Chapter 434: The Moth and the Resolve

Under the stunned gazes of the White Armor soldiers and the front ranks of Qing troops, the Ming army's small Folangji cannons roared in succession.

Dark cannon muzzles faintly showed crimson tongues of flame licking out once, and great clouds of gunpowder smoke rose slowly, like white clouds from the blue sky drifting down to the ground.

The fan-shaped spray of grapeshot swept toward the Qing troops like a giant scythe in the hands of the Grim Reaper, wantonly reaping the lives of soldiers.

Before these pellets that were cold yet carried heat, whether you were a White Armor elite capable of facing a hundred foes and clad in three layers of heavy armor, or an ordinary banner soldier who had slaughtered countless Ming commoners, all were completely equal.

Solid shot after solid shot wove into the massed Qing formation like scissors, charging and crashing about as if entering uninhabited territory, until their kinetic energy was utterly spent and only then did their small bodies, covered in flesh and blood, come to a stop.

Almost at the same moment, the front-rank cavalry of the Mongol Bordered White Banner to the south had also charged into the firing range of the wagon camp's cannons.

Because the charging mass presented an even wider cross-section, over a hundred cannons on the left wing nearly all fired, and every one of them loosed grapeshot.

The front-rank cavalry, with their men and horses presenting even larger targets, tumbled and fell like crops beaten down by hail, while the warhorses following behind were startled by the thunderous roar of those two hundred cannons and let out one neighing cry after another.

Many warhorses, terrified out of their wits, suddenly bucked and leapt even at full gallop, their heads thrashing wildly about as if trying to shake that ear-splitting din out of their ears.

Over a dozen cavalrymen, caught completely off guard, were thrown from their panicked mounts and were instantly trampled into pulp by countless bowl-sized hooves.

By this time the horses had already reached their utmost speed. The cavalry behind heard the violent cannon fire ahead, but even if they wanted to rein their horses aside it was already too late—the warhorses continued charging to within fifty paces of the war wagons.

At this moment, the Ming artillerymen displayed to the fullest the Folangji cannon's advantage of rapid loading and firing.

Of the two loaders, one was responsible for extracting the spent cartridge chamber while the other swiftly stuffed a prepared chamber into the long empty slot and tamped down the vent seal; the gunner then quickly touched the touchhole and fired.

The three men, working in perfect coordination, completed their dazzling sequence of actions within a few breaths, making the Folangji's rate of fire far exceed that of the fire lances, while a single Folangji firing grapeshot possessed the killing power of several dozen musketeers.

This time, the two hundred-plus Folangji cannons nearly all fired off four cartridge chambers each. Apart from the rear-rank Mongol Bordered White Banner cavalry who managed to wheel their horses about and flee before reaching full speed, the Qing troops on both sides suffered devastating losses.

Of the two thousand infantry of the Two White Banners, barely eight hundred or so survived by luck, and within a hundred-plus paces of the Ming wagon camp, not a single Qing soldier remained standing.

The Qing corpses on the ground were all mutilated and incomplete; many soldiers' heads had been blown apart, so that even if recovered they would be impossible to identify.

Pools of blood soaked various human organs, red, white, black, and green interwoven, the thick stench of gore making one want to vomit.

The Ming sword-and-shield men, spearmen, and musketeers once again stepped out from the gaps between the side wagons to pursue and slaughter the fleeing soldiers of the Two White Banners.

That's right—the Eight Banner troops, who had always maintained an overwhelming advantage over the Ming army, were routed and fleeing.

Just like the Ming troops who had once fled before them across the mountains and plains, the proud Eight Banner elite had collapsed into a disorganized rabble.

The Ming infantrymen were circling around the pools of blood on the ground as they charged forward in hot pursuit.

The Mongol Bordered White Banner to the south fared no better.

Shattered remains of men and horses carpeted the ground—a scene even more miserable than that of the Two White Banners.

A rough count of the cavalry fleeing to both sides showed fewer than two thousand riders; three thousand cavalry had lost nearly half their number without even touching the edge of the Ming formation.

Just as the fighting broke out at the wagon camp, the Two White Banner soldiers locked in bloody combat with the White Pole troops also suffered unprecedented heavy losses.

The tenacious White Pole troops stubbornly held against the charge of the Qing forces led by the White Armor soldiers. Just as the two sides were deadlocked, Qing archers arrived and began forming up to loose volleys.

In an instant, countless heavy arrows flew over a distance of several dozen paces and landed among the White Pole formations. Within the blink of an eye, several hundred men across the six White Pole formations were wounded or dead, and gaps of no small size suddenly appeared in the front ranks. The front-line Qing troops seized the opportunity to press the attack, pushing forward several more paces.

Just as the situation hung by a thread, several Folangji cannons on the artillery platform loosed grapeshot.

Previously, because the White Pole formations jutted out over a hundred paces ahead, they were right within the grapeshot's firing range, while the Qing troops had adopted the tactic of clinging close to the White Pole soldiers in melee combat, making the Ming gunners dare not open fire with grapeshot.

Depressing the muzzles to fire solid shot was equally risky for hitting their own men, so the gunners could only watch helplessly as the two sides fought in bloody slaughter, utterly unable to provide any help.

The musketeers in the center also had to guard against a thrust from the Two Red Banners and could not come over to support the White Pole troops. As Qing archers came forward and shot down several hundred White Pole soldiers, the Qing infantry suddenly surged with force, shaving an entire layer off the White Pole formations.

By now, the six White Pole formations had essentially been cut down to their fourth layer.

According to their rules, once five layers had been killed through, they had to find an opportunity to withdraw—otherwise the outcome would be total annihilation.

Taking advantage of the moment when the White Pole formations had been compressed to within about sixty paces, the moment the gunners had been enduring agony to await finally arrived.

Thunderclap-like roars sounded one after another without cease. Six or seven Folangji cannons fired off two cartridge chambers in succession, sweeping down a huge swath of the several archer square formations and the Qing troops in the rear ranks, creating a massive gap between the Qing front and rear formations as well.

The two hundred grenadiers who had hurried over split into several teams and furiously hurled their Heaven-Shaking Thunder bombs.

Amid the smoke and flying earth, several hundred front-line Qing soldiers collapsed with miserable screams, while those near the blast points were stunned senseless. The desperately holding White Pole troops' courage surged greatly, and as they fought back fiercely, the Qing troops were beaten into continuous retreat.

"The wagons are all full of cannons?! Pass the order! Have the booi bondservants transport the baggage and withdraw first! After that, the entire army falls back, seeking an opportunity to return north! Inform Prince Cheng, order the Two Red Banners to cover the retreat! Inform the Two Blue Banners to withdraw north at once!"

Hearing the report of Kuleca, who had narrowly escaped with his life, Dorgon instantly made the most correct decision.

He no longer had any thought of holding Kuleca accountable for the loss of men and materiel.

This battle could not be fought any longer. If they did not retreat immediately, the Two White Banners would face a pincer attack from front and rear—and then it would no longer be merely a question of how many men and horses were lost.

The Ming army had actually concealed such a formidable ambush force within their baggage camp—a new type of army that had never appeared before, one the Qing troops could not cope with or counter for the time being.

Stringing together the several battles before and after, Dorgon suddenly understood everything completely.

From the very beginning to now, the Eight Banners had step by step fallen into the Ming army's complete trap.

Whether the baggage camp truly held mountain-like stores of supplies was still unclear, but the Ming army had clearly long since guessed the Eight Banners' strategy of seeking quick success, and so had used the baggage camp as bait, luring the Eight Banners to split their forces and thrust forward, then unleashing their killer move at the critical moment, preparing to swallow the Eight Banner elite in one gulp.

The front-line Qing troops, who were being steadily driven back by the White Pole soldiers, received the order to retreat. Summoning their remaining courage, they surged forward for a brief burst, suppressing the momentum of the White Pole counterattack, then turned and withdrew without the slightest hesitation.

The White Pole troops, having suffered grievous losses, were likewise too spent to fight on and could only watch helplessly as the Qing forces withdrew northward under the pursuing fire of the Folangji cannons.

The booi bondservants in the rear formation, upon receiving the order, frantically pushed carts and shouldered loads, carrying the Qing army's grain and baggage in a desperate flight northward.

Yoto, who had already received Dorgon's message, was also greatly alarmed. He immediately ordered a halt to the attack that was about to be launched again, assigned a Meiren janggin to lead four thousand infantry and one thousand archers to hold the line, and had the remainder begin retreating toward the main camp to the northeast.

The Two Blue Banners, after suffering the alternating battering of Heaven-Shaking Thunders and Folangji cannons, also withdrew northward under the cover of the two thousand Mongol Eight Banner cavalry led by Abatai, who had not participated in the fighting.

On the other side, the thousand-plus cavalry routed by the wagon camp fled far away to the north from the east.

"Your subordinate pays respects to Grand Secretary Sun and Lady Qin! Your subordinate requests the order to lead troops in pursuit of the Jianzhou barbarians! I beg Grand Secretary Sun to issue the command!"

Having received no order to pursue, Sun Yingyuan came forward to pay his respects to Sun Chuanting and Qin Liangyu, inquiring about the next phase of battle deployment.