign with a purplish-red birthmark covering half his face, the rigorously trained soldiers began shifting formation, changing from four columns to two, then stepping lightly across Liu Bridge.

Just then, a burst of crackling gunfire erupted from within the city.

Mu Zhang'a stretched and let out a long yawn, then gave an alcoholic belch. Feeling the urge to urinate rising, he decided to relieve himself on the spot.

Just as he was undoing his belt, several men nearby who were still sober began cursing at him: "Mu Zhang'a, you wild roe deer, get the hell away and piss somewhere else."

Flying over along with the curses was a pig bone that Niru Erzhen Su Hetai hurled at him.

"Hah, you bunch of bastards, you've only lived in a few big houses and already you think you're Ming People?"

Already half-drunk, Mu Zhang'a took the bone to the forehead, pulled up his belt, and staggered off cursing and grumbling, leaving the Scout Field in front of the General Headquarters. He passed through the crooked, long-since-opened main gate of the government compound, stood on the steps at the entrance, pulled open his trousers, and began to piss.

"The Ming domain sure is comfortable!" Half-dazed and half-awake, Mu Zhang'a hung his head, his body swaying left and right as he contentedly relieved himself.

In this recent period, as the Bordered White Banner's rear-guard troops left to garrison Santun Camp, two Niru of Tartar Soldiers had been living the life of immortals. Santun Camp was the General Headquarters garrison, normally responsible for supplying provisions in several directions, so its reserves were very ample.

Even though the army marching beyond the pass had taken a great deal with them, these two Niru of over five hundred Tartar Soldiers had been feasting on delicacies, roasting meat, and partying every day, so lost in pleasure they forgot about home.

"Sooner or later I'll seize the rich fields of the Han lands and raise bondservants." Mu Zhang'a, a renowned Warrior in his Niru, though tough in front of others, deep down still longed to leave that harsh land of White Mountains and Black Waters and come to the fertile Han territory to become a Landlord.

Having finished urinating, Mu Zhang'a swayed as he turned around, intending to go back. After taking two steps into the compound, Mu Zhang'a suddenly stopped, stepped backward again, and stared with his mouth wide open toward his right.

Ancient cities all had a central Cross Street leading straight to the four gates. The Santunying Fortress General Headquarters sat right at the city center, so from Mu Zhang'a's position, he only needed to turn his head to see the distant Nanmen.

Under the bright moonlight, in the Nanmen tunnel over one li away, several torches were tracing constant circles, extremely conspicuous in the dark night.

Though he couldn't see very clearly, Mu Zhang'a still realized one thing through the contrast between the pitch-black gate tunnel and the moonlight outside: the Nanmen was already open.

"Ah—!" With a wild roar, every hair on Mu Zhang'a's body stood on end, and he was instantly sober. But just as he was about to charge into the government building, a short burst came out of the darkness — all three bullets hit their mark, and Mu Zhang'a collapsed on the spot in front of the General Headquarters entrance.

Mu Zhang'a's death was not without meaning: his shout and the gunfire immediately alerted the Tartar Soldiers partying on the Scout Field.

At the same time, far away at the Nanmen Tower, Du Dewei's earpiece crackled with an urgent report: "Report! Contact with the enemy — contact!"

Hearing the gunfire and the alert, Du Dewei swung his arm and charged down from the wall with the special operations team members beside him: "Assault! Assault! Reinforcements will arrive shortly!"

He had no time to ask for details and could only issue emergency orders according to the contingency plan.

At the same time, he grabbed the walkie-talkie and shouted: "Plan compromised — switch to assault!"

The Guard Battalion soldiers passing through the gate tunnel right beneath him suddenly heard a sharp whistle blast, followed by a bellowed command: "All units, advance at a run!"

Du Dewei then switched to another walkie-talkie channel: "Old Qian, we've engaged — surround the city, now!"

A curt reply came from the other end: "Understood."

Immediately after, the rumbling thunder of hoofbeats sounded from the direction of Jingzhong Mountain Pass.

While Du Dewei was carrying out this series of voice-directed operations, a round of attack and defense had already played out at the entrance of the General Headquarters: a dozen or so Tartar Soldiers who had heard the gunfire charged to the main gate, waist knives in hand.

What greeted them were bullets.

Su Hetai, the Niru Erzhen, knife in hand and bringing up the very rear of the crowd, had just stepped over the high threshold at the entrance when he glimpsed several streaks of muzzle flash shooting over from the opposite side of the street through the gaps between the men.

Before Su Hetai could grasp what was happening, the Tartar Soldiers in front of him began to be mowed down layer by layer, flesh and severed limbs flying, corpses piling up in a heap at the gateway.

Su Hetai, lucky not to be struck by the bullets, threw himself into a roll and tumbled back behind the threshold. In just a few short seconds, this Niru Erzhen who commanded three hundred Warriors was now disheveled and drenched in blood.

Scrambling and crawling, he shouted at the others coming to reinforce him head-on: "Armor! Put on armor! It's fire lance troops!"

The two or three hundred Tartar Soldiers gathered on the Scout Field let out a collective cry at these words, turned around as one, and bolted toward the rear compound — the armor, weapons, and horses were all in those exquisite residences at the back. After entering the city, the Tartar Soldiers had turned the General Headquarters into their stables.

The enormous clamor outside had long since alerted the other portion of Tartar Soldiers in the rear compound. So when both groups began donning armor and preparing for battle, the rear compound instantly descended into utter Chaos.

The two Niru of Tartar Soldiers garrisoned at Santun Camp theoretically numbered six hundred men. Having suffered some losses after entering the pass, they now had only five hundred and fifty.

These two Niru of troops were basically organized on a one-third system: one-third elite Manchu Bordered White Banner, one-third Mongol Eight Banners, and one-third Bondservants.

These Han Bondservants were Banner members who had "submitted" in the early years, so their "loyalty" was relatively high. Though these men were normally responsible for menial labor, feeding horses, and cooking, once they took to the field, they were also regular Cavalry capable of charging and killing.

But in a situation like today, there was no need for the Bondservants to charge: the enemy had already fought their way to the government compound entrance without anyone noticing. At a moment of close-quarters combat like this, where life and death would be decided the instant they met, the Bondservants naturally could not be relied upon — it was up to the Manchu and Mongol Eight Banners Great Lords.

After sending a group of Bondservants to shut the central gate and brace the doors with wooden bars, successfully buying time, the elite of the two Niru hurriedly began donning armor and readying their horses. For a time, the rear compound was filled with Human Shouts and Horse Neighs; Manchu, Mongolian, and, in moments of desperation, shouted Chinese interwove and drifted above the rear compound — the scene was utter chaos.

A quarter of an hour later, with the Bondservants' assistance, the Manchu and Mongol Great Lords had finally put on their three layers of armor, the horses had been fitted with felt barding, and they began to form ranks.

Immediately after, the central gate was reopened. Manchu cavalry on the left, Mongol cavalry on the right, the two columns of cavalry, thick with Killing Intent, raised their torches and sabers and charged out of the rear compound like streams of fire.

The two cavalry columns rounded the Grand Secretary's hall and the front hall, and by the time they charged onto the Scout Field littered with bonfires, their precise horsemanship had just brought the Horses to maximum speed.

The next moment: "Fire!"

The Guard Battalion Warriors, long since arrayed in formation inside the main gate, delivered a precise three-rank volley.

As smoke belched from the Gun Barrels, the Tartar cavalry charging at the front were sent tumbling, men and horses collapsing one after another. The cavalry behind them, however, clenched their jaws and pressed flat against their mounts, continuing their headlong charge — though they could not fathom how these strange riflemen were knocking cavalry wearing three layers of armor off their horses, every man knew that if this wave failed to break through, they could all just wait to die.

On the firelit Scout Field, the two cavalry waves charging in a splayed wedge were constantly being sheared of their arrowhead — but the follow-up men and horses did not pause for an instant, trampling the corpses of their comrades ahead as they surged forward madly, utterly heedless of casualties.

After paying the bitter price of one-third of their manpower, the charging barbarian cavalry finally crossed the Scout Field, a stretch of barely two hundred meters. And the well-trained soldiers of the Guard Battalion had already fired off a full three volleys of nine ranks.

The next moment, within the roiling smoke, a voice amplified by an Electric Megaphone drowned out the barbarian cavalry's excited, bloodthirsty howls: "All troops, fix bayonets!"

Simultaneously, another steady voice rang out: "Fire!"