Chapter 376: Slaughter (Requesting Monthly Tickets)

On the pitch-black earth, large and small campfires dotted the ground, many makeshift shelters had been set ablaze, and chaos likewise engulfed the other bandit camps around them. Tens of thousands of bandits fled through the darkness. To the north, rows of flashing light from massed arquebus volleys flickered unceasingly. The detached contingents and the Mandarin Duck formation combat teams were all advancing at top speed toward the center of Zijin Liang's position.

At the very center of the bandit camp lay Zijin Liang's old encampment. This had originally been a hamlet of twenty-some households, and a few intact houses still stood. The best of them was occupied by Zijin Liang himself. Spreading outward from there lived his most elite mounted troops and a portion of his infantry. The families of the mounted troops and the veteran bandits were also inside the camp wall.

Outside the old encampment ran a trench and an earthen wall. At this moment, the chaos beyond the wall was as terrifying as a flash flood bursting forth. Tens of thousands of mentally shattered refugees ran and shrieked in the darkness, then fought one another in a frenzy. Clusters of the panicked mob tumbled into the trench outside the old encampment, impaled on the sharpened stakes planted within. Those behind were shoved down on top of them, trampled underfoot before they could even stand, never to rise again.

The piled corpses and wounded nearly filled the trench. The refugees who followed, desperate and heedless of the path, scrambled up the low wall by stepping on those bodies. Some of the old encampment infantry stood atop it, hacking and stabbing with blades and spears at any refugees trying to break in. The fallen bodies formed a gentle ramp against the low wall. Though the mounted troops did their utmost to intercept, in the dim and murky conditions many refugees still crossed the low wall and burst into the old encampment. They not only fought those mounted troops but also frantically set fires and looted.

Inside the old encampment were many tents. Their living conditions far surpassed those of the refugees outside, yet now this place was likewise a living hell. Wails and screams shook the heavens within the camp. Many tents were set alight, blazing up in roaring infernos. Torches bobbed and weaved everywhere. In the firelight, countless figures and horses dashed back and forth. People hacked at one another, fighting over horses. Gold and silver lay scattered among the corpses on the ground. Some of the refugees who had burst into the old encampment were still plundering valuables from the tents.

Zijin Liang wore only an inner garment, with a suit of mail haphazardly thrown over it. In utter disarray, he was gathering men with a group of trusted followers. When the chaos first erupted, he had thought it was a camp panic — a common occurrence among hunger-oppressed refugee hordes, and even among the infantry. That was why he used an earthen wall to separate the mounted troops from the refugees. So at first he simply kept sending infantry to suppress it. Only when the sound of arquebus fire rose did he realize it was a night raid. Everywhere people were shouting wildly that government troops had come, but outside it was pitch-black. He had no idea which government force this was or how many had come. Judging by the density of the arquebus fire, he estimated around ten thousand men. He truly could not imagine where such a large Ming army had suddenly emerged from.

The sound of Ming army arquebuses and signal horns drew closer and closer. Zijin Liang could not help but burn with frantic urgency. He had no time to guess where this government force had come from. Outside, wails and screams shook the heavens. Fleeing alone was far too dangerous; he might die senselessly at the hands of deranged refugees. He guarded the main tent with a group of adopted sons and personal attendants, while repeatedly sending men to gather the mounted troops.

He seized two of his adopted sons and bellowed, "Go find some infantry! Hold the northern camp wall!"

"Great King, I've gathered two hundred men. We've seized the horses. Let's flee!"

Zijin Liang turned to look. One of his adopted sons had come running. In the direction he pointed, a cluster of men and horses had assembled in the middle of the camp. Those on the outer edge were hacking and stabbing any refugee who drew near with blades and spears. The men in the center held torches, desperately restraining the frantic horses.

Zijin Liang had faced Cao Wenzhao's sudden raids many times and was long experienced with this kind of camp collapse. The method was to rally a group and flee the main camp first, then gallop a hundred li under cover of chaos. Even if the horses ran themselves to death, they could shake off the government troops' pursuit, and later slowly reassemble the scattered and routed men.

"Go!" Zijin Liang roared, and led the group of bare-armed followers around him as he ran toward that spot.

"Elder Brother, what about the families and the silver?"

Zijin Liang did not turn his head. "Can't worry about them. Let them flee for their own lives."

Moments later they reached that place. Several adopted sons howled loudly, warning that the Great King was approaching. The men opposite sheathed their blades and spears. Zijin Liang charged into the human circle and seized a horse. At his shout, the mounted troops all swung into their saddles. Zijin Liang determined the direction and led the way, galloping toward the southern camp gate. They shouted as they rode, and many scattered mounted troops fell in behind them, forming the largest single group fleeing for their lives.

This body of mounted troops spurred their horses to clear a path, hacking desperately with blades and spears at any refugees blocking the way. Dense hooves trampled over corpses as they pressed toward the camp gate. The debris and bodies on the ground severely hampered the mounted troops' speed. In the darkness they could not see clearly. Many horses kept stumbling into hollows and lurching over, making their pace even slower than walking.

From the north and east came wave after wave of fierce volleys, sounding already not far from the camp wall. Zijin Liang was frantic with urgency, urging his men to speed up. Several adopted sons with superb riding skills personally cleared the way.

The two leaves of the camp gate lay askew to one side. Among those there were still quite a few bandits fleeing on horseback. Some old encampment infantry still guarded the earthen rampart. The mounted troops in front raised their long spears and stabbed wildly into the crowd. Several infantrymen struck back with blades and spears, even skewering two of the lead mounted troops. Zijin Liang and the others surged forward together. At the camp gate, shrieks rang out in succession. Men and horses toppled in a tangled heap. The mass of bandits jammed there scattered in a rush.

The mounted troops swarmed out of the camp gate. Zijin Liang finally made it outside. As he raised his eyes, the sky beyond was ablaze with firelight. Many makeshift shelters had been set alight, turning into giant torches. In the firelight, countless refugees ran wildly in all directions. The entire encampment was filled with frenzied wails and screams.

East of the camp gate, a volley of arquebus fire suddenly rang out. Wave after wave of men and women surged like a tide toward the camp gate. The mounted column that had just exited the gate was instantly engulfed by that human current, becoming utterly unable to move a single step. No matter how they hacked and slashed, the tide of refugees still broke their formation apart. Over a thousand refugees squeezed through the gaps between the mounted troops, even jostling the horses until they could not stand steady. Startled horses leaped and bucked in panic. Some ferocious infantry seized the chance to kill the mounted troops beside them and snatch the horses for themselves. Amid the mounted column, men shouted and horses screamed in utter chaos. Zijin Liang's mounted group was firmly blocked at the camp gate, with the rear contingent still trapped inside the gate.

Amid the chaos, the first group of government troops appeared in Zijin Liang's field of vision. There were about forty or fifty of them, charging swiftly from the east. An officer waved his hand to halt the detachment. Some of the soldiers raised their guns and fired a volley into the tightly packed refugees. Blood sprayed from the crowd. The nearby refugees were nearly driven to madness. Countless people were trampled and crushed to death.

The soldiers from that Ming force who had fired stayed in the rear ranks to reload. The rest gave a great roar and surged forward with blades and spears raised, hacking at those refugees from behind. The refugees fled screaming toward the southwest.

Zijin Liang was carried southwestward by this surging wave of people. Only a dozen or so adopted sons and personal guards still kept by his side. They hacked furiously with their blades at the men and women refugees around them. Even as their blade edges curled from the slaughter, they could not disperse those frenzied people. The other mounted troops were either blocked inside the camp or scattered by the crowd. Before fleeing, Zijin Liang turned his head to look back toward the camp gate. He saw several dozen more government troops had newly appeared. They sealed the camp gate, showing not the slightest fear that it was full of mounted troops inside. Ferociously they charged forward, cutting down one by one those mounted troops who were jammed together and milling in place. Even the riderless horses trying to charge out were skewered and toppled by their dense thicket of weapons.

Zijin Liang watched, heart pounding with terror. He had never seen government troops so ferocious — they did not even fear stampeding horses. His old encampment mounted troops were finished. Zijin Liang had no time to grieve over them. In any case, he had been beaten to this state many times before. Someone would always manage to escape, and then he could gather them again later. His only worry was how to get away right now.

Unable to turn south, he could only flee in the direction the crowd was moving. Behind him, the adopted sons grew fewer and fewer as they ran. One after another, men were dragged from their horses by the refugees beside them, then vanished into the human tide…

A brass horn sounded. Zhou Shao'er led the charge toward that earthen wall. Several bow-armed bandits appeared atop the wall. The arquebusiers on both flanks fired two successive volleys, toppling two of them. Those two tumbled backward with shrieks and disappeared behind the earthen wall.

Guan Dadi followed behind Zhou Shao'er, advancing swiftly with his long spear raised, treading over the corpses that covered the ground. The area before the earthen rampart was piled with refugees who had been trampled to death or injured. They filled the trench in front of the wall. A figure flickered before his eyes. Guan Dadi skewered a fleeing refugee with one thrust. After a brief pause, he caught up with the advancing formation. The rows of pikemen charged forward with a roar, treading over the layered corpses in the trench until they reached the base of the earthen rampart. A dozen or so infantrymen wielding long spears suddenly appeared atop the rampart. They stabbed wildly down from above, wounding several pikemen. The pikemen below surged forward to strike back, dense spearheads converging from multiple sides. Those infantrymen were all first struck in the legs, then fell to their knees, and were then skewered into sieves by clusters of long spears.

The covering arquebusiers fired two more volleys. No more bandit infantry remained standing on the earthen wall. The front-rank pikemen began clambering up the wall. At Guan Dadi's position, there were not as many corpses piled up. The slope was quite steep. Guan Dadi failed to charge up in one step. Several pikemen behind him threw down their long spears and shoved his rear from behind. Guan Dadi's foot found a hollow; he used the leverage to leap up onto the earthen rampart.

Guan Dadi braced himself on the rampart with his left hand, dragging his long spear with his right. He raised his eyes and looked down. Right in front of him was a bandit, who was holding a bow and preparing to climb the rampart to shoot. Both men froze for an instant. The bandit instinctively moved to draw his bow. Guan Dadi gave a great roar and drove his long spear one-handed into the man's chest. Then he stood up, seized the spear shaft, and charged down from the top of the rampart. Using the momentum of the downhill rush, he drove the bandit infantryman all the way to the base of the rampart and pinned him dead to the ground. Right after, other pikemen appeared atop the rampart and dispersed the remaining bandit infantry on the reverse side. Zhou Shao'er then clambered up. Without waiting for the men behind, he loudly ordered the soldiers who had already entered to press the attack forward.

Many tents inside the old encampment were ablaze. The light within was bright, but smoke billowed everywhere. Through the smoke, countless figures and horses dashed back and forth. Guan Dadi followed to Zhou Shao'er's right rear. The company commander's saber pointed forward, its blade reflecting the surrounding firelight. The assembled pikemen automatically formed a line, obeying Zhou Shao'er's commands. Some men from the Second Company were even mixed in among them, but the formation was the pikemen's foundation. As they did in daily drill, they entered the formation almost by conditioned reflex.

More and more pikemen and arquebusiers clambered over the earthen rampart, flowing like streams into the old encampment, then automatically converged in one place, assembling into rows of battle lines of varying lengths.

They advanced in the direction the saber pointed. Row after row of long spears thrust and withdrew unceasingly, slaughtering the clusters of bandits before them. The arquebusiers on the pikemen's flanks fired at will. These arquebusiers had also lost their unit organization after crossing the earthen wall. The square formation was even mixed with some soldiers from the detached contingents — no one knew when they had joined in.

Amid the heaven-filling shrieks, it was impossible to command by shouted orders. The soldiers each sought out their own targets. Their minds were in a state of extreme tension and agitation. After firing, they reloaded on the spot, then chased after the forward units. Whenever they saw a target, they fired, then repeated the process. The tension and the dark, clamorous environment made them operate at lightning speed, but also multiplied their handling errors. Many men shot their ramrods away. Quite a few double-loaded or forgot to prime the pan. After repeated failures to fire, many arquebusiers slung their guns across their backs, drew their waist sabers, and charged out of the pike formation to hack and kill. Fewer than half still persisted in firing.

Though the Dengzhou garrison was in chaos, the bandits were in chaos beyond all measure. The government troops' attack continued. The occasional ferocious bandit who emerged to counterattack was no match for the long spears. Wherever the pikemen passed, the ground was littered with dead and wounded. Blood pooled into winding streams, spreading and overflowing across the ground in every direction.

Guan Dadi ran swiftly in the first rank. Sweat slid down his cheeks in rivulets. Zhou Shao'er was shouting himself hoarse up ahead. Guan Dadi could not make out what he was shouting. He only knew to follow Zhou Shao'er as he ran, and to kill whatever appeared before his eyes.

Suddenly, a dark shape flickered ahead to the left. A large object hurtled swiftly toward them, slamming into and bowling over an arquebusier who had charged out diagonally ahead, then came straight for the pike formation. The pikemen shouted in unison. Three or four long spears stabbed into that horse one after another. Two of them snapped with loud cracks. Several pikemen were sent staggering by the horse's momentum.

The horse's charge slowed. It veered sideways for a couple of steps, then bucked and struggled in place, emitting agonized, rasping whinnies. The pikemen beside it stabbed it repeatedly. Guan Dadi drove his spear into its neck with all his might. Blood gushed from the horse's entire body. It finally collapsed to the ground, its hind legs still twitching spasmodically.

Before he could catch his breath, he saw Zhou Shao'er and the men on the right charging ahead. Guan Dadi hastily lifted his spear and chased after them. His legs felt weak beneath him now. After charging two li, his stamina was nearly spent. But the company commander had gone ahead, so he could only push forward with all his remaining strength.

The soldiers panted heavily, dragging their exhausted limbs forward by sheer inertia. More and more Dengzhou soldiers were gathering around them. Some Mandarin Duck formation combat teams from the First Regiment had also attacked up the earthen walls on both flanks. The infantry abandoned their resistance and, hemmed in by the government troops, fled toward the southern gate.

The acrid smell of burning dry grass filled their nostrils. Guan Dadi caught up with Zhou Shao'er's formation. The comrades around him shifted from a sprint to a jog, and finally to a fast march. Guan Dadi could only match their pace. In this chaotic environment where visibility was so poor, they had to maintain formation.

They passed through the smoke of the camp, eyes wide as they tried to identify the figures before them. Anyone not wearing a Ming army helmet, he stabbed with his spear. Another dark shape moved ahead. He thrust instinctively. The dark shape collapsed with the blow. Only then did he notice it was very small — it seemed to be a child of just a few years.

He had no time to think. More and more running figures emerged from the smoke. The pikemen had to stab continuously just to keep advancing. Guan Dadi's arms ached with exhaustion; he almost wanted to throw down his long spear.

Ahead in the smoke, men shouted and horses screamed. Gunfire rang out to the south. Ahead came a burst of hysterical yelling. Countless refugees and mounted troops emerged from the smoke and firelight, charging straight toward the pikemen's battle line.

Guan Dadi had no idea how many bandits were still out there, but he absolutely had no path of retreat. The pikemen halted. The soldiers in the rank behind Guan Dadi extended their long spears past his flanks. Before the battle line, spearheads bristled like a forest.

The human tide surged toward them. Zhou Shao'er shouted desperately at the formation, but his voice was drowned in the surrounding din. The crowd soon crashed against them. Before they could even see clearly through the smoke, the pike line began its fierce stabbing. Clusters of spearheads thrust and withdrew in succession. The human tide was like a wave crashing against a dike, brutally blocked by a city wall formed of long spears. An unbroken spray of blood mist erupted from the front of the crowd. Shrieks of utter agony merged into one continuous sound. The horses mixed among them met the same fate.

Guan Dadi did not know how long he had been killing. Suddenly, the space before him cleared. The human tide had vanished. The remaining men and horses fled southward again. Before him lay corpses piled layer upon layer, several deep, forming a wall of flesh. The wounded men and horses within it still writhed and struggled feebly.

Guan Dadi could barely feel his own hands. He turned his head to look at the comrades around him. Their faces were equally numb, covered in blood and grime. Everyone was breathing in ragged, heavy gasps. For the first time, Guan Dadi understood that killing people could exhaust a man to this degree.

"Advance!" Zhou Shao'er's shout rang out. Then the shouts of other officers rose from both flanks. Dragging his nearly numb limbs, Guan Dadi laboriously stepped onto that wall of corpses, striding over the wounded writhing beneath his feet. By now, there were almost no human figures left ahead. But quite a few riderless horses remained in place. Guan Dadi naturally would not kill them. Before the battle, Old Fourth Zhong had specifically ordered them not to kill horses indiscriminately.

Now the smoke gradually thinned, and the surroundings suddenly grew much quieter. They walked out of the dense smoke zone. Guan Dadi sensed that the light before his eyes seemed considerably brighter. He looked up at the sky. Dawn was breaking.

Then he saw corpses covering the ground. Amid the corpses, bandits knelt densely packed together. There were also several hundred riderless horses. The bandits seemed even more utterly exhausted, without even the strength to stand. Even kneeling, they swayed unsteadily. The dawn had brought light. Once they could see their surroundings clearly, their frenzied state ended. But their physical strength had long been drained. They no longer ran, nor did they howl. They stayed where they were, awaiting the slaughter they believed was certain to come.

Their eyes were filled with numbness as they stared blankly at these government troops before them. The soldiers' faces, arms, and weapons were all covered in crimson bloodstains, like bloodthirsty asuras and yakshas.

The battle line paused briefly before these refugees. Guan Dadi soon spotted soldiers from the First Regiment approaching from the south. An officer picked his way through the corpses and captives covering the ground and came over to their side. He found Zhou Shao'er. Then another company commander also ran over. The three men put their heads together and conferred briefly. The First Regiment officer then turned back and led his men southward.

"All arquebusiers stay behind to guard the prisoners. The rest continue advancing."

This was the first time tonight Guan Dadi had clearly heard Zhou Shao'er's order. The arquebusiers immediately drew their waist sabers and began herding the captives on the ground. The pikemen passed through the gaps between the captives and marched south.

Zhou Shao'er did not have them form up to exit through the camp gate, because the corpses and captives covering the ground would make that simple maneuver time-consuming and laborious. The soldiers no longer had enough energy for it either. So he kept the battle line intact and had the soldiers climb the earthen rampart via the inner slope on the south side, then slide down the earthen wall and continue advancing.

Guan Dadi was in the second rank. Ahead of him was another non-commissioned officer. His stamina was somewhat better than Guan Dadi's, and he had volunteered to stand in the first rank. Guan Dadi's shoes were soaked through with blood, slippery and clammy inside. Only now did he register this discomfort. He climbed the earthen rampart via the slope. After the NCO ahead slid down, the sight before him made Guan Dadi stare in shock.

The open plain stretching before his eyes was covered with a dense carpet of corpses and debris, nearly obscuring the color of the earth itself. Tens of thousands of refugees knelt on the ground. Hundreds of horses and mules stood still or ambled slowly. The burned-out shelters vomited plumes of black smoke into the sky.

A li away, bandits were scattering in all directions. The densely surging heads were beyond counting. The red-coated Dengzhou garrison troops were still in pursuit behind them. The ground exposed in their wake was again a scene of utter devastation.

"What're you doing?" a soldier behind him asked.

Guan Dadi snapped back to his senses. He extended his spear downward to brace against the ground, then slid down hugging the earthen wall. Where his feet landed was again a corpse. Guan Dadi took several steps until he stood on solid earth, and only then did his heart ease.

The first ray of sunlight spilled down. Guan Dadi gazed eastward; the morning sun was just rising, and a column of cavalry was approaching from west to east. (To be continued…)

ps: Asking for monthly tickets.