Chapter 264

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Protagonist:

Chen Yi

The West River Water Fortress is simply too rich.

The endless stream of iron goods alone, seemingly inexhaustible, has the Military Commanders of Ma La salivating; comfortable, fine clothing is fiercely sought after by the Nobles; even their cooked food carries a special, nose-pricking fragrance... Money flows like water, rapidly streaming from every corner of the Ma La-State into the West River Water Fortress. If not for the rumor of a Knight at the Pocket Qi level holding the fort, this outsiders' village would long ago have become some big shot's private manor estate.

Not every Military Commander has such patience. A Knight at Pocket Qi Level 6-7 sounds terrifying, but faced with the profit of thousands, tens of thousands of metal blades, they seem weak. Before long, Kaman, the Standard Bearer of Ma La's Third Division Infantry Battalion, began preparing for war.

He is called Standard Bearer, but in reality he is a major Military Commander. All soldiers of the Third Division Infantry Battalion come from Kaman's tribe; therefore, aside from him, no one can command them. In the Ma La-State, such tribes and infantry battalions are the main field combat force — Heavy Infantry Square Formations with long spears that can withstand cavalry charges head-on, extremely rare. As for Kaman himself, he is a Level 6 "Temple Warrior" in Pocket Ji; he doesn't know mounted combat, but his Pocket Qi level is in no way inferior. Relying on strength in numbers, his combat power is not weak.

Kaman knows that merchants who can sell thousands or tens of thousands of blades either come from the Tun River Basin, the Central City, or even a Temple. Therefore, once war starts, they must be slaughtered clean, leaving no future trouble. So, no matter how unwilling he was in his heart, he still allocated a third of the profits to invite Rubasi, the owner of the First Cavalry Battalion — Ma La's only cavalry battalion — and left a 1,000-man square formation in ambush on the other side of the river, ready to wipe out any Water Fortress people who accidentally escape in one net.

All coordination work proceeded very quickly; in about a month and a half, Kaman's tribe had prepared dried meat and other campaign rations. Equipment refurbishment took a bit longer, after all it takes time to repair; right now, leatherworkers and blacksmiths all walk with their eyes sideways (are arrogant/in high demand).

By West Continent standards, spending half a year preparing logistics before deployment is normal. Only standing elite cavalry maintain combat readiness at all times; Heavy Infantry Square Formations even have their long spears and armor supervised for production right before battle — hardwood long spears often exceed 6 meters, the rear-rank ultra-long spears reach 20 meters, and must be rested on the front-rank soldiers' shoulders to use. Wear is extremely fast, especially in Ma La's humid environment; replacing a batch of long spears every three to five years is already considered few.

At the last moment before sunset, Ma La shut its heavy city walls. The Third Division Infantry Battalion, divided among 20 large ships, sailed toward the West River Water Fortress. Warriors sat cross-legged in the holds, using combs and fingernails dipped in saliva to groom their beards. Legend says only those with neat beards can elevate their souls under the guidance of Temple Envoys; in the army, grooming one's beard is a display of momentum, proving one's fearless, death-defying spirit.

Kaman stood at the ship's bow, full of confidence, and asked: "How long until arrival?"

"2 Sha, we will definitely arrive on time." The answer came from the Temple's fleet Standard Bearer, a tall, thin man with a face full of hair. He wore a set of cotton clothes printed with "comeon" — naturally goods sold by the West River Water Fortress. This clothing isn't necessarily more comfortable than silk, but Ma La's Nobles have never worn such sturdy, form-fitting garments, hence the enthusiastic pursuit; it can be called a fashion trend, each piece worth at least one Conch Shell, and by weight, not less than blades.

2 Sha is one-twelfth of a day. Sailing upstream, this speed is already very fast. The large ships belong to the Temple, with plenty of war slaves to drive them; Kaman spent money to nearly triple the rowers, who are now exerting themselves below the waterline.

Kaman made a confirming sound through his nose, but fished out a money pouch from his hand and stuffed it into the fleet Standard Bearer's hand, laughing: "When we reach the Water Fortress later, let the men below rest a bit first, then in one go, help us rush onto the riverbank."

"Rush onto the sandbank, and the ships will be wrecked."

"The waves are big today." Kaman produced another money pouch and handed it to the hairy man.

The latter weighed it, nodded silently. Ships broken can be repaired — that's the Temple's money; the pouch in hand is solidly one's own.

Kaman was also beaming. Rushing directly onto the sandbank means his men can form ranks in the shortest time, and avoids wasting time swimming in the water. Heavy Infantry are not like others; average load per person exceeds 50 kilograms — marching speed on land is already tough; in water they're slower than turtles. Besides, Kaman also fears the West River Water Fortress might react fast; that could cost several tens more lives.

"Casualties must not exceed a hundred!"

This is the requirement Kaman set for himself; actually, it's also the Temple's requirement for all Military Commanders. Heavy Infantry are a very useful but very technique-demanding troop type; often two years are needed to train a qualified rear-rank Heavy Infantry. Those older, senior Heavy Infantry often stand on the inner side of the square formation holding shorter long spears; the stronger their technique, the greater the combat power they exert. On the grand battlefield, veterans are the only choice to hold the line; as long as brave, skilled veterans can maintain the square formation's discipline and withstand massive killing power, there is no enemy on the Continent.

Kaman isn't worried his Heavy Infantry will really suffer dozens of losses. Heavy Infantry square formations that can decide the frontline battlefield, unless in large-scale wars of tribal extermination, have relatively low attrition rates. Precisely because of this, although the Temple cannot control tribal Military Commanders from using Heavy Infantry as private troops, it has strict regulations on casualty rates during peacetime.

If not confident of taking the Water Fortress within 100 casualties, Kaman definitely would not have deployed.

Of course, this also owes to the West River Water Fortress having walls on only three sides. If it had four walls, his Heavy Infantry would have no role; the Slave Legion would have to be sent to pile up lives — that wouldn't be a matter of 40 Conch Shells, but five or six hundred, even over a thousand; and if the outside isn't sealed tight, it would be a loss.

Kaman felt his plan was flawless, closed his eyes in peace, and began enjoying the river breeze.

On the horizon, the last red glow resembled a rooster with its throat cut, trembling as it drooped its head. Dim starlight was like a hen's comb, faintly there and not. The fleet's outlines were vaguely visible; the advancing fleet relied entirely on rhythmic rowing sounds to judge mutual positions.

Kaman returned to the hold and began donning armor. Heavy Infantry equipment is all made from fierce beast hides, usually peeling the outermost, hardest hide layers from various fierce beasts, tanning them, then laminating these outer hide layers together with a special northern tree resin adhesive, forming multi-layered leather armor hard as iron. Standard-made Temple Leather Armor guarantees that ordinary ranged weapons absolutely cannot pierce through — not to mention arrows and heavy crossbows, even cavalry javelins only take effect within thirty paces; infantry javelins need not be said. Without a mount's impact force, relying solely on a soldier's arm strength, a javelin striking a strong Heavy Cavalryman may not even knock him down — might break a couple of ribs, but in fierce combat that's nothing, at least doesn't affect combat effectiveness.

Young, pretty Standard Bearer attendants then dressed Kaman in layer after layer: silk undergarments, hemp-woven inner armor, then the multi-layered Lizard Dragon hide cuirass. In the massed square formation composed of long spears and ultra-long spears, aside from the front-rank soldiers holding long shields, no one else carries shields. In the most cruel process of long spear against long spear, a good cuirass can multiply survival rates several times. Precisely because of this, many soldiers wear their ancestral heirloom equipment; some even embed metal on the outside of their leather armor, hoping at the most critical moment it won't be pierced by the enemy's ultra-long spears.

Pauldrons and vambraces are simpler, routinely made from the second hide layer of fierce beasts; the helmet is a pointed open-faced helm that doesn't obstruct the eyes, wrapped with a bit of metal on top to defend against arrows falling from above.

Kaman stroked an attendant's pretty face, proudly thrust his crotch up and said: "When I return, I'll properly dote on you. Now go wake everyone up for me."

Donning equipment takes considerable time; forming ranks takes even longer. The Third Division Infantry Battalion numbers 4,000, capable of forming a maximum battle array 20 ranks deep by 200 men wide — enough to crush a town. In West Continent history, there was an example of 120,000 slave rebels blockaded on a peninsula, repeatedly charged by two infantry battalions, slaughtered for three full days and nights before being wiped out. Although the force dispatched 1,000 men on the road, distributed across 20 ships, Kaman is confident that within half a meal's time, they can form a neat, unified square formation.

200 men per horizontal row, 15 ranks deep vertically, wielding ultra-long spears up to 18 meters — just thinking about it makes the blood boil.

Presently, the ships emitted an unpleasant creaking of wood.

"About to run aground." The fleet Standard Bearer hurriedly notified Kaman.

"Disembark as quietly as possible." Kaman immediately issued the order. He doesn't fear discovery — this is 3,000 Heavy Infantry, not the Slave Legion; let alone those mercenaries, even an equal number of Knights would be no issue.

Of course, that Pocket Qi Level 6+ "Temple Knight" needs watching; if necessary, he'll go himself.

Kaman gathered Pocket Qi around his body; he is Level 6 in Pocket Ji. Under the square formation's protection, he does not fear a Temple Knight of equal or slightly higher level — this isn't a one-on-one duel on a stage; at most sacrificing thirty or fifty Heavy Infantry lives, he can always tie him down.

On the distant Water Fortress, there is only a small flood embankment, 2 meters high, better than nothing; in the pitch-black night, it seems buried below the waterline.

The silence of the night is most terrifying; waves with rhythm yet no rhythm wash the delta's riverbank; cold river wind howls past one moment, vanishes without a trace the next.

An alien mercenary rubbed his nose, stood up, stretched lazily, preparing to take a piss then find a nest to sleep.

Suddenly ahead came "padong", "papa" sounds.

"Ships!" The sentry nearly roared; he spun and ran toward the fortress interior, muttering: They said early on to build a wall on the water surface... wonder how many people.

He didn't dare shout, because any Level 1 Pocket Ji warrior could shoot him dead with an arrow; before advance notice and his own name, mercenaries' professional integrity is quite limited.

Today's duty is Li Changning, plus four alien mercenaries, and over a dozen soldiers from Yun Village and Lie Village. The latter are equivalent to heavy machine gun assistant gunners; although trained, their level is indeed a notch lower, mainly just having a stick's worth of strength.

On the West Continent, no matter what livelihood, everyone knows some fist and foot kung fu, hunting moves; thus when recruiting brave men, everyone scrambles to come — anyway, holding a spear at home is holding a spear, standing guard outside is standing guard. Although everyone has some distrust, even fear, of heavy machine guns, this doesn't hinder Yu Weichao using a silver bullet offensive to train them — the so-called silver bullets are actually heavy machine gunners' monthly subsidy of 5 copper coins, assistant gunners' monthly subsidy of 3 copper coins; the nearby villages nearly went crazy.

The mercenaries, however, have strong professional ethics; they neither learn the Water Fortress's new weapons nor interfere with their defense arrangements. For these alien people, soldiering anywhere is the same; as long as they're worthy of the money they take, that's enough. As for learning new things, they feel no need — who knows how long they'll work at the Water Fortress; judging by appearances, they'll soon have their own army; aliens also don't want to ask for boredom and break the rules.

The mercenary sentry ran panting to the watchtower near the fortress and shouted inside: "Enemy attack, many ships."

Li Changning, hugging his blanket asleep, startled awake instantly; he flipped up with a bone-crack sound, mouth instantly dry, not knowing what to say. His chubby body trembled slightly.

Being on the West Continent, having witnessed the enormity and strength of transport beasts, Li Changning deeply distrusts the West River Water Fortress's defenses. The few fellow students with him share the same thought; therefore when learning the heavy machine gun, everyone worked extremely hard — although it's a near hundred-year-old gun, the M2 Browning with a muzzle velocity of 930 meters per second naturally inspires peace of mind; just looking at its fierce posture dominating the gun mount makes one understand. Modern new machine guns, some under 20 kilograms, beautifully named to rival heavy machine guns, but at best they're just general machine guns, expensive light machine guns.

The alien mercenaries' second-in-command, nickname "Long Spear Two", originally looked down on the soft, chubby Li Changning, thinking he looked like a rabbit selling its body; now seeing him at a loss, he said even more uncomfortably: "You go report to Village Master Yu first; Old Five, Old Eight, you gather the men, don't ring the bell yet. Old Ten and I will go look."

Li Changning finally recovered, unfastened a police-issue single-eye night vision device from his waist and handed it to "Long Spear Two", saying: "Use this to see clearly. Yun Five, you go notify the Village Master; I'll go check the fortification. You few... Yun Nine, Yun Twelve follow me; the rest stay here, await orders."

The reason the riverbank doesn't have stone walls is, on one hand, to save expenses and materials; on the other, to provide a broad field of view. The other three directions have hills and trees after all; even slightly undulating terrain would interfere with heavy machine gun firepower deployment. But the side facing the river has no such problem — targets on the water are extremely clear; it is a completely open delta riverbank, even large rocks are very rare. If someone treats this place as a landing site, they will certainly be exposed under the sights of several reinforced concrete fortifications.

"Hope the heavy machine gun can penetrate." Li Changning's confidence isn't full, but compared to alien mercenaries, he trusts the heavy machine gun more.

Among the riverfront fortifications, No. 15 has the best view. Li Changning ran there trembling, but fortunately his Body Technique level is good; he reached the position in three minutes.

The fortification can only be opened from inside; he took a wide detour before knocking open the stone door, squeezed in, and immediately felt a wave of warmth.

"Electric heater?" Li Changning's eyebrows shot up.

The four people inside the fortification were sleeping comfortably; disturbed, they were very unhappy. Lie Ba from Lie Village glared: "Weather's this cold... you're a Jiangning person? Oh, you're Li."

Yu Weichao and the others have all publicly declared themselves Jiangning people; anyway the West Continent doesn't know where Jiangning is — the world is so vast, there's probably a place called Jiangning somewhere. However, because the Water Fortress's upper echelon are all Jiangning people, anyone dealing with the Water Fortress, anyone seeing a young person with short hair and a clean face, will be a bit more careful.

Seeing that he had been recognized, Li Changning also relaxed a bit. He leaned against the observation slit of the fortified bunker and said, "You all get ready, enemies are coming."

"Who?" Everyone tensed up.

"Don't know yet." Having finished speaking, Li Changning lowered his head and began to self-criticize the heavy machine gun.

A heavy machine gun crew requires at least two people to cooperate in order to operate; otherwise, just changing the gun barrel would exhaust a person to death. The Browning M2 has no water-cooled model, so after firing at full speed for two minutes, the gun barrel becomes scorching hot, and thick cotton cloth gloves must be used to change it.

Plus the large ammunition supply capacity, the firearm is relatively complex compared to a rifle; a good machine gunner is still relatively difficult to cultivate. The several warriors inside the fortified bunker were still villagers two months ago; as for hot weapon combat skills, they cannot be mentioned in the same breath as Li Changning — at least the other guy has watched TV, watched movies.

During this time of checking the machine gun, Li Changning gradually calmed down. He ordered Yun Shi'er to turn off the electric stove, and also ordered Yun 12 and two assistant machine gunners to go fetch more bullets. The fortified bunkers are all independent now; waiting until after the battle starts to go collect bullets is dangerous and inefficient.

Looking out from the observation slit, there was only a pitch-black expanse, but if one listened carefully, one could detect the sound of large ships creaking — that was the sound caused by ships being improperly positioned in the river. Li Changning exhaled a mouthful of turbid breath, and suddenly remembered that the fortified bunkers all had night vision scopes, only the distance was relatively short.

He felt around on the ground twice, fished out a scope from a wooden crate, and without even mounting it, stooped down to look through it.

The instant the direction was adjusted, Li Changning's heart nearly stopped working.

Just how many people is this?

In the darkness, the shoddy night vision goggles couldn't see clearly either, but the dense, packed array looked terrifying just to behold. He grabbed whoever was beside him, stupidly asking, "Are there any military forces nearby?"

The fellow villager laughed heartily and shook his head: "Don't know."

Li Changning made a "ka" sound as he pulled back the bolt, and asked again: "Can the local military fight at night?"

In his impression, ancient militaries were all unable to fight night battles; there were too many constraints, pitch-black night and high wind, they could only end up hitting themselves.

The machine gunner instead asked suspiciously: "Why not? Black cats all come out at night."

The black cat is a kind of animal commonly caught by locals; its meat is tender, its size small, easy to cook.

Li Ji let out an "oh", hand resting on the trigger, not knowing whether he should pull it.

Down below, there must be tens of thousands!

Actually down below there were only 3,000 people, but prostrated on the riverbank, combined with the 20 large ships behind them, it was very easy for Li Changning to think of the unit "ten thousand".

Who knew West Continent ships could only carry a load of 150 heavy infantry.

The other people inside the fortified bunker couldn't see the scene on the riverbank; they were all wrapped in clothes comfortable, yet heard Li Changning curse a sentence, shoulder braced against the heavy machine gun.

The heavy infantry phalanx began to move.

"Distance 1,000 meters." Li Changning tensely adjusted the mechanical aperture cover. The M2 Browning's effective range is 1,800 meters — fully 6 times that of automatic rifles like the AK; aside from inferior precision and heavier weight, it is basically a continuous-state sniper rifle, its power not inferior in the slightest.

In an era without tanks or armored vehicles, heavy machine guns facing unprotected soldiers can be called slaughter; the World War I battlefield is proof. Even in the landing operations of the Second World War battlefield, Germany saw heavy machine gunners who killed over a thousand per day.

Li Changning had studied relevant knowledge, knew the heavy machine gun in his hand could shoot 7,400 meters — that is 7 kilometers far. Now the fortified bunker is only 2 kilometers from the nearest riverbank; penetrating transported beast skins is no problem.

But he didn't dare fire rashly. Although there were many fortified bunkers around, could the natives be relied upon? If only he fired and the other fortified bunkers didn't, even with a heavy machine gun, they'd probably find it hard to survive...

However, he was the water stockade's duty officer today; if he didn't fire, who would?

Watching the phalanx gradually leave the shallow water area, Li Changning's sweat was about to drip down.

A scholar rebelling — ten years without success.

Smart people deciding matters, thinking too much, instead find it hard to make a decision.

"Can't wait any longer. Could it be they haven't found Yu Weichao? She Lei's residence isn't far from the riverbank. Yun five idiots — if they can't find the person, it's over."

"If they don't come again, I'll have no choice but to open fire."

Li Changning glanced to the side and ordered: "Be ready to change gun barrels at any time, you all know how, right?"

The several natives had long been staring at him in a daze; at this moment they hurriedly said yes without hesitation. They weren't stupid; they knew something had changed.

The front suddenly flashed.

Another flash.

"Daybreak?" Yun Shi'er cried out in surprise, then corrected himself: "It's an illu, illumination flare."

"It's an illumination flare." Li Changning's tone even carried excitement. He almost instantly grabbed the two pistol grips at the rear of the receiver, his right index finger hooked the V-shaped "butterfly" trigger, simultaneously adjusting the bolt to fully automatic fire.

The next second, Li Changning cursed "To hell with your mother", finger tightened, and a crisp copper sound suddenly rang out.

A bright red fire dragon, like lightning, streaked across the black-and-white night sky.

Ten-odd seconds later, another new fire dragon joined in.

Then another.

At least three fortified bunkers firing at full speed at the riverbank; the concentrated fire of three fire dragons instantly tore a gap in the neat phalanx.

A blood-colored gap.

Tracer rounds, incendiary armor-piercing rounds, and ordinary copper bullets appeared alternatingly. The thing Li Changning worried about most did not happen — the neatly formed phalanx infantry on the riverbank had no one who could withstand. 50 caliber heavy machine gun fire with their flesh. Bullets were like razors, shaving away the people in the phalanx layer by layer.

"Single link." Li Changning roared. A wave of fishy stench blew into his mouth along with the river wind.

Li Changning froze for a moment, then turned his head and began vomiting violently.

The assistant machine gunners paid no heed to the strange smell permeating the fortified bunker; following daily training procedure, they rapidly swapped the ammunition belt.

By the time Li Changning returned to the firing port, the fire dragons before his eyes had already increased to ten, and the incendiary rounds in the sky only increased, never decreased.

……(Unfinished, if you want to know what happens after this, please log in to www. qidian. com, more chapters, support author, support genuine reading!)