Chapter 163: Battle of Dongchang Prefecture (Part 1)

'Ton-ton-ton~'

He downed a can of Red Bull in one gulp and casually tossed the can aside.

Lin Dao pulled one out from a pile of walkie-talkies by reading the label paper stuck on them.

"Shift your unit's position left by five hundred and fifty zhang!"

He shouted at the top of his lungs, "There's a gap on the left, go plug it!"

He then grabbed another walkie-talkie: "Guihai Camp? When are you going to rest and refit? I'm giving you one last quarter of an hour to make up your losses, then immediately go fill the gap fifty zhang behind Guimao Camp!"

Drones monitoring the battlefield, walkie-talkies directing combat—in this world of the Great Ming Dynasty, it was truly one of a kind.

The scale of the battlefield was too large; he couldn't keep up, really couldn't keep up.

Lin Dao hurriedly landed the surveillance drone hovering over the battlefield, and his bodyguards swarmed forward to quickly and skillfully replace the batteries.

'Boom—rumble~~~'

In the central army's battle line, the artillery camps on both sides were dueling.

The artillerymen Kong Youde brought to Liaodong were indeed of high quality.

These elites trained by French instructors hired at great expense by Sun Yuanhua, under the impact of drones and the bombardment of artillery camps, stubbornly set up their cannons and returned fire.

A scorching round cannonball burst from the muzzle, flew over Ali, and landed in the dense ranks of the rebel army.

In an instant, it carved a bloody path!

Soldiers along the way were either dead or wounded!

Even those clad in fine lamellar armor were as good as paper before such hot weapons.

The nearby formations were obviously panicked, and many even turned pale and vomited.

Officers shouted and cursed, punching and kicking to keep everyone steady, forbidding them to move.

At the same time, they reiterated military discipline.

"Deserters shall be executed on the spot!"

"All fields, residences, and property bestowed upon their families shall be confiscated!"

"Their descendants within three generations shall not be allowed to join the army or take the civil service examinations!"

"Stand firm! Men die, birds face the sky—there's nothing to fear!"

'Boom~~~'

Another cannonball came flying over.

This time the powder charge might have been less, landing more than ten zhang in front of the army formation.

But backed by tremendous kinetic energy, the cannonball kicked up a large clump of mud as it bounced up, suddenly charging forward into the army formation.

It broke legs, broke arms, shattered bodies.

Every carbon-based organism on the cannonball's flight path, unless wearing Astartes Power Armor, shattered wherever it struck.

Only when its kinetic energy was exhausted would it stop.

Left on the ground was a piece obviously deformed and twisted, covered in blood and gore.

The auxiliary soldiers rushed forward, carrying away the wounded and the dead soldiers on stretchers.

The wounded were sent to the medical camp; the dead were gathered together, and specialized scribes recorded their identities.

Other officers arranged armored auxiliary soldiers to step forward and fill the gaps.

It was obvious that after suffering bombardment here in the central army, morale had been affected to some extent.

But because the threshold was high, they could still hold on.

The surveillance drone took to the sky again.

Seeing the Tartar artillery positions flashing with firelight, with gunpowder smoke rising from the muzzles from time to time.

Lin Dao picked up the walkie-talkie labeled with the artillery camp: "What are you doing? Blast the enemy's cannons!"

Firing cannons wasn't as simple as imagined.

Especially smoothbore cannons; their accuracy was actually not high.

Bombarding dense army formations was fine, but bombarding specific points made the difficulty skyrocket.

Feeling the pressure from the Grand Commander, the acting head of the artillery camp broke out in a cold sweat.

He also roared angrily, "No more single shots!"

"Fire by groups!"

"Four cannons per group, bombarding the same target simultaneously."

The suicide drone rose again, circled twice in the air, then dove straight at a red-coated great cannon.

"Shoot it down, shoot that strange bird down!"

Kong Youde, brandishing his waist blade, bellowed the order.

Those with bows shot arrows; those with firelocks simply fired their firelocks straight at the sky.

They had long felt the terror of the strange bird from the sky.

When it flew high, there was really nothing to be done.

But once it dove down, they truly wished they could throw their knives and spears into the sky to smash the strange bird down.

Perhaps quantitative change produced qualitative change, or perhaps luck was off the charts.

This diving drone—whether struck by an arrow or hit by a firelock—was unknown.

It lost control, tumbled and twisted as it fell, crashing not far from the cannon position.

In the roaring explosion, flying fragments of all kinds knocked down more than ten Bondservants slaves and Tartar Han Army Banner troops.

But at least the selected red-coated great cannon remained completely unharmed.

Kong Youde breathed a sigh of relief.

The pressure brought by those strange birds in the sky was too great.

When they fly high, you can't hit them; when they dive down, they're too fast—hitting them is all down to luck.

Even more terrifying is that they explode after landing!

Their power was like a gunpowder depot exploding—beyond human capability.

He had just taken down his water flask on his side, wanting to take a drink.

His sharp ears heard the humming sound coming from the sky again.

The water flask in his hand fell to the ground, and Kong Youde wailed.

"How many are there!?"

At this moment, both sides' left and right wings were already engaged, but here in the center army a huge ring had formed, with the main force being the large cannons on both sides bombarding each other.

"Great Khan!"

Dorgon, who had previously escaped disaster, rode his horse over and said, "Should we send a signal to have the Grand Beile send troops?"

"The enemy formation hasn't moved."

Huang Taiji shook his head. "It's not time yet."

The many Erdalans around were all looking up at the sky with tense expressions, vigilant.

Those strange birds that explode are too terrifying.

"Go tell Duoduo and Jirhalang." Huang Taiji, with a calm expression, instructed Dorgon, "Tell them to commit their troops, crush the enemy opposite. Force them to move their reserve troops over."

"Your side too."

"You and Shoto send troops to apply pressure on the right wing, forcing out the enemy's reserve troops!"

"Remember, let the Han Army Banner and the Mongol Tribes go first!"

Dorgon received the order and left.

Most of the Eight Banners armored troops were not present, commanded by Hao Ge to maneuver and ambush in the distance.

Waiting for the signal to charge straight into Lin Dao's rear formation.

This was also a tactic Huang Taiji often used.

Lin Dao's rear formation still had many troops not yet deployed; Huang Taiji had to intensify the attack to force them out, creating an opportunity for Hao Ge.

"Pah!"

After Dorgon left, Huang Taiji spat out a ginseng slice.

He took the tea bowl handed over by an Erdalan beside him and drank the ginseng soup in one gulp.

He caught his breath, then took another ginseng slice and held it in his mouth.

"Great Khan~~~"

Fan Wencheng, Ning Wanwo, and others beside him all showed sorrowful expressions.

Using medicine to cling to life; once the effect wears off, it's all over~~~

"Need not say more."

Huang Taiji, with a flushed face, waved his hand. "In this battle, victory is allowed, defeat is not!"

The Jurchen slaves cannot afford to lose!

For them, losing a major pitched battle even once means they'll never have a chance to turn things around!

Once their main force is lost, there's no need for the Ming Dynasty to act.

Those Han Army Banners, Mongol Tribes, and Koreans will swarm over and tear them to pieces!

Only by constantly winning on the battlefield can they survive.

On Lin Dao's side, another can of Red Bull was opened.

His eyes were red, and his throat was almost smoking.

A war of this scale truly isn't something ordinary people can command.

Mental exhaustion was too great, vocal cord exhaustion was also great, and bladder pressure was also great.

He got up and came to the side of the Observation Platform, and directly urinated in public.

On the battlefield there aren't so many formalities; no one cares about these things.

He shook it, then shook it again.

He turned back to sit on the Ma Zha, grabbed the drone controller, and once again piloted the drone to take off.

"I want to see just how many cannons you have!"

Lin Dao was also ruthless; he had to wipe out the Tartars' Artillery Camp.

Drones took off one after another, directly crashing into them.

With these cannons present, Lin Dao's hundred-ton king couldn't take the field.

At the same time, the battles on both sides' left and right wings entered a heated state.

"Prince~~~"

An armored man stepped forward, presenting a ferocious head. "Liu Liang Zuo has been beheaded!"

"Good."

Duoduo nodded. "The merit is recorded; the Great Khan will reward you with half a career."

Liu Liang Zuo was at least a Commanding Officer, but among the Tartars, he was worth only half a career.

Lin Dao's value was much higher.

Among the Tartars, capturing him alive would directly make one a Prince of a Commandery, while beheading him would make one a Beile!

No one knew if Huang Taiji wanted to capture Lin Dao alive even more, perhaps intending to arrange palace concubines to persuade him to surrender.

"Send Liu Ze Qing's men up."

Duoduo rubbed his gums and said, "Keep a tight watch; whoever flees, behead them."

Liu Liang Zuo's forces were already finished.

Now it was Liu Ze Qing's turn to be unlucky.

This former Shandong Commanding Officer of the Great Ming, in a special and embarrassing way, joined this unprecedented great battle.

Liu Ze Qing, who had only just had his head shaved, silently followed behind the soldiers.

He had no household servants by his side, only two White Banner Infantrymen with faces full of coarse flesh and mouths full of rotten teeth.

The White Banner Infantrymen's hands always gripped their sword hilts, and their eyes were fixed on his neck at all times.

If there was any sign of trouble, they would immediately hack him to death.

Liu Ze Qing sighed inwardly.

"It's all the Guan Ning Iron Cavalry's fault!"

"If you had come to reinforce us, Linqingzhou would not have fallen."

"It's all Shi Kefa's fault!"

"You just had to come to Linqingzhou."

"If you hadn't come, I'd still be the local emperor of Linqingzhou."

"How could I have fallen to this state?"

"It's all your fault!"

The Fake Ming Army, driven forward by blades and spears, trembled with fear as they advanced to face the righteous army's blades.

First greeting them were firelocks sounding like popping beans, and the hum of strong crossbow triggers.

Firelock production in the Yonghe Spacetime gradually increased, and about a hundred or more were distributed to the camps here.

Rows of firelocks fired continuously, while the Fake Ming Army fell in swathes.

The various firelocks of the Fake Ming Army also counterattacked in panic.

The crackling sounds merged into one.

As expected, screams from various firelock explosions rang out incessantly.

The Fake Ming Army's range was insufficient, having almost no effect on the righteous army.

Instead, their own firelock explosions caused many losses.

The firelock soldiers took the opportunity to stop and slowly reload.

Other Fake Ming Army soldiers around them, forced by White Banner Infantryman Yu Ding, gritted their teeth and continued advancing.

Bearing the concentrated fire of firelocks and bows and crossbows, they reached before the righteous army's formation.

Greeting them were several rows of long spears.

One row thrust forward, one row gathered strength, one row withdrew their spears.

Long spears thrust out continuously in such a cycle.

The Fake Ming Army, with loose formations, had almost no power to resist.

Often one person faced several long spears thrusting in unison, dying a miserable death.

The righteous army's jumping soldiers charged forward with bent waists, hacking and smashing to reap lives.

Some Fake Ming Army soldiers couldn't bear the pressure, turned and fled, only to be hacked down by the supervising Tartars.

Liu Ze Qing's subordinates were already in utter chaos, their command system completely paralyzed.

Under the joint slaughter of the righteous army and the Tartars, they completely collapsed.

Next, it was the turn of the genuine Tartars to take the stage.

End of Chapter