Chapter 1280

Li Yongfu took a quick step and rushed to Ma Xingkong's side, blade pressed against his throat, shouting: "You treacherous dog! If you don't call off your men, do you not want your life?"

Ma Xingkong laughed loudly: "Life and death are fate, wealth and honor come from heaven! I, Ma Xingkong, have spent decades licking blood from the blade's edge—what is there to fear? I'll tell you plainly, I and my brothers have long sworn to live and die with the Blackwater Stronghold! If you've got the guts, kill me and make me bow? Pipe dream!" From the moment he decided to feign surrender to deceive the enemy and gain their trust, he had already cast aside life and death.

Li Yongfu roared, delivering a heavy punch to Ma Xingkong's jaw, knocking him to the ground seated, then had him bound. He looked to Yu Tianxing, seeking his opinion, hoping Yu Tianxing could devise a solution to the present predicament.

Yu Tianxing's face turned ashen; he had thought victory was in his grasp, never expecting a sudden change, and for a moment could not think of a good plan. On both banks of the waterway, tens of thousands of water bandits had surged forward, the front lines consisting entirely of the elderly, weak, women, and children. Hu Xiaotian's naval troops were all stunned; the tenacity of the Blackwater Stronghold's bandits was unprecedented—men, women, old and young alike had become a nation in arms, and despite facing the well-trained Dakang navy, none showed fear.

Li Yongfu saw Yu Tianxing standing there dazed and shouted, "Strategist!"

Yu Tianxing was startled by his shout, snapped out of his daze, looked at the surging crowds on both banks, and for a moment could not decide. He bit his lip; the entrance to the inner harbor and the exit of the water gate were both sealed by iron bars, leaving them with no advance or retreat—only a forced landing and close-quarters combat with the enemy remained.

At that moment a rumbling sound came from the left slope; Yu Tianxing looked up, but the rain made it hard to see. When he could see clearly, logs and rocks came crashing down from Mingjing Slope. More than ten ships were struck; one warship, its deck pierced by a boulder, began to sink slowly, forcing its crew to abandon ship and scramble ashore. As soon as they leapt into the water, they were swarmed by frenzied man-eating fish, and for a time the river surface was filled with miserable cries for help and wails. The scene was too horrific to behold.

Li Yongfu saw Yu Tianxing seemingly frightened by the scene, inwardly sighing that after all he was just a scholar, likely to be overwhelmed, and shouted loudly: "Brothers, ready the bows! Force a landing!"

In fact, a warship had already pulled ashore; soldiers had just stepped onto the bank when the bandits surged forward to engage in melee. The Blackwater Stronghold's bandits were exceptionally vicious, sending the elderly, weak, women, and children to the front as shields. Although the Da Yong navy held a considerable advantage in combat strength, they could not bring themselves to strike those civilians, causing their own casualties to mount severely.

Yu Tianxing gazed at the chaotic scene before him, his eyes reddened. He turned and rushed to Ma Xingkong's face, seized his neck, and shouted hoarsely: "Make them stop! Make them stop!"

Ma Xingkong stared at Yu Tianxing and laughed maniacally: "If you want to take Bixin Mountain, you'll have to pay a heavy price! Our Blackwater Stronghold will never submit!"

Li Yongfu's voice rang out from the side: "Fire! Brothers. Show no mercy, kill without hesitation!" At this life-and-death juncture there was no room for doubt; arrows rained down like locusts into the crowd, felling many. Among them were women and children. Li Yongfu clenched his fists—he had no choice. He saw one of his own soldiers have his throat slit by a twelve- or thirteen-year-old boy, merely a child, how could he be so brutal? In a matter of life and death, there is no place for mercy.

Ma Zhongtian observed the battlefield from a high point, his eyes also reddened. Although his father had successfully lured the official troops into the stronghold and they had gained some local victories, in this melee battle nobody would emerge victorious.

Behind them came a commotion—several brothers in water gear were carrying back a person; they were all members of the Water Ghost Squad, and the one they bore was the squad's leader, Li Degang. They had taken eight hundred men to ambush the enemy ships outside, but after being discovered by the official forces, fewer than ten survived to return alive.

Li Degang was breathing his last; Ma Zhongtian had always been as close as brothers with him, Li Degang's mouth opening and closing, clearly about to expire. Ma Zhongtian came tearfully to his side, grasped his hand, and Li Degang strained: "Sorry… young stronghold master… I failed… to complete… the mission you entrusted to me…"

Ma Zhongtian shook his head and said: "Don't say that!"

Li Degang suddenly grabbed his arm: "Young stronghold master… please… do not take those women, children, and elders… we can die for our families… but we cannot let our families…" He trailed off as his breath gave out.

Ma Zhongtian turned away, secretly wiping his hot tears, then reached out to close Li Degang's eyes that had not yet shut.

Wang Boxi sighed and said: "Young stronghold master, look!"

Ma Zhongtian followed the direction Wang Boxi pointed and saw his father already hoisted high upon the mast; the enemy clearly intended this to force their surrender. Ma Zhongtian bit his lip and said: "My father once swore to live and die with the stronghold!" He resolutely carried out his father's strategy.

Having Ma Xingkong personally feign surrender to gain the enemy's trust, lure their fleet into the stronghold, then launch close-quarters combat—all this originated from Wang Boxi's plan. Yet seeing the horrific scene before him, Wang Boxi began to waver first. "Kill ten thousand enemies, lose five thousand of our own"—if the fight continued, both sides would suffer heavy losses; what could they gain? In Wang Boxi's heart he did not want mutual destruction, but Ma Xingkong regarded Bixin Mountain as his life; as a subordinate he could only obey Ma Xingkong's orders.

Ma Zhongtian suddenly drew his waist sword; Wang Boxi shuddered and whispered: "Young stronghold master!"

Ma Zhongtian looked at Wang Boxi, his face full of questioning.

Wang Boxi said: "The Water Ghost Squad has been annihilated; we are surely doomed!"

Ma Zhongtian replied: "So what? Kill one, it's one; kill two, you profit a pair!" As his words fell, a tremendous thunderclap boomed; smoke rose from the southern water gate's iron barrier, which had been blown to pieces by some unknown object.

For this assault on Bixin Mountain, Hu Xiaotian brought only a single "thunderbolt cannon"; he had never intended to use this immensely powerful weapon. In fact, he presently had only five cannons at his disposal. To prevent leaks, he dismissed the artisans and destroyed the blueprints, since the artisans built the thunderbolt cannons in separate stages, so no one could master the entire process alone—not to mention the gunpowder formula, which Hu Xiaotian personally prepared. Before arriving at Yunze, Hu Xiaotian had thought this would be an easy victory, but he had not anticipated the fierce resistance of the Blackwater Stronghold's bandits; most people, including himself, underestimated the hardship of this battle. Had he foreseen the present situation, he would have brought all five thunderbolt cannons, fired them in unison, and taken Bixin Mountain without breaking a sweat.

Seeing the water gate rise and trap their own fleet inside the stronghold, Hu Xiaotian, after clearing underwater hazards, immediately ordered an advance toward the Blackwater Stronghold, telling Gao Yuan to ready the thunderbolt cannon. This shot was extremely precise and immensely powerful, directly blasting open the iron gate blocking the waterway.

After firing the first shot, the gunners immediately cleaned the barrel and reloaded. The second cannon was aimed at Mingjing Slope; amid a deafening roar, the shell arced into the sky then plummeted, striking a massive boulder on the slope, shattering it to fragments that flew everywhere. Although this shot did not hit its intended target directly, the damage was greater: the flying stone and wood splinters became deadly shrapnel radiating outward, inflicting heavy casualties on the bandits concealed on Mingjing Slope who were hurling logs and rocks at the trapped warships in the waterway—over two hundred were killed instantly by the blast.

After the smoke cleared, Mingjing Slope resembled a hell on earth, casualties littered the ground, limbs and torsos strewn about, wails and cries of agony unceasing.

Ma Zhongtian and Wang Boxi, among others, felt the earth shake; they instinctively threw themselves to the ground, looking at each other with deep fear in their eyes. Ma Zhongtian cried out: "What is that?" Wang Boxi shook his head, when outside a ragged, blood‑covered lackey came running in, panicked: "Young stronghold master… the southern water gate has been breached!"

Ma Zhongtian rose to his feet; the southern water gate was one of the Blackwater Stronghold's most sturdy gates—how could it be so easily broken? He demanded: "What are you saying?"

The lackey, still shaken, replied: "We don't know what happened either; suddenly we saw a huge iron ball fly from afar, smash into the gate, and blow it to pieces."

Ma Zhongtian bellowed: "Follow me!" He strode out of the command post.

The troops who had been locked in melee along the waterways were evidently stunned by those two thunder‑like explosions; by now Hu Xiaotian's warships had steadied from the initial chaos, and the soldiers fired toward the shore while shouting in unison: "Those who follow me prosper, those who oppose me perish, as heaven decrees—only I, Lord Hu!" The cry struck like a storm surge against the bandits' psychological defenses; their ferocity and stubbornness began to waver amid the thunderous blasts.

The third shell struck the command post directly, reducing it to rubble in an instant; Ma Zhongtian and the others had just moved a short distance away, fortunate to escape being crushed, but the violent ground tremor threw them off balance, and they toppled over in a heap.

Although the three shots inflicted only limited damage on the enemy, they dealt a tremendous psychological blow; the steady Yongjiang navy launched a full‑scale assault, arrows raining down like locusts, and the previously frenzied attackers began to fall back.

At that moment the rescue fleet sailed through the breached gap, and the situation swiftly tilted in favor of the Yongjiang navy. Everywhere rang their slogan: "As heaven decrees—only I, Lord Hu!" (To be continued~^~)