Chapter 33: Full-Army Exercise

On the cavalry training ground of the Yongwei Camp, the earth shook and dust billowed as a thousand cavalrymen in iron helmets and red armor drilled relentlessly in charges and flanking maneuvers.

In the distance stood a field of straw "enemies," each draped in leather armor with a round wooden shield painted with facial features mounted on a handle for a face. The thousand-strong cavalry of the Yongwei Camp launched their assault against the "enemies" in the center using tactics of frontal attack and pincer movements from both wings.

At two hundred paces from the enemy, the Yongwei Camp cavalrymen leaned down in unison, drew flintlock muskets from the gun holsters on their horses' flanks, and took aim at the ever-closer "enemies," firing away. For a time, gunfire crackled without cease and smoke billowed up continuously.

After firing a single shot, they did not reload but returned the muskets to their places, seized the lances from the holsters on the other side, and launched the final charge at their targets.

When they closed with the targets, the thousand cavalrymen thrust their lances at the vital points on the straw men, with the neck as the optimal target.

Nearly every battle-hardened soldier of the Jianzhou barbarians' Eight Banners wore armor—some even triple-layered heavy armor—making it difficult to pierce with a lance even at high-speed impact. Only thrusting at the weakest point, the neck, was the most effective method of kill-training.

On a high platform two hundred meters from the cavalry training ground, Zhu Cilang, surrounded by the assembled officers of the Yongwei Camp and holding a telescope to watch the cavalry drills, could not help but remark:

"Not bad! But training must still be intensified. The Jianzhou barbarians' cavalry is formidable indeed—especially the Yehe tribe's horsemen. Even the Mongol cavalry is no match for them."

Lu Jiude said: "Part of the cavalry in our Yongwei Camp consists of the Guanning Iron Cavalry formerly under Regional Commander Cao Wenzhao. Last year, when Commandant Cao fell in battle at Luochuan Town, some of his scattered Guanning Iron Cavalry were gathered into the Yongwei Camp by Commander Cao. Though only two or three hundred men, every one of them is a veteran of countless battles."

Zhu Cilang nodded, feeling some regret inwardly. Cao Wenzhao could be called the foremost fierce general of the late Ming. In his day, leading two to three thousand Guanning Iron Cavalry, he had sent tens of thousands of roving bandits fleeing for dozens of li, too terrified to turn back and fight.

Even when he blundered into a bandit encirclement, Cao Wenzhao showed not the slightest fear. Lance in hand, he charged left and broke right, a single rider amid ten thousand foes as though entering uninhabited ground. Before his overwhelming might, the bandit ambushers lay strewn across the fields. It could be said that wherever Cao Wenzhao went, the roving bandits dared not give battle and scattered in flight instead.

Zhu Cilang had originally wanted to bring this fierce general into his own fold, but alas, he had been a step too late in time—Cao Wenzhao had been betrayed by one of his own low-ranking soldiers last year and tragically killed in battle.

Shaking off his thoughts, Zhu Cilang then proceeded to the artillery training ground to inspect the gunners' live-fire exercise.

The Yongwei Camp's artillery numbered four hundred men, equipped with ten six-pound red barbarian cannons, fifteen three-pound red barbarian cannons, and one Divine Might Great General cannon weighing five thousand jin. In addition, there were several dozen franks of large, medium, and small sizes, along with several dozen tiger-crouch cannons and other artillery pieces.

Zhu Cilang understood deeply the role of artillery in this era, and so he had expanded the artillery battalion. The Yongwei Camp's abundance of firearms and cannons and the fineness of its equipment were in no way inferior to the Divine Engine Camp, famed for its firearms.

At this moment, nearly a hundred cannons of all sizes were arrayed in a single line, their pitch-black muzzles aimed at distant targets. With the Crown Prince personally inspecting the artillery, the Yongwei Camp's chief artillery commander was stirred with excitement and immediately began directing his gunners with renewed vigor.

"Prepare!"

At the command, the spotters, aimers, loaders, and ammunition handlers beside each cannon sprang into action, calmly adjusting ranges and loading ammunition in an orderly fashion.

"Ready to fire!" The squad leaders before each cannon called out one after another.

"Fire!"

With a thunderous roar of cannon fire, fierce flames burst from each muzzle, and a great volley of shells screamed toward the targets ahead, each target shattering with a bang.

"Swab the barrels!"

After the cannons had fired, one of the loaders immediately grabbed a swab to clean the powder residue from the bore, another loader packed in the gunpowder, a third loaded the shell, the gunner took aim and measured the range, and the squad leader directed the firing.

The gun crew beside one cannon worked with unhurried composure and swift motions, drawing a silent nod of approval from Zhu Cilang. A force like this was what truly counted as the Ming's ace in the hole. At this moment he felt even more confident in leading the Yongwei Camp to gallop across the realm.

Afterwards, Zhu Cilang rode with his entourage to the infantry training ground, where Huang Degong immediately came forward and announced in a clear voice: "Your Highness, the infantry is fully prepared and may be reviewed at any time."

Zhu Cilang nodded and said: "First, form the infantry squares."

He wanted to see the Yongwei Camp march in formation—formation marching was the best way to reinforce discipline and obedience among the soldiers, and it also gave a direct view of an army's level of discipline.

Apart from the thousand cavalrymen and four hundred artillerymen, the Yongwei Camp's thirty-six hundred infantry formed into squares one after another under the command of Huang Degong's signal flags.

Every one of them wore iron armor and was fully armed, yet as they marched at a run in formation, not the slightest disorder appeared—only the sound of perfectly synchronized footfalls could be heard.

After a single drumbeat, these thirty-six hundred men divided into six squares: one shield-bearer square, one pike square, and four musket squares.

Each neat square seemed measured out with a ruler; all the soldiers stood ramrod straight, pikes and muskets held at the ready, not one of them moving so much as a hair.

This stern martial bearing filled the very air with a killing atmosphere. Even Zhu Cilang, who had seen such squares countless times in the armies of his later life, felt a pressure bearing down on him now.

The square formed by soldiers in iron armor bearing weapons struck him with a far stronger impact than those of the later age.

In particular, his warhorse beneath him, unaccustomed to the spectacle before it, grew somewhat restless. Sun Yingyuan at his side saw this and promptly dismounted to steady Zhu Cilang's mount.

Zhu Cilang leaned down and patted his fine steed a few times, then said: "Assistant Regional Commander Huang, Assistant Regional Commander Sun, the two of you have not disappointed this prince's expectations. You have done very well."

That Sun Yingyuan, assisting Huang Degong, had managed to drill the Yongwei Camp's fighting spirit into shape in less than a month filled Zhu Cilang with great satisfaction.

"We thank Your Highness for the praise!" The two men clasped their fists and bowed.

Huang Degong himself was also filled with emotion. Compared to the Yongwei Camp of before, the present Yongwei Camp had undergone earth-shaking changes. This was what true elites looked like—setting aside everything else, this very aura alone was enough to scare off no small number of enemies.

Zhu Cilang rode forward and drew the treasured sword at his waist, pointing it skyward at an angle.

The officers in the front ranks likewise drew their sabers, gleaming coldly in the light as they pointed them skyward at an angle, and shouted in unison: "Ten thousand victories to the Great Ming!"

The six squares produced a rustling sound as muskets were raised in unison, every soldier's movement perfectly synchronized as if completed at the same instant. Then a single cry rang out: "Victory!"

All the soldiers wore iron armor and identical eight-lobed pointed iron helmets, their eyes blazing as they fixed their gaze upon him.

Amid the wave upon wave of earth-shaking shouts, Zhu Cilang, mounted on his horse, had to display a confident and charming smile even as tremendous pressure weighed on his heart at this moment.

Originally, given the protagonist's status as the Crown Prince, a successful manager by rights should never need to handle everything personally. But fearing that in the later battle sections the Yongwei Camp might display off-the-charts combat power and some might find the power-up unreasonable, I added a few chapters of training scenes.