Chapter 228: Charge

The Guanning Army was charging.

Dozens of warriors wearing Liao Army helmets raced ahead, three-eyed guns tucked under their arms, roaring wildly as they charged straight at the center of the formation. At thirty or forty paces, the three-eyed guns crammed with shot fired point-blank before the formation, spewing patches of smoke.

Then, like water pouring from a silver vase, they surged toward both flanks with the momentum of a hundred riders enveloping ten thousand, galloping sideways for a dozen-odd paces before wheeling their horses and returning to their own lines.

Huang Shengxiao, commander of the artillery-scout vanguard, had his helmet knocked askew by a bullet. Enraged, he hurled the helmet to the ground and, across the horizontal ranks of pikemen holding fifteen-foot lances, raised his arm and bellowed.

The infantry immediately parted at the seams, and the arquebus squads, drawn up in three ranks, stepped forward through the gaps. Facing the incoming bullets, they raised their guns on command and fired in rotation — bang, bang, bang — the sound unbroken, the shrieks of warhorses struck by shot unending.

Those Guanning cavalrymen trying to return to their own lines toppled from their horses one after another.

Then, at both corners of the Lion Battalion's formation, banners waved. The sound of iron horseshoes striking the earth drew near from afar. Arrows loosed mid-gallop pierced the gunsmoke and bit into the ground before the formation. Liao soldiers bearing throwing spears, like demons in the smoke, hurled thick-shafted javelins one after another.

The javelins, carrying immense force, flew into the formation in an instant, piercing the yellow-brown soldier's tunics inlaid with iron plates and pinning infantrymen to the ground.

Then, dozens of cavalrymen wielding sabers and spears burst from the gunsmoke, charging through twenty-odd paces straight to the front of the formation. Yet they failed to shake the infantry lines. Almost grazing the tips of the Lion Battalion's long lances, they swept past the horizontal ranks, took a mouthful of lead shot, and in the end, barely a dozen riders wheeled and fled.

Agonized cries never ceased; warhorses thrashed and collapsed.

The gunsmoke was so thick it veiled the front of the formation.

Cao Wenzhao ended his probing attack on Liu Chengzong's main formation.

Riding among the cavalry ranks, he watched the mounted units on the flank, still locked in combat with his own forces, split into five squads. Listening to the reports his vanguard subordinates brought back, he confirmed one thing.

These enemies before him not only looked like government troops — they were, in fact, government troops.

He had never feared an enemy outnumbering him. His Liao soldiers had all been born on fallen battlefields. Even if they never enlisted, living past fifteen meant each year was one more stolen from the heavens.

They were all fearless in death and fierce in battle.

Since entering Shanxi, it was not as though no bandit chieftain had ever arrayed thousands in an imposing battle line to face him.

But without exception, every one of those formations had a gap torn open at the front by a point-blank volley from the three-eyed guns, the gap then deepened through the gunsmoke by throwing spears, and finally the cavalry charged straight through the formation.

No infantry could stand steady before mounted troops, long lances in hand. One charge and they wavered; once they wavered, dozens, then hundreds of riders drove straight in, charging into the formation to slash and kill. Even thousands upon thousands would flee, trampling each other in their rout.

This was the first time since they had entered the pass that an army could withstand their frontal assault without breaking, calmly and deliberately waiting for their second attack.

Compared to that, the mounted troops split into five squads showed no intention of fighting his cavalry to the death. They merely pulled back and forth repeatedly with the Guanning horsemen, their aim being to draw them eastward along the river valley, away from the battlefield, in order to divide the forces.

If he advanced, they fled; if he retreated, they clung — slippery, impossible to pin down.

Cao Wenzhao was an old general who had risen from the lowest ranks. He had joined the Liaodong Army as far back as the Xiong Tingbi era, and through his combat merits in fierce, headlong charges against the eastern invaders in Liaodong, his front-line experience was rich, earning him promotion to Mobile Corps Commander.

So he quickly completed his assessment of the situation.

The enemy possessed a numerical advantage both in the central army as a whole and in local sectors on the outer lines. Therefore, they were in no hurry to strike, inclined instead to respond to every move until his outer-line cavalry was nibbled away and destroyed.

And when that cavalry force was annihilated, that would be the moment his calamity arrived — attacked from front and rear, total destruction.

Thus, time was already fixed. Before the mounted troops were wiped out, shaking and breaking the enemy's central formation was the key to victory in this battle.

However, because he had no experience commanding in large-scale battles against strong armies, he had become a Vice Regional Commander within a few months during the Jisi Incident and was sent into the pass to suppress the rebels.

So in his tactical choices, Cao Wenzhao still chose the tactic he knew best, was best at, and was simplest — charge.

"If charging one side won't move them, then surround them on three sides, dismount and shoot on foot, and have the mounted troops charge all at once. If charging three sides won't move them, then mass the entire army and charge one side."

Soon, the Guanning Army's second assault began.

It was still the old routine: a squad of three-eyed gun cavalry leading the charge, followed by a direct charge with throwing spears.

Standing on Red Flag's back and watching the battlefield, Liu Chengzong shook his head.

If this was all the Guanning Army knew, he did not believe he could be routed.

His strategy for this battle was to drag it out.

He did not know what the Guanning Army had encountered along the way; he only knew that their appearance here meant they had won every battle since entering the pass.

Their morale must be at its peak right now. Earlier, not knowing their true strength, he had simply arrayed his formation and waited for them to probe.

Now it seemed they were indeed extremely fierce. If he fought them to the death directly, his own losses would likely be heavy, so he had to withstand their offensive, let them be frustrated and shaken.

As the saying goes: one beat of the drum rouses the spirit, the second sees it flag, and by the third it is spent.

Wait until they were spent, then launch the counterattack.

Liu Chengzong hated the thick gunsmoke before the formation that seemed unable to disperse. Stepping on Red Flag's back, he gazed past the forest of spears and lances toward the enemy lines.

The supply corps was pushing small carts, hauling cartload after cartload of earth dug from the trenches into the formation to build an earthen mound, while using the carts to transport soldiers wounded or killed at the front to the second line of defense.

At the same time, combat troops from Zhong Hu's unit were being fed into the front line to replenish casualties.

Without the earthen mound, Liu Chengzong could only stand on Red Flag's back and barely observe the battlefield.

Not far away, on another killing ground, Yang Yao's cavalry unit, split into five squads, was locked in combat with several hundred Guanning cavalry in the broad river valley.

Sure enough, more Guanning troops were before him. Besides the several hundred riders at the front, mounted units of several hundred riders each were moving beyond firing range on both flanks, maneuvering to envelop the sides.

Behind the gunsmoke, no more than a few dozen paces away, warhorses were running to the rear. It seemed figures were using the smoke as cover in front of the formation to set up light artillery.

"Trying to blast me?"

Liu Chengzong lowered his head and said to his personal guards, "Signal the artillery-scout banner."

Cao Yao, commanding troops at the front, received a report from his subordinates. Turning his head, he saw Liu Chengzong in the central army, standing on his horse's back, arm raised and pointing toward the gunsmoke in front of the formation.

Their long cooperation had given them a tacit understanding. After a moment's thought, Cao Yao immediately grasped the intent.

Signal flags unfurled.

The four Lion cannons integrated into the formation adjusted their muzzles and erupted with flame. Boom, boom — several reports. Gunsmoke jetted from the gaps between the cannonballs' wooden sabots and the barrels, white smoke spraying from the front edge of the formation. The scattered iron shot riddled the gunsmoke with countless holes, raising puffs of bloody mist among the clusters of men and horses.

Liu Chengzong looked toward the mounted units executing the envelopment on the left and right flanks, the corner of his mouth curling in a silent laugh.

Charging from all sides at once — if Li Bei, kept under house arrest at his father's side, could see this scene, he would surely be deeply gratified and mock him for meeting his own medicine.

Liu Chengzong's gaze swept among the mounted units in the formation, finally fixing on one man's face.

"Gao Yingdeng, lead four hundred cavalry to meet the right flank."

Gao Yingdeng was perhaps the most precious talent in the Left Squad under Liu Chengzong's command. He hailed from the King's Duty Army's Ningsai Fortress unit in Yansui Garrison and served as the Left Squad's deputy commander.

Originally, the idea had been to spend a fortune on a horse's bones to win the hearts of the King's Duty Army. He had never imagined that giving Yang Yanchang two hundred warhorses would yield just this one squad of men.

A great talent. In the battle against Ningxia Regional Commander He Huchen, even Liu Chengzong had been unable to stop him from charging on horseback.

He had the honor of being the first captured officer of the Lion Battalion — and he was captured by his own men.

Because of this, Gao Yingdeng had been mocked openly and behind his back plenty. Now, hearing Liu Chengzong call on him to meet the enemy, the hairs on his face stood on end with excitement. He clasped his fists and accepted the order at once.

Immediately, four hundred cavalry filed out from the opened right wing of the formation and galloped headlong toward the incoming enemy.

As for the left wing, Liu Chengzong was not worried. The original tactic of a four-sided simultaneous collision had now been reduced to just two adjacent sides; they could hold.

Even so, he still said to the Han brothers, "Have the brothers ready. If either side can't hold, reinforce them immediately. The formation must not shift."

"Understood!"

The Han brothers had already stopped using whistling arrows. Their quivers were filled with armor-piercing arrows, and they and the personal troops stood fully equipped, awaiting battle.

The three-eyed guns opened fire beyond the range of the right-wing artillery. Both sides had nearly identical weapons, and their fighting styles were fairly similar.

The difference was that the Guanning Army had more firearms, and heavier ones at that. Although Gao Yingdeng's sortie caught them somewhat off guard, they quickly completed the shift to screen their light cannons and, after firing their three-eyed guns, entered the close-combat phase.

Gao Yingdeng's mounted troop, on the other hand, was equipped with more bows. Their projectiles lacked killing power, so they preferred skirmishing.

Though both forces originated from the Great Ming's armies, facing different hypothetical enemies had given them different traits. And at this moment, the Guanning Army's strength was hard to bring to bear — their warhorses were no good.

Yet the direction Gao Yingdeng excelled in became extremely advantageous because of the formation artillery on the flank. Although shooting arrows did little damage to heavy armor, they could keep shooting. If they couldn't wound the men, they could wound the horses.

Once they seized the initiative, they would run back toward the formation. Isolated Guanning cavalry dared not pursue, for chasing would bring concentrated fire from three-eyed guns and bird guns.

At the first clash, several riders on Gao Yingdeng's side were successively toppled by three-eyed guns. But after the first volley, many gunners, rather than circling to the rear to reload, preferred to join the melee, causing their follow-up firepower to lose steam.

In this way, Gao Yingdeng did not fall to a disadvantage.

Meanwhile, the Guanning Army on the left wing had already deployed into battle formation. At a bugle call from the front, both sides launched their assault on the Lion Battalion's formation simultaneously.

Just then, Liu Chengzong spotted a few figures to the north and could not help but break into a smile.

On the opposite riverbank were only twenty or thirty men — Dai Daozi's reconnaissance troops. He had five cavalrymen quietly wade across the Jing River, each carrying a three-eyed gun meant for signaling.

The five men crept up behind the left wing just as it was preparing to attack, then suddenly charged in. At close range, they fired off five shots with a bang and fled with their tails between their legs.

Several wounded warhorses bolted wildly through the formation, causing no small trouble for the left wing.

A moment later, they regrouped, and the two sides collided at once.

Along the edges of the formation, officers' shouts rose and fell everywhere. Rows of three-eyed guns and bird guns fired in succession, punctuated by the roar of lion cannons.

The corpses of warhorses and soldiers lay in a small ring outside the formation. Now and then, a wounded horse would struggle to its feet, but before it could take two steps, it could only let out a mournful whinny and collapse dead.

The wail of horns resounded across the battlefield. The Guanning Army on both wings was pulling back. Gao Yingdeng's mounted troop, after giving chase for a moment, also slowly withdrew from the fight.

When Gao Yingdeng rode back to his own lines, a captured Guanning soldier was slung across his horse's back by the waist, making him look as though he had won a victory.

But in truth, the two sides had fought for only a brief moment, and Gao Yingdeng's heart and liver were still trembling. These men fired three-eyed guns and bird guns from horseback.

In fact, counting the enemy riders thrown and injured when their horses were shot dead, the cavalry on both sides had only fought to a draw.

Gao Yingdeng rode over, tossed his captive to the ground, and tilted his head to look at the chunk bitten out of his iron arm guard. Still shaken, he said, "These savages — at three or five paces, they shove their guns right in your face. They really aren't afraid to die."

Liu Chengzong climbed the still-unfinished earthen mound and gazed toward the enemy lines. Even the cavalry that had been tangling with Yang Yao had returned to their formation.

He could not help but wonder: what was the enemy trying to do? Were they planning to flee as an intact unit?

He immediately dismissed the guess in his mind. The Guanning Army's warhorses were not enough to sustain a long-distance escape. They could not run.

If not to run, then it was to attack.

Liu Chengzong ordered his personal troops to pass the word: "Tell the front line to prepare their defenses. The enemy is about to launch a general assault."

A moment later, shouts of men and neighs of horses rose from the enemy formation. One cavalry unit after another charged toward the front of the formation. They were more aggressive, firing three-eyed guns and bird guns within ten paces of the formation line, launching a fierce assault on the front at any cost.

Then, at the edge of the gunpowder smoke, cavalrymen dismounted. From twenty or thirty paces away, they exchanged fire with the formation using bows, targeting only the outermost auxiliary soldiers holding long spears.

For a time, casualties on both sides surged. A Guanning soldier would draw his bow and shoot down an auxiliary soldier, only to be shot down immediately by the combat soldier behind him using a heavy bow — or even killed outright by a bird gunner.

Even as the auxiliary soldiers watched their comrades beside them fall one after another, they still dared not flee. They crouched low and held their spears in defense.

Some of the auxiliary soldiers were former border troops from Ningxia and Guyuan. Others had once served under Ascending Heaven Monkey. Those men still could not wear armor for long periods even now, but their discipline was even stronger than the border troops'.

In truth, their source of manpower was quite similar to the Guanning Army's. They had all experienced how a disorganized, incapable rabble could be slaughtered like mown grass by the enemy.

And they had also experienced how to use discipline and organization to fight a powerful foe and win.

They knew what the formation meant. Inside the formation, men would die — men with very bad luck would die. But without the formation, only men with very good luck could survive.

They stood steady at the edge of the formation with their fifteen-foot long spears, waiting for the mass of cavalry wielding blades and spears to burst out of the smoke. If they could hold just one more time, this wave of the enemy's attack would be over.

The Lion Battalion had grown used to these three axe-strokes of the Guanning Army.

But this time, the Guanning soldiers who broke through the smoke truly dared to crash straight in.

The gunpowder smoke gradually dispersed. Warhorses, lashed until they neighed without cease, were driven forward. The mounted troops with blades and spears formed a crescent-moon shape, using their weapons to drive over a hundred warhorses. Ignoring the incoming bullets and cannonballs as if they were nothing, they galloped, trampled, and shouted as they charged the Lion Battalion's main formation.

The warhorses surged like a colossal tide, sweeping in with the force of toppling mountains and overturning seas. In the vision of the combat and auxiliary soldiers on the front line, it seemed as if heaven and earth were trembling.

Cao Yao and Gao Xian both opened their eyes wide in terror and shouted. The eight lion cannons fired in unison. On the other end of the battlefield, Yang Yao likewise seemed to go mad, leading his mounted troop in a swift raid against the enemy's rear.

But no one paid him any attention.

Warhorses snapped the long spear shafts and then dropped dead. More warhorses leapt over the corpses and charged into the line. Bird gunners reversed their firearms and swung them without pause, or simply drew their blades to butcher horses at close quarters.

And behind the trampling, charging mass of horses, one cavalry unit after another charged toward the gaps in the formation. Yansui Garrison West Route Vice Commander Cao Wenzhao was at the very front, then his nephew and the other generals, and only then the common cavalrymen.

On the earthen mound, Liu Chengzong turned his head, raised his arm from back to front, and ordered the rear-line troops to press forward. He drew his goose-wing saber from the back of the Red Flag bearer, jumped down from the mound, and led the troops to steady the line. Every face bore a look of madness.

"Guanning Army — I've come to collect the debt!"