Chapter 757: Striking

Where the First Brigade's main-force cavalry of the Marshal's Army struck, Ma Guangyuan's Han Banner line shattered in its wake.

That also cost the Mongol Banner, already deep in combat with the Liaoyang Battalion inside the Imperial Clan Camp's formation, its flank support, and their assault promptly collapsed.

Yue Tuo, on horseback, gripped the handle of his goose-wing saber, watching with his own eyes as the front line was smashed apart by the iron cavalry.

In his palm was the Sacred Khan's handwritten order just delivered by a messenger: "If the red banner does not advance, prepare to withdraw."

Hong Taiji was going mad.

This battle was unwinnable.

Every ruthless, inhuman tactic he prided himself on proved useless against Liu Chengzong, who was even more inhuman.

The Eight Banners' way of war prized numbers, speed, ferocity, and ruthlessness.

Truth be told, their tactics, techniques, and equipment differed little from the Ming army's, but with greater speed, more line-holding troops, superior armored strength in local sectors, the Han and Mongol armies delivering the fiercest blows, and the Eight Banners' elite launching the most ruthless assault, they would shatter the enemy in one stroke.

For the Eight Banner army, this battle was inherently flawed — without Ajige's twenty-thousand-strong armored corps, the Chongde Emperor had no real confidence to rampage across the battlefield.

He could treat the Han Banner and Mongol Banner as expendable, throwing them in to grind the enemy down.

But Liu Chengzong was even more inhuman!

Khoshut cavalry traded their long lances for the lives of White Armor elite riders — even three for one was a disastrous loss for the Eight Banners.

The Mongol elite cavalry trampled the lines as if pumped full of chicken blood, driven in no small part by national hatred and family vengeance.

The Ming imperial relatives, even more bluntly, became human shields for the bandit Liu, driving war chariots to the front line, wielding short guns and long cannons without even wearing armor.

Facing a chariot line crawling with python robes, even if you broke through, the army could hardly draw any morale boost from defeating a strong foe; instead, charging once and failing to breach it would inflict massive psychological trauma.

Hong Taiji still had not figured out what exactly was mounted on those war chariots flaunting all manner of princely banners at the front.

Had Liu Chengzong really enfeoffed that many kings?

Or were they truly the Ming's Shaanxi imperial clan?

The question was, how could your Ming imperial clan willingly serve Liu Cheng... No, the very fact that Liu Chengzong had specially formed such a battalion was just insane.

What's more, the instant the front-line chariot formation was breached, Hong Taiji clearly saw his bodyguard cavalry scout observing the front, standing on horseback with a telescope, freeze like an idiot.

The bodyguard stammered; when asked what he had seen, he was so terrified he dropped to his knees. Only after being pressed repeatedly did he speak: "The enemy... reporting to the Sacred Khan, the enemy is driving White Armor soldiers to fight to the death for them inside the formation."

Hong Taiji did not believe it and roared: "Those western bandits also need to tell friend from foe against the Ming army — why couldn't they be wearing captured Ming armor?"

"Sacred Khan, they... they've all been shaved bald, with red silk tied around their heads."

The Chongde Emperor's blood pressure instantly spiked to the limit.

Since the old Khan raised his army against the Ming, they had driven Han Chinese against Ming armies for twenty years — today, he too tasted that bitter draught.

Precisely because Hong Taiji was all too familiar with such tactics, he could see with perfect clarity the outcome of continuing this battle.

He might win.

No — at best, he and Liu Chengzong would both claim victory.

Because Liu Chengzong, merely by standing on this battlefield, was already in an undefeatable position.

Just as he himself had done in the Jisi year, breaking through from Ji Garrison into Yongping Prefecture — he only needed to prove he could bypass the Guan-Ning line, strike the heartland, and leave alive; whatever losses the army suffered in the process did not matter.

The later detour to attack Shanxi was the same — what did it matter how many more Eight Banners died?

What the Later Jin needed most, because the Guan-Ning line was too formidable, was to prove to the Ming that the Guan-Ning line was useless.

Once that was proven, the strategic victory was won.

Conversely, it was the same now — even if he routed Liu Chengzong, what of it?

The Han Banner against Liu Chengzong's Ming imperial clan, the Mongol Banner against Liu Chengzong's Mongol elite cavalry, the Eight Banners against Liu Chengzong's red-armored troops.

Liu Chengzong's posture made it plain he dared to commit his red-armored troops to the contest.

Did Hong Taiji dare commit the Eight Banners?

Before truly crossing swords with Liu Chengzong, Hong Taiji would have dared.

But after the real clash, with the Marshal's Army shattering the Plain Blue, Bordered White, Han, and Mongol Banners in the blink of an eye, he no longer dared.

The cost of fighting to the bitter end was too great.

So great that the Chongde Emperor could not bear it.

But often, starting a war is easy — it only takes one person wanting to fight.

Stopping a war, however, requires the consent of both sides.

Just as now, enduring a killing headache, Hong Taiji ordered the barely extended wings to pull back, while providing a show of force to support the front and right-wing formations already engaged with the Marshal's Army, commanding them to withdraw.

But things went against his wishes.

On the right wing, the Bordered Blue Manchu and Mongol forces fighting Tang Tong's and Zuo Guangxian's battalions of the Marshal's Army didn't even need his order — their assault had been smashed by a counter-charge, and now they couldn't withdraw even if they wanted to; they were practically glued in place.

They had charged into the formation, broken through the line of Western-style firearms troops, only to be hammered by the Han troops inside and pushed back out by cannon fire.

That forced the Bordered Blue Manchu to advance and cover them.

By all logic, once driven out, they should have fled — but they couldn't outrun the bullets.

No cavalry was even needed; the heavy muskets, with their two-hundred-pace kill-zone, simply wouldn't let them run. Watching comrades cut down by gunfire, they could only turn back and charge again.

After all, in melee with the Marshal's Army, relying on their armor, they were still hard to kill — but fleeing, they were certain to be shot dead by those enemy overseer squads wielding heavy muskets!

The Bordered Blue Banner looked exactly like the Liaodong detachment of Zhang Yichuan's Henan Five Battalions — their routing troops' counter-charge drill against the blade array was practiced better than the direct disciples'.

And indeed, Tang Tong's firearms troops had never imagined the Eight Banners could be this feral: routed in close combat, they fled, but torn apart by firearms, they actually rallied and counter-charged. That second charge nearly broke Tang Tong's formation for real.

Because the Bordered Yellow Banner's cavalry was also nearing the battlefield by then, while their own central Mongol cavalry was pulling back to regroup — for a moment, that put immense pressure on Tang Tong's reinforcement battalion.

The heavy-musket chariots at the two flank corners of the reinforcement battalion couldn't be packed up in time, and many were abandoned. Only then, amid the melee, did they shift formation, setting up a small four-sided camp with two companies of Han troops outside and Western firearms troops inside, anchored against the chariots to meet the charge.

By the time the Chongde Emperor's messenger reached the right wing, he could only shout to halt the Bordered Yellow infantry and artillery, who were already accelerating their advance; the cavalry, however, could neither be called back nor stopped.

Some of them were circling Tang Tong's square camp, firing from all sides, while others had joined the Bordered Blue cavalry in a life-or-death struggle with Zuo Guangxian's horsemen.

The messenger took three arrows before even getting close. It would have been better if he hadn't blown the Mongol horn signaling retreat.

Some unlucky Eight Banner cavalrymen got hooked by the Mongol riders' hook-sickle lances, only to be chased down and skewered by a single thrust from the Khoshut cavalry behind them.

But when Zuo Guangxian's cavalry were caught, it was the same story — either they were shot off their horses by heavy arrows from large-tipped bows, or they were knocked from the saddle in close combat.

Though the two sides fought scattered across the field, they still appeared evenly matched.

The moment the Mongol horn sounded, the battlefield situation shifted at once. The Eight Banners cavalry in the melee began to lose heart, which in turn sent the First Tourism Barracks cavalry's morale soaring, and the Khoshut riders started chasing and jabbing at them in disarray.

Some riders even broke all three of their lances — one long, two short — dismounted, picked up fallen Eight Banners goose-quill sabers, and stood on their horses with feet braced in the stirrups, leaning forward to stab anyone within reach.

Yet even luck refused to side with Hong Taiji.

When Daicing's army received the order to converge on the central force, on the right wing, barely a quarter of the Bordered Yellow foot artillery pulled back — and on the left wing, the various battalions could not pull back either.

The Plain Yellow, Guard, and Vanguard three battalions at the far end of the left wing moved toward the center, but just as Geng Zhongming's three thousand Heaven-Blessed Army troops ahead of them began to withdraw, Subadi's Mobei cavalry clung right to them.

As Hong Taiji shifted troops toward the center, no one was more thrilled than Subadi.

He had not actually detected any sign that Daicing was withdrawing; he simply saw that the Heaven-Blessed Army was finally moving.

Geng Zhongming's men had too many firearms and cannons — Subadi's Mobei cavalry could do nothing about them.

A firearms formation is easily shaken when rammed — but that depends on who is doing the ramming.

For a force with at least some field fortifications, or at the very least a few war wagons and some armored troops, striking a firearms formation yields rewards that at least outweigh the cost.

But if Subadi's light cavalry rammed into Geng Zhongming's muskets and cannons, all they would yield was a field of cost.

Now that the Heaven-Blessed Army was moving, it exposed the Mongol troops of Daicing's second line behind them on the left wing.

Earlier, while Hong Taiji was adjusting his formation, the Taiji Babu in Subadi's ranks had caught a glimpse of that Mongol force's banner.

Babu of the Chechen Khanate was the man in the entire Marshal's headquarters army most familiar with Daicing, and he guessed that beneath that banner was likely Manju Xili, the prince Hong Taiji had enfeoffed in Khorchin.

The younger brother of Khorchin Prince Wukeshan, and the most formidable fighter among all the Khorchin nobility of both the left and right wings.

Babu was more than happy to pass this intelligence to Subadi.

Grand Marshal Liu's forces were too far away to reach the east — living here in the short term was an unrealistic fantasy, and migration was utter nonsense.

But their Chechen Khanate was close to Khorchin, separated only by the Xing'an Mountains.

Even without seizing grazing lands, just the drastic reduction of Khorchin's military strength and their contraction to the vicinity of Shenyang would bring the Chechen Khanate enormous benefit.

What was more, Babu knew in his heart that if they won this battle, his father the Khan Sholui would never miss the chance to seize those pastures.

Subadi had still harbored some misgivings, after all — that fellow Losa charging out with a band of vanguard cavalry was a terrifying sight.

But Losa seemed to have been... not exactly scared off by him, but he no longer dared to come out much.

Subadi's men could not beat the Vanguard Army. They had charged out twice, over two hundred riders each time, and both times sent Subadi's men scattering across the field — under those powerful bows and heavy arrows, they had suffered over a hundred casualties.

By all accounts, in small-scale combat like that, it was a crushing defeat, no question.

The saving grace was that in this season, those vanguard cavalrymen in three layers of armor would succumb to heatstroke even without exerting themselves — they could charge out for one burst, then had to retreat and rest.

It was already the sixth month — waves of sweltering wind, two layers of iron armor over a layer of padded cotton armor — who could endure fighting in that?

By the time he came out the second time, Subadi was prepared. His troops fled at the sight of them but kept a loose encirclement at a distance without routing, so the enemy dared not stray too far from their own lines, and the losses were far smaller.

In the end, when Losa withdrew, more than ten of their warhorses were shot dead, and the riders who hit the ground were surrounded at a distance by the Mobei cavalry, forcing Losa to charge back out again — truly unstoppable in valor — and he even rescued a few of them.

In the end, only three men died at the hands of Subadi's Mobei cavalry.

But even having killed only three, Losa, right up to this moment with the battle lines contracting, had not charged out to kill again.

In truth, at this moment, Subadi secretly half-hoped Losa would charge out once more.

But Losa was no fool.

He and his vanguard cavalry, however fierce, were still only men. Relying on martial skill, armor, and mounts to burst out when the enemy was off guard could boost morale.

But once the enemy was prepared and took countermeasures, where was this so-called "matchless against ten thousand"?

Those who die in the battle line are always the brave.

In that moment, just as Geng Zhongming's Han army formation had its vanguard turn to become the rear guard, with the right wing leading the pivot toward the center, Subadi's Mobei cavalry came charging over in a vast, sweeping tide.

It gave Geng Zhongming a terrible fright. He halted on the spot and refused to move, frantically reforming his lines. He had the Heaven-Blessed Army's first and third characters of the "one-two" formation pull apart front and rear, while the second character spread to both wings, setting up a hollow square.

The Heaven-Blessed Army troops, each armed with long spear and waist saber, stood along the four front faces, while musketeers and cannoniers loaded their firelocks and divine engines and took position at the four corner intervals, guarding against a sudden cavalry raid.

At first, Geng Zhongming thought this cavalry force was circling his formation to probe for weaknesses, and he was brimming with pride — his formation was not afraid of a light cavalry charge.

In truth, Daicing's Han troops greatly feared enemy cavalry charging their lines — the kind that did not actually ram into them but charged up close and traded fire, a tactic the Eight Banners cavalry often used.

The Eight Banners' Han troops feared this because Nurhaci had forbidden Han troops from using bows. For ranged combat, the Han had only firearms. With long spears and short arms, they did not fear a swift ramming charge, but they could not handle a fire exchange.

Firearms alone, after all, were still slow to reload — the margin for error was far too low.

To put it bluntly, this rule was precisely to prevent the Han troops from rebelling, leaving a back door for the Eight Banners to suppress revolts and break their formations.

But Kong and Geng's Heaven-Blessed Army was not counted among the Han troops. They had bows and arrows, no different from the Ming army. They simply had fewer armored troops in full harness, but they were not afraid of Mongol cavalry either.

So they could only watch helplessly as the Mobei light cavalry wheeled in a wide arc beyond their firing range, then the light horsemen in scattered "lake formation" slowly clustered together on the move, coalescing into mounted squads of several dozen riders each. Amid piercing whistles, they suddenly surged in speed, plume after plume trailing vast clouds of dust as they charged straight at the Khorchin lines in the second echelon.

This sudden turn shocked not only Geng Zhongming — Manju Xili in the Khorchin lines was also caught off guard.

He, too, had just received the order to contract his forces and was issuing commands to reform when he saw that the Mobei troops seemed intent on charging the Heaven-Blessed Army. He delayed slightly, planning to lend a hand after Geng Zhongming took the impact.

Who could have known that in the next instant, those riders would come charging straight at him, wrapped in dust.

"Damn it — they're coming for me!"

Manju Xili immediately gave the order: infantry form defensive squares, and cavalry ride out through the gaps to meet the attack.

He would never have dreamed that the Mobei troops would charge at him like fools... He was the second echelon. Attacking him — never mind that the Plain Yellow Banner, Vanguard, and Guard battalions of the third echelon had already moved east with the imperial retinue — Geng Zhongming's Heaven-Blessed Army on the flank would surely catch them in a pincer.

These few thousand light cavalry with mismatched armor, caught in a pincer, would be dead.

What difference was there between this and being tired of living?

Geng Zhongming thought the same. This was battle merit delivered right to his hands. He directly ordered a redeployment: the west and south faces became the vanguard, the northwest and southeast corners the second echelon, and the north and east faces the rear guard. Spreading into a broad horizontal line, they slanted forward to envelop Subadi's flank.

Amid the vast charging cavalry host, Subadi swept his gaze hastily across the battlefield. He saw the princely canopy ahead leading riders out to meet him, and the Heaven-Blessed Army on the flank advancing in a line to attack. Though he was about to be caught in a two-sided pincer, he was not the least bit flustered — he could not even keep the corners of his mouth down, and got a mouthful of sand for his trouble.

Because... it was better to leave Han troops for Han troops to deal with.

Not far to the west of the battlefield, a few solitary riders appeared atop the sand dunes, each spaced several hundred paces apart.

They carried flag lances flying triangular dragon banners, the butt-end rope loops hitched around their right feet, the shaft sling hung over their right shoulders. In their left hands they gripped long-barreled three-eye guns, blew on their fire pouches to ignite the match cord wrapped around their right arms, then one by one lifted their reins and rode down from the dunes.

Behind them, company after company of dust-caked red-armored cavalry carrying assorted triangular banners surged over the sand dunes, clustered around a great flag with a white field and red border.

On the left of the great flag was written: Grand Marshal's Headquarters, Monan Governor's Office; on the right: Shuofang Garrison Commander-in-Chief He; and at the center, a single enormous character: Marshal.

The Grand Marshal's Headquarters' twenty-four troops of scout cavalry served as the vanguard. Over two thousand eight hundred riders of the Shuofang Battalion, led by He Huchen, reached the battlefield without a moment's pause, spurring their horses straight into the attack, their blade aimed directly at the left wing of Daiging's army.

Geng Zhongming's Tianyou Army was the first to bear the brunt.

?? Good evening!

? (End of chapter)