Chapter 249: Section Three: Cavalry Battle

Since landing on the island, Huang Shi had already requisitioned some horses. Before setting out, he had also rushed to Adjutant Yao's camp and commandeered a batch of warhorses, politely declining Adjutant Yao's kind offer of troops. When he left Juehua, Huang Shi handed unified command authority to Zhao Yingong, instructing him to prepare to receive the wounded. In addition, Huang Shi also told Zhao Yingong to ready manpower to assist in defending the field fortifications. Although the likelihood of things deteriorating to that point was very small, it could not be left unguarded against.

Behind him were the orderlies bearing his banner. The hundred-plus cavalrymen under Huang Shi's command spread out in a single line, forming a long snake formation with him at the center. They followed behind Huang Shi, slowly urging their mounts forward, maintaining this formation throughout the process of accelerating, charging straight toward a unit of Later Jin cavalry in the distance.

"Hong Antong." Huang Shi called out without turning his head.

"Your subordinate is here." The captain of the inner guard, following close behind Huang Shi, immediately responded in a deep voice.

"Zhang Minghe."

"Your humble officer is here, right behind you, my lord." The commander of the Vanguard Battalion held his cavalry lance steady with one hand and also shouted a vigorous, spirited cry.

The Ming army troops who had fled to beneath Ningyuan's walls were mostly cavalry. As they circled the city, they desperately shouted for the gates to be opened. The pursuing Later Jin cavalry did not appear to be numerous, and their formation had scattered into disarray, completely unprepared for battle. They pursued in this chaotic manner, and it was only when the cavalry from Changsheng Island charged up close that anyone noticed them.

Huang Shi kept his elbow tightly locked, his right arm and the long sword forming a straight line, pointing rigidly forward. His mount beneath him had worked up its enthusiasm, the wind howling past both sides of his helmet, blending into a single roar with the dense thunder of hoofbeats. The small number of enemy troops ahead seemed somewhat hesitant and uncertain, but many of the Later Jin cavalrymen still slowly gathered together, abandoning the pursuit and spreading out into formation, seemingly intent on charging head-on against the Ming army.

"The Jianzhou Jurchens are too late — they reacted too slowly!" Huang Shi made his judgment of the opponent in his mind. He clamped his legs against the horse's flanks again, and the spurred warhorse strained every ounce of its strength to charge forward. Zhang Minghe, Hong Antong, and the other officers also followed close behind Huang Shi, kicking hard at their mounts, each of them jutting out at least a full horse-length ahead of the ordinary inner guard soldiers.

The Later Jin troops arrayed in formation opposite them saw that the Ming army was already bearing down with a roar and seemed to realize there was no more time to assemble. They began to accelerate in the opposite direction, face to face, all brandishing their blades at the Ming army. The wind roared louder in his ears. Huang Shi loved this sensation of the charge. Staring at the enemy troops closing in relentlessly, he shouted again without shifting his gaze: "Hong Antong, Zhang Minghe — charge!"

"Your subordinate obeys, my lord."

"Your humble officer obeys, my lord."

Replies rang out almost simultaneously from behind on the left and right. Huang Shi casually lowered his face mask, and then heard two more great shouts ring out, one after the other: "Kill the Jianzhou Jurchens!"

"Kill the Jianzhou Jurchens!"

After shouting, the two men also lowered the masks on their helmets. The answering cry spread rapidly across the entire Ming battle line. Every soldier of the Dongjiang Army used every last ounce of strength to roar: "Kill the Jianzhou Jurchens!" Then they dropped their own masks and, following close behind the officers before them, charged at the enemy.

Huang Shi, charging at the very front, gripped his sword hilt tightly, his upper arm perpendicular to the horizontal plane. His elbow tip brushed his helmet, pointing toward the heavens. He drew his upper arm back with force, preparing to deliver a full-power slash.

The standard-issue cavalry equipment on Changsheng Island was the one-handed saber. Apart from Zhang Minghe, who wielded a cavalry lance, and his cavalrymen, every officer and soldier of Changsheng Island behind Huang Shi made the exact same motion as him. This cavalry technique had also been recommended by He Dingyuan. Although thrusting was the most lethal method, He Dingyuan believed it was very difficult to execute this action accurately on fast-moving warhorses crossing each other.

In past drills on Changsheng Island, even He Dingyuan himself could not land a precise thrust against a person more than four times out of ten, so he vigorously advocated that the saber slash was the decisive weapon in cavalry clashes. He Dingyuan believed the hit rate of a saber slash was at least three or four times higher than a spear thrust — at the very least, he himself almost never missed. Moreover, relying on the force generated at the moment the horses crossed, a saber slash also possessed the power to kill or maim, at minimum rendering an opponent instantly incapable of fighting. Therefore, rather than pursuing the goal of running a man through with a spear, it was far more practical to use a saber slash.

He Dingyuan's assessment roughly matched the statistical data from Changsheng Island. For most cavalrymen in high-speed motion, the hit rate of a saber slash was more than triple that of a spear thrust. Another drawback of using the spear was that the officers and soldiers of Changsheng Island, who had relatively little real combat experience, were likely, when facing a life-or-death test, to lose their nerve more easily than the Later Jin troops and thrust their spears prematurely and rashly, which would further reduce the already low weapon hit rate of the Changsheng Island cavalry.

And Huang Shi's military doctrine was to train large numbers of cheap, sustainably expendable soldiers, not a small number of elite warriors of astonishing skill. Since even He Dingyuan's thrust hit rate could not reach forty percent, Huang Shi set the training target for Changsheng Island cavalry at a saber-slash hit rate of around fifty percent. That way, as long as the enemy's army was not entirely composed of fierce generals of He Dingyuan's caliber, Changsheng Island's exchange ratio would not be too unfavorable. And if the enemy were all warriors of He Dingyuan's caliber... well, even if the exchange ratio was unfavorable, what loss would there really be?

The bigger problem was that the hit rate for thrusting at warhorses with a spear was relatively high, but that was not to be feared either. As long as the opponent did not thrust at the rider, the cavalryman would have one chance to slash at his head — no matter how you calculated it, it was not a losing deal. In normal times, Huang Shi often rode his horse on the training ground and slashed at the heads of straw dummies. Although he did not train as hard as the ordinary soldiers,

after all this time, Huang Shi was confident that his hit rate for slashing at a man's skull from horseback was, if not fifty percent, then at least forty percent.

The two cavalry lines approached each other at flying speed. The enemy soldiers opposite wielded weapons of their own choosing. Huang Shi, charging at the very front, held his breath and stared fixedly at the cavalry spear in his opponent's hand. Closer, ever closer — then the spear tip flashed, thrusting straight at his chest long before Huang Shi had a chance to swing his blade. Huang Shi leaned to the outside, dodging the strike, then let out a great roar and swung his sword in the same motion. But as the cavalry spear scraped past his chest, the distance between him and his opponent was too great. Huang Shi's long sword traced a futile great arc through the air.

"Unsatisfying. Truly unsatisfying." Huang Shi furiously yanked the reins, bringing his warhorse from a full gallop to a rapid deceleration with a neigh. That full-force, roundhouse slash that had met only empty air left his chest surging with blood and qi, his arm feeling hollow, as if it had nearly been wrenched from its socket. As he wheeled his horse around, he called out urgently: "Turn around, turn around quickly!" and at the same time accelerated again, charging at the enemy.

The cavalrymen around Huang Shi also wheeled their horses and followed. A few officers and soldiers whose weapons had been knocked from their hands drew their spare sabers and, once again roaring battle cries, swung their blades behind their heads. The clash just now had unhorsed around ten Dongjiang officers and soldiers, but twenty to thirty percent of the sixty-odd opponents had also fallen from their horses. Some of those thrown to the ground, both Ming and Later Jin, had already scrambled to their feet and begun fighting with their backup weapons.

Huang Shi urged his mount beneath him with desperate kicks to accelerate. In a cavalry charge, whoever was slower was more likely to be struck — he understood this principle, and the enemy troops opposite understood it too. The forty-odd remaining Later Jin cavalrymen had also turned around and were bravely riding back to meet the numerically superior Ming army.

As Huang Shi spurred his horse to meet the charge, he slashed his sword through the empty air a few times, signaling the troops behind him to form a double-layer formation. Now he deeply appreciated that, compared to straw dummies stuck motionless in the ground, mounted enemies were somewhat harder to slash. Kicking his horse's flanks desperately several times, Huang Shi swung his right arm and long sword in several great circles through the air before drawing it back behind his head. This time, as he locked his gaze on the enemy soldier opposite, Huang Shi even forgot to check whether his subordinates had kept up in time.

It was that same enemy soldier opposite him again. Huang Shi's eyes locked onto the faintly quivering spear tip, his upper body maintaining a completely motionless posture. Holding the sword or saber in a power-storing position behind the head was also one of the standardized cavalry techniques of Changsheng Island. Originally, He Dingyuan had advocated not adhering to any fixed pattern — whatever felt natural was best — but Huang Shi disagreed, because he did not have enough time to train the cavalry.

Therefore, after every training session or military exercise on Changsheng Island, the results were meticulously recorded, and the hit rates of various postures were statistically analyzed. In the end, it was discovered that, for the current average skill level on Changsheng Island, this posture yielded the highest hit rate in live-opponent training. At first, Huang Shi and the staff officers could not figure out why this motion was so effective, but they still ordered it to be promoted. Later, after more military exercises were conducted, Huang Shi and the others discovered the reason: because this way, the cavalryman had no opportunity to use his saber to parry the opponent's attack. Otherwise, when facing an incoming spear, regardless of whether he would actually be struck, the rider always instinctively wanted to parry with his saber, thereby reducing his offensive effectiveness.

"Our tactical methods on Changsheng Island have always emphasized a spirit of bravery and offensive doctrine. No matter the branch of service, all must possess the resolve to stake everything on a close-quarters attack. This mode of combat, which balances ferocity and precision, is the combat model we most revere..." Huang Shi silently recited these words in his heart. This time, the cavalry spear opposite him did not move, and Huang Shi did not dodge either... Soon, soon he could swing his blade... Finally, in that instant, the spear tip suddenly jolted and thrust toward him with incredible speed.

By now, Huang Shi's gaze had already begun to shift upward. Relying purely on instinct, he dodged. In that split second before the two riders crossed stirrups, Huang Shi swung his long sword with all his might. This time, the two were very close. The flash of the sword enveloped the Later Jin soldier's helmet. The Later Jin soldier no longer had time to retract his cavalry spear, so he desperately lunged forward, pressing himself flat.

The two horses crossed in a flash. Huang Shi saw his long sword graze the opponent's helmet, and then a heavy, sticky resistance transmitted through his hand. The momentum of the charging horse nearly tore the sword from his grip. "Good!" Huang Shi shouted. After the horses had passed, as he hauled on the reins, he held the long sword vertically before his eyes, squinting as he watched drops of fresh blood roll down from it.

"Thrilling, thrilling. Truly satisfying." The bloodstains on the blade made Huang Shi burst into loud laughter. In those two moments just now when he had brushed past the god of death, he had felt a chill in his heart, and every hair on his body had stood on end from tension. Now, after his sword had struck its target, a sense of relief washed over his chest, as exhilarating as a drowning man suddenly gasping a great breath of air.

Early this morning, upon learning that the Guan-Ning Army had caused trouble again, after his initial shock, Huang Shi discovered that deep down in his heart, there was actually a faint, hidden delight. Ever since coming to Juehua Island, although Huang Shi had repeatedly swallowed his pride for the sake of the greater good, that absolutely did not mean he was satisfied playing this kind of role. From the standpoint of Changsheng Island's interests, Huang Shi did not wish for anything to happen to these generals whom he had spent so much effort to maintain ties with. But emotionally, Huang Shi very much wished that these few blockheads would make fools of themselves and lose face.

And then there was yesterday: a little woman he had saved twice had given him attitude, and on top of that, his own guard officer had brandished the banner of righteous principle to antagonize him. Huang Shi did not consider himself a scoundrel; he had no intention of quibbling with a little woman. His guard officer was loyal

and devoted; for public and private reasons alike, he could not make trouble for Hong Antong either. So he had forcibly suppressed his anger. Just now, when Huang Shi saw the Later Jin army's formation in disarray outside Ningyuan, the excitement in his heart truly defied description — At last, he had found a bunch of bastards he could beat to vent his rage. I will definitely pound you all to a pulp!

After reining in his horse, Huang Shi flicked the blood from his long sword and abruptly wheeled around. This time, around ten more Ming soldiers had fallen from their horses, but more than half of the Later Jin troops had been knocked off theirs. In this second clash, the Ming army, relying on superior numbers, had formed a two-layer arrangement. After engaging the first row, the Later Jin troops had no time to adjust their posture before facing the second wave of sabers. The Ming cavalrymen in the rear row, not only able to attack with full force because they had no need to guard against counterattacks from the Later Jin troops, also enjoyed a higher hit rate because most of the Later Jin troops were in a state where their old strength was spent.

Of those sixty-odd Later Jin cavalrymen, fewer than twenty now remained. This time, they did not turn around but abandoned their fallen comrades and fled the battlefield at top speed. Huang Shi led the remaining cavalry back into motion. As they swept past a cluster of men fighting on the ground, Huang Shi casually executed a straight downward slash, as simple as slashing at a straw dummy on any other day. The long sword in his hand struck the back of a Later Jin soldier's head who had his back to him. After the horse charged past, Huang Shi drew his long sword back before his chest to inspect the result. This time, the blade was stained not only with fresh blood but also with some milky-white fluid.

The dozen or so Later Jin survivors fled without looking back, disappearing into the dust. Those still on the ground were slaughtered to the last man by the Ming army in the blink of an eye. Huang Shi's guard captured many riderless horses. Some of the Ming officers and soldiers had fallen because their horses were injured; a few of them had suffered no significant wounds and, taking the reins of warhorses from their comrades, rejoined the unit.

"Lord Huang! Lord Huang!"

After this unit of Later Jin troops fled, Huang Shi immediately heard a clamor of shouts coming from the distance. Then a large group of Ming soldiers surged toward his banner. The general at their head had disheveled hair and a bedraggled appearance, yet his mouth still shouted: "Lord Huang, for the grace of saving my life, this lowly general will never forget it as long as he lives!"

Hearing this, Huang Shi fixed his gaze and looked closely. Who could it be but Jin Guan? Before today, Adjutant Jin had been on the battlefield a total of two times. The first was the Battle of Yaozhou, where he, together with Zhou Shoulian and Yao Yuxian, had abandoned Li Chengxian and Lu Zhijia and fled. The second was the last battle at Juehua. After carefully observing Huang Shi's performance in that battle, he felt the Dongjiang Army was nothing special. Oboi and his group had painstakingly climbed the cliffs for a long time without causing any stir before being effortlessly killed by Adjutant Jin, which further convinced him that he had previously overestimated the Jianzhou Jurchens.

When the few of them discussed matters privately yesterday, they figured that since none of them were officials below the fifth rank, Huang Shi basically had no recourse against them. Even if Huang Shi insisted on impeaching them, as long as they could win a battle before that happened, everything would be settled. So they devised a plan to trick the Dongjiang Army out of their firelocks.

After getting Zhang Minghe drunk and tricking him out of his firelocks, Adjutant Jin and the others reasoned that if Huang Shi could fight seven banners plus the Mongols with just over a thousand firelocks, then their three hundred firelocks plus their own several thousand three-eyed guns should have no problem dealing with some rearguard Later Jin troops. Today, they had originally planned to imitate Huang Shi's method from that day: using volley fire from firelocks to startle the horses, then firing wildly to blast the Later Jin army into slag.

They were indeed fortunate, encountering only one banner. This excellent start made Adjutant Jin and his group very happy. But misfortune followed right on its heels. Who knows which cur fired a shot the moment he saw the Later Jin troops approaching? Immediately after, the entire army, as if a nest had exploded, discharged every single firelock they had. The borrowed firelocks, due to issues with loading the powder, did not seem to have fully realized their power, and it appeared some had even used them as oversized blunderbusses, stuffing them with numerous small pellets.

As a result, before the gunpowder smoke from the firelocks had even cleared, the Later Jin cavalry were already upon them. Adjutant Jin was defeated in a daze, and by the time his mind cleared somewhat, he found himself already circling around Ningyuan Fort.

Huang Shi gave Jin Guan a slight smile. "General Jin, are you all right? Have you been wounded?"

"No, no. Many thanks for Lord Huang's concern. This lowly general is perfectly fine." These words were not mere pleasantries. Jin Guan had been feeling very unwell these past days, but with great merit right before his eyes, he had been pushing himself to the limit. Today, before setting out with his allied troops, his physical discomfort had nearly caused him to collapse several times. But unexpectedly, after circling Ningyuan Fort twice, drenched in sweat from fright and shock, all of Jin Guan's aches and pains had vanished without a trace. Now he felt as if he were twenty years younger.

"Adjutant Hu is still up ahead!" Jin Guan still had nearly a thousand cavalrymen who had fled alongside him, but halfway through the escape, Hu Yining had disappeared.

A small number of Later Jin warriors had died on the spot in battle. All forty-two Later Jin soldiers who had fallen from their horses ultimately became corpses. The Ming army had lost only eight men dead. Eleven severely wounded men who had lost combat capability were also helped onto horses. Huang Shi told Jin Guan to send some men to escort them back to Juehua.

"No problem. Leave it to this lowly general. Lord Huang, you can set your mind at ease!"

As Jin Guan thumped his chest with enough force to shake the heavens, the Later Jin cavalry that had been pursuing them closely assembled on a nearby hill. Jin Guan let out a heavy, contemptuous snort, spurred his horse to gallop before Huang Shi, and, shaking his fist toward the hill where the Later Jin troops stood, bellowed:

"Jianzhou Jurchens! Have you come to throw your lives away?"