Chapter 375: Breaking the Camp

The moonlit field of view was hazy. Guan Dadi walked swiftly, turning his head from time to time to fix on the gleam of his squad captain's polished helmet. The detachment up ahead had already become a surging, undulating mass of light points.

They were three hundred paces from the edge of the refugee bandit encampment, with the detachment sixty or seventy paces ahead of the main force. They adopted a four-line assault formation, serving as the spearhead to concentrate the attack on a single point and facilitate the main formation's breach of the camp.

The Mandarin Duck squads on both wings each had sixteen combat groups, eight in front and eight behind. Led by the special operations company, they executed a rapid pincer strike from both flanks toward the position of Zi Jinliang's main camp. The central detachment, tasked with the same mission, quickened their pace more and more. The Dengzhou garrison split into a forward and rear formation; only the main Ming army formation in the center continued to advance at a quick march.

Guan Dadi tilted his head to look at the wings. On both sides surged countless soldiers and spear shafts, the reflections from their polished helmets stretching all the way into the darkness. From Zhou Shaoer's perspective, it looked like a vast host of thousands upon thousands of troops.

A startled cry rang out ahead, followed by several twanging thuds. One scream cut off abruptly. Guan Dadi knew it was the path-clearing special operations company shooting the remaining hidden sentries; there would be more the further they advanced.

Soon, a few scattered refugee bandits leaped up from their dugouts. They threw away their weapons and fled toward the main camp. These men were all hidden sentries, but they had not even brought their alarm whistling arrows and could only rely on ceaseless shouting to raise the alarm.

The detachment commander controlled his unit, not allowing the soldiers to shoot at those sparse refugee bandits, instead following behind them and continuing to advance at a run. Serving as the vanguard were the special operations company and the scout cavalry, who began using bows and heavy crossbows to shoot down refugee bandits appearing nearby. Continuous shouting arose ahead, and some soldiers from the detachment began breaking away to stab the fleeing hidden sentries in the vicinity.

Some shadowy figures appeared dimly beside the campfires at the edge of the encampment. Guan Dadi tightened his grip on his spear shaft…

A few people were moving about inside the refugee bandit camp. One after another, people began to rise; the low murmur of conversation signaled that the new day would soon arrive. These earliest risers were all the family dependents of the refugee bandit able-bodied men. Their organization was based on squads of fifty able-bodied men, and the dependents of these men also belonged to the same squad. Together they numbered nearly two hundred people, generally led by one or two veteran bandits.

Those refugee dependents rose early to add firewood to the dying campfires, so they could cook meals for the cavalry and veteran bandits before daybreak. A refugee carrying a water bucket yawned and ambled out to the edge of the camp to fetch water. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something in the distance that seemed to be moving — a very long line at that.

"What's that?" the refugee muttered to himself. He had night blindness. He rubbed his eyes and looked over. It seemed to be some points of light. But he had never imagined that government troops would come raiding from the mountains, nor had he ever pictured armor looking like that at night. For a moment, he was utterly baffled.

"Which camp unit is up this early?" the refugee said to the veteran bandit in the dugout beside him. "Master Jiang, there's a camp unit up even earlier than us. They've probably gone to snatch firewood."

That veteran bandit had just woken up. He was chewing on a coarse grain cake, lying listlessly inside the dugout. Although he had lit a fire to smoke out the insects, he had still been bitten terribly during the night, his whole body covered with red scratch marks. Hearing this, he did not even bother to look, simply rolling over to go back to sleep.

The refugee pursed his lips, grabbed a water bucket, and was about to head to the pond to fetch water. Suddenly a shout rang out from the north — too distant to make out clearly what it was — followed by two twanging sounds. There was a faint cry. The veteran bandit in the dugout abruptly rolled over and stood up. He leaped out of the dugout and shoved the refugee aside. The veteran bandit was highly experienced. Although the sounds just now had not been conspicuous amid the camp's background noise, he still recognized them instantly as the vibration of bowstrings.

The veteran bandit, coarse grain cake still in hand, looked north. The sight before him left him dumbstruck. A long line composed of countless silver points of light was undulating ceaselessly, heading straight for the main camp. What men and horses appearing silently at this hour had come to do needed no asking.

The refugee scrambled up, retrieved his water bucket, and asked ingratiatingly, "Master Jiang, what's that over there? It couldn't be evil spirits coming out of the mountains, could it?"

"There's, there's…" The veteran bandit could not get the words out for a long moment. The refugee beside him kept a fawning smile as he watched the veteran bandit. The veteran bandit suddenly bellowed, "There are government troops!!!"

"Government troops?" The veteran bandit's shout was very loud. Everyone nearby stopped. People in several dugouts were also startled awake, lifting their heads in drowsy bewilderment to look around. The refugee dependents who had been busying themselves nearby also walked to the edge of the camp to see what was happening.

By now, that long line of dense bright points was within two hundred paces. The sharp spear blades and bayonets reflecting the moonlight were faintly visible. Who else but government troops would be coming at this hour?

A crowd of people stood there staring blankly at the veteran bandit. None of them had any training; they merely followed the main camp as it moved. Now that someone suddenly told them government troops were right before their eyes, charging toward them, not a single person knew what to do.

The veteran bandit froze for a moment, then began backing away as he said, "All of you, get up there for me! Grab your clubs and get up there! No one is allowed to run!" After he finished, not a single person moved. They all stared at him dumbly. The bright points over there were running faster and faster, and a rushing sound carried from the distance. The veteran bandit had no time to bother with these people. He suddenly turned and fled.

The group of refugees stared blankly for a moment, then suddenly let out a collective howl. They threw down the pots, bowls, buckets, and clubs in their hands and ran frantically toward the rear, shrieking "The government troops are here!" as they fled. The refugees along the way, not understanding what was happening, heard that government troops had come and saw people fleeing, so they all scrambled up and followed. Some who were still asleep were jolted awake but could not react in time; rising to see the chaotic scene before them, they had no idea what to do and simply ran after the others in confusion. Refugees at the perimeter gradually spotted the government soldiers one after another and began fleeing in panic. The northern edge of the encampment descended into utter chaos.

Moments later, those points of light reached the edge of the camp. The first figures of Ming troops appeared in the firelight, like mountain demons flashing out of the darkness. Row upon row of sharp bayonets glittered in the glow of the flames. The detachment swiftly charged into the encampment, ferociously stabbing every moving refugee before them. Screams rang out in an unbroken chain. An uproar erupted on the northern side of the refugee bandit camp. The first ripples of chaos spread through the previously quiet main encampment…

Four hundred detachment musketeers and the soldiers of the First Battalion headquarters began a fierce converging assault, cutting into the vast refugee bandit camp like a hot knife through butter. The Ming troops refrained from firing their muskets for the time being, delaying Zi Jinliang's escape as long as possible.

The utterly untrained refugees, caught off guard by the sudden blow, panicked. Many were startled awake from their dreams, scurrying about like headless flies. The shrieks that filled the darkness everywhere intensified their terror. Quite a few also suffered from night blindness; they fled blindly, crashing directly into the Ming army's line of advance and being stabbed to death by multiple bayonets. The chaos spread in waves along the direction of the Dengzhou garrison's assault, the scattered screams merging into a colossal roar.

The Mandarin Duck squads on both wings each detached one company to attack outward, expanding the area of chaos toward the flanks to cover the formation's vulnerable sides. The soldiers of the central detachment advanced in rows of squads, charging fiercely into the refugee bandit camp, using their bayonets to kill any refugees blocking their path while ignoring the fleeing dependents to the sides. They pressed their rapid assault straight into the interior of the refugee bandit camp. About a hundred paces behind them came the main Ming army formation, advancing at a quick march.

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Within the main formation, composed of eight square formations, came the dense sound of footsteps, mingled with the rustling vibration of chain mail, pouring into the refugee bandit encampment like quicksilver spilling across the ground.

A bugle call sounded from the position of the Second Battalion commander. Zhou Shaoer and the deputy company commander simultaneously drew their waist sabers and pointed them straight ahead, shouting orders. The squad captains thrust their flag-spears forward. The front-rank pikemen leveled their pikes in unison, using the most energy-efficient grip, holding the shaft at the midpoint on either side — a method more flexible and sustainable in night combat.

Guan Dadi, pike thrust forward, skirted around a campfire. They had just entered the refugee bandit encampment. Ahead were the flickering figures of the detachment moving between the campfires. Further ahead were countless refugee bandits. The shouting ahead was earth-shattering. The ground was a complete mess, strewn with countless discarded objects and corpses everywhere. People in the ranks kept tripping.

Guan Dadi concentrated intently, using the moonlight to identify obstacles on the ground. Suddenly, a group of refugees burst out from a little over ten paces ahead. Howling, they charged straight at them. Guan Dadi had no idea whether they had weapons. He and the pikemen beside him shouted simultaneously and thrust wildly at those dark figures. A chorus of screams rose from the other side. Moments later, the survivors fled south into the darkness.

That strange, thrilling sensation surged in his heart again. The rapidly secreting adrenaline gave Guan Dadi an urge to charge, but he could still remember military discipline. He suppressed the impulse, keeping the gleam of his squad captain's helmet in the corner of his eye to maintain the quick-march pace.

The deeper they entered the refugee bandit camp, the more refugees appeared before them. The pikemen continuously killed the dark figures that emerged ahead. Some of the screams sounded like women, but Guan Dadi had no leisure for sympathy. Anyone without a polished helmet was an enemy.

A shack appeared ahead, a pitch-black mass inside. At the squad captain's order, over ten front-rank pikemen thrust repeatedly into it. After hearing several screams, they bypassed the shack and continued advancing, still without employing musket volleys. The square formation was constantly cut apart and distorted by the camp's shacks and dugouts, able only to maintain a basically intact formation as it advanced at a quick march. The arc-shaped Ming battle line drove all the refugee bandits in its path toward the center, forcing them to crash against the position of Zi Jinliang's main camp.

By now, the entire refugee bandit encampment was convulsing. Tens of thousands of refugees in the northern sector fled wildly in chaos. The pandemonium had already spread to the middle of the encampment. Countless sleeping refugee bandits were jolted awake by the heaven-shaking howls. In the darkness, they had no idea what was happening, could not even tell direction, and thus began running aimlessly, stark naked.

At that moment, the first bugle call sounded from the left wing, its shrill note carrying far through the night sky. Immediately after came the crack of a musket volley. This meant the left wing had encountered the first wave of effective resistance and needed the firepower of a musket volley to smash the enemy.

After this round of musket volleys, the Dengzhou garrison no longer had any need for concealment. Drums and bugles sounded in unison along the Ming battle line, and volleys began successively across the entire front. The dense muzzle flashes painted the night sky with patches of red light, dazzlingly bright in the darkness just before dawn.

The refugees' nerves completely collapsed amid the thunderous gunfire. This was a night raid, plain and unmistakable. The sudden blow, combined with the intensified fear born of being unable to see, drove everyone into hysterical shrieking and fleeing for their lives. In the collective terror, even those who could initially remain calm were enveloped by the panicked atmosphere and became utterly disoriented. Among them, the several thousand infantry were mostly dispersed in their encampments. The vast majority had lost their weapons, had not even had time to put on clothes, and were swept away and scattered by tens of thousands of refugees, utterly unable to bring their fighting strength to bear.

The gunfire rang out round after round, gradually approaching the center of Zi Jinliang's encampment. The chaos spread from Zi Jinliang's camp area to the camp areas of other refugee bandits. The vast encampment was like a giant boiling cauldron. Tens of thousands of refugee bandits were like panicked ants, crashing blindly in every direction with no sense of direction. The dense crowds shoved against each other; countless people were knocked to the ground and trampled by the mob. Hundreds of horses, also spooked by the crowds, charged and reared wildly through the camp, trampling indiscriminately. The entire encampment was a hellish darkness of human shrieks and horse neighs.

Chen Xin, wearing a suit of chain mail, had just entered the encampment not long before. Beside him was the central army reserve led by Zhu Daichun. Chen Xin advanced along the central army's line of assault, his guard detail carefully protecting him.

Chen Xin had been walking all night. His usual physical conditioning was far inferior to that of these combat soldiers. Since becoming Regional Commander, the matters he had to deal with daily had grown more and more numerous. Training, let alone fitness, had become a rarity. This journey had exhausted him thoroughly, yet now he still had to force himself to press on.

The ground before him was covered with corpses and debris. Several shacks nearby were burning. Many wounded refugee bandits lay wailing on the ground. Zhu Daichun's reserve unit paid them no heed, only bayoneting the wounded who lay directly in their path.

Hearing the earth-shaking cries and wails coming from the refugee bandit camp, Wang Mafu said excitedly, "We've won."

Chen Xin shook his head and smiled. "We won this battle the moment we successfully reached the north side of the camp. But if we don't get Zi Jinliang's head, it's not a true victory. I'm still worried he'll escape. Have the cavalry liaison officers returned?"

"No." Wang Mafu, still brimming with confidence, said, "Bucktooth said at the time that Zi Jinliang usually digs a single trench around his camp, positioned at the very center of the entire encampment. Now that the camp is in total chaos, their cavalry can't get out. On foot, he can't outrun us. He probably wouldn't dare to run alone either — he might get trampled to death if he comes out. For us, the only troublesome thing is that trench."

"It won't be troublesome." Chen Xin looked at the corpses covering the ground and said flatly, "With the camp in chaos like this, these refugees are enough to fill that trench. I'm still worried he'll get away. It all depends on when our cavalry can arrive."

At that moment, a messenger ran back from the front. Panting, he said, "My lord, the forward detachment has located the wall of Zi Jinliang's main camp. The combat troops on both wings are closing the encirclement southward and will launch the attack momentarily."

"Understood. Have them dispatch troops to maintain pressure on the outer perimeter and intensify the collapse of the refugee bandits, so that the other camps have no way to send reinforcements, and also to prevent Zi Jinliang's cavalry from fleeing quickly. Our assault on Zi Jinliang's main camp must be swift and powerful. Do not fear casualties. Do everything possible to finish off the central main camp before daybreak." Chen Xin finished speaking and turned his head to look east. A streak of dawn was appearing on the horizon. (To be continued…)

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