Chapter 1201: Skilled with Firearms, Inept with Cold Steel

But just as they reached the flank, they saw the Zhao Battalion household troopers on that side already turning, spears thrust outward, with firearms and bows on one flank as well. Beyond these, troopers were even squeezing out of the square formation, swinging their long halberds to hack, slash, hook, and drag. Many government cavalrymen who ventured too close were struck directly by the halberds or yanked straight off their horses.

Quite a few of the government cavalry wore armor, but even the sturdiest armor could not withstand axe blows or awl strikes. They watched their comrades dropping one after another, their mounts still mindlessly running with the main body. The government cavalrymen pushed to the flanks were utterly terrified and no longer dared to close in.

Meanwhile, the household troopers armed with firearms and bows ducked low and scurried around beneath the spears, some even crawling on all fours. They were heading to the flanks of the great square to open fire on the government cavalry circling around there. More and more firearms and bows shifted to the flanks—there was little pressure from the front anyway.

The Zhao Battalion firearm troopers and archers shouted wildly with excitement as they fired. It was simply too exhilarating. Sheltered by the comrades behind you, you calmly loaded your ammunition, then propped your weapon and fired at the government cavalrymen flashing past before your eyes. You were bound to hit something, and screams were sure to follow. The archers even competed at swordsmanship—hitting the target was nothing; the real skill lay in piercing eyes and necks. This was no different from target practice during training. Too easy, too relaxed. Merits were falling into their hands with ridiculous ease.

Even the artillerymen hidden within the ranks wanted to rush out and fire their cannons. They were roundly cursed by the regiment commanders and company commanders before finally settling down.

At that moment, the mounted troopers and Xuzhou volunteers on the left flank of the Zhao Battalion square began to move, launching a frontal counterattack. Together they numbered only a little over four hundred, far fewer than the great mass of government cavalry before them. But they had ample time to form their ranks, while the government cavalry was a scattered rabble.

The armored mounted troopers leveled their spears and charged at the front, while the light cavalry formed by the Xuzhou volunteers guarded the rear and the edges of both wings. They charged head-on just like that. Though the overall situation was one of many foes against few, on the local level they were using superior numbers to strike at smaller groups. Those panic-stricken government cavalrymen, seeing such an iron formation bearing down on them, how could they dare resist? Some frantically wheeled their horses to turn, but they were galloping too fast and turned too sharply—men and horses crashed heavily to the ground, then were trampled into bloody pulp by hooves. Others tried to resist and were skewered by spears or struck by arrows, leaving only their panicked mounts running loose. Still more government cavalrymen simply dismounted and kowtowed. These fared somewhat better—the lucky ones could dodge past, while the unlucky were simply ridden over.

Watching their own mounted troopers form ranks and sweep around the square, driving off the enemy cavalry like dry twigs, the household troopers and militia of Zhao Battalion erupted in thunderous cheers. Though victory was not yet sealed, this was the beginning of triumph. Amid the cheers, a detachment split off from the rear-guard militia and began gathering the prisoners on the battlefield, rounding up as many of the horses abandoned by the government troops as possible, and carrying off their own dead and wounded for treatment.

The artillerymen of the cannon company, as if they had been pent up for ages, sprinted to the six cannons and began swabbing the barrels, adjusting the gun positions and firing angles, and preparing to load ammunition for firing.

The earth-shaking cheers and war drums of the government army had fallen silent. The dust on the battlefield was slowly settling, and the field of vision grew clearer and clearer. Only scattered government cavalrymen were running wildly everywhere. Those who still had some presence of mind headed back, but more were fleeing in all directions. If even so many cavalry could not break the bandits' great formation, then how were they supposed to fight on? Better to run while they had the chance! They had blades and horses—even if they turned bandit, they could at least claim a larger share of the spoils.

From the Zhao Battalion's position, they could clearly see that the enemy still had one cavalry force that had not moved. When the main body had charged earlier, this cavalry force had advanced slowly, but now it was beginning to retreat.

A tall observation platform was erected. Chen Sheng climbed up to take a look, then flipped back down, picked up his long saber, and announced in a ringing voice: "Order the cannon company to fire three volleys at the densest concentration of enemy troops! The entire army is to dress ranks and stand ready!"

At this distance, as long as the elevation of the gun muzzles was raised, the range of the three-pounder cannons could reach into the ranks of the government infantry. Several thousand of the enemy were massed together. In this situation, there was no need for great accuracy—just lob the cannonballs in!

Chen Sheng's order was passed down. The regiment commanders, company commanders, platoon commanders, and squad leaders of every regiment and unit began correcting the formations. The firearm troopers used ramrods to clean their gun barrels and took stock of their ammunition. Further back, the civilian laborers had already pushed up the carts loaded with supplies. Everyone took what they were short of. Amid this orderly bustle, the cannons roared to life.

At this level of cannon fire, everyone except the household troopers and militia near the artillery position could fully adapt to it; it did not disrupt the work in progress at all. Those who were already prepared even watched the enemy with keen interest, eager to see the enemy's reaction once the cannonballs landed.

The cannonballs struck home—flesh and blood flew everywhere. Then the balls bounced off the ground and rose again—more flesh and blood flew. Six cannonballs carved out six bloody paths. The government army's ranks were already in disarray. Just as they were frantically trying to reform, the second volley of cannon fire rang out. They could see the front several rows of government troops fleeing backward and scattering in all directions without a care. They could also see mounted officers riding over to cut them down—there even seemed to be infighting. When the third volley sounded, the government army's formation, which moments ago had still held some semblance of order, collapsed entirely. Every man was fleeing.

"The enemy line is ahead! The whole army forward—forward!" Chen Sheng bellowed. His long saber swept down. Horn calls, drumbeats, and brass whistles sounded simultaneously. Banners waved.

The ground seemed to tremble in that instant. The main body of the Zhao Battalion's First Brigade began marching forward in step to the drumbeat. Chen Sheng did not mount his horse; he simply walked at the right end of the formation, surrounded by his personal guards. His guards and messenger troopers also led their horses and followed on foot. Only one man, rather oddly, remained mounted, constantly peering toward the east.

"Sir Tong, the brothers can't hold on! The bandits' cannons are too fierce!"

"Sir Tong, we can't throw our lives away for the Shandong troops! These men are the seed of Liaodong Garrison—if they're all wiped out like this, how can we face the elders back home!"

A group of terrified, pale-faced officers surrounded Tong Qingshan, pleading. Not far away, the Shandong officers were themselves surrounded. No one cared about military orders now, nor about righteous duty. Everyone was ready to fight their way out and flee for their lives at any moment.

Mobile Corps Commander Tong Qingshan's expression was equally ghastly. He had watched a cannonball land in the front ranks and finally roll slowly to a stop before him. The ball was smeared with shreds of flesh and blood. It had claimed at least twenty lives and left over a dozen more wishing they were dead. The enemy's artillery was so devastatingly sharp, so immensely powerful, so accurate, and so rapid-firing. Tong Qingshan could not recall ever seeing such cannons in the Great Ming, nor had he ever imagined such cannons existed. Nearly two thousand cavalry in the distance had already collapsed, and the several thousand infantry before him were beginning to rout. These were the capital for his future wealth and rank.

"Retreat from what!" Amid the clamor of the officers, Mobile Corps Commander Tong Qingshan roared, instantly silencing everyone around him.

"Do you want to become bandits? Do you want to be treated as brigands and thieves in Dengzhou and Laizhou, despised and bullied? In war, men die—that's inevitable. If we win this time—no, even if we just hold out—we can all get on the proper path from now on. If we scatter like this, where under heaven will there be a place for us? Do you really want to take to the hills and set yourselves up as kings?" The veins on Tong Qingshan's forehead bulged. His voice and expression were fierce.

As he raged, someone not far away crawled to a corpse, clung to it, and wailed loudly. Clearly a family member had been killed by the cannon fire. The man wept and cried out: "Brother, it was your elder brother who ruined you! If we had stayed in that estate in Xuzhou back then, living in peace and safety, how could it have come to this? It was your brother who led you to seek your own death!"

"That scoundrel disrupting morale—execute him at once!" Mobile Corps Commander Tong Qingshan flew into a rage, pointing at the man and cursing.

None of the officers gathered around Tong Qingshan dared plead for mercy. The wailing man was a squad commander. He had once been taken in by Zhao Battalion, then escaped, and was later recruited by the Imperial Guard and Eastern Depot and sent back to a farmstead south of Qingzhou. He had collaborated from within to break the Xuzhou estate, which was counted as a great merit. After returning, he was promoted to squad commander, and his brother was also given the nominal rank of corporal. He had always boasted that he had made the right choice. Who could have foreseen this end?

At the commander's order, soldiers immediately went over, seized the man, and cut off his head. The battle supervisors on horseback cut down anyone they saw fleeing, without distinction. The returning cavalry also joined the supervisory ranks. Order was finally stabilized.

"Gentlemen, the bandits, not knowing whether to live or die, want to fight us blade to blade. They're abandoning the advantage of their firearms and instead want to close in and play hero. This is our golden chance to turn defeat into victory! Push our men forward—we'll still be using superior numbers against fewer. I refuse to believe we can't smash these bandits!" Mobile Corps Commander Tong Qingshan spoke with a savage expression.

The men below had no other options at this point. Coming from the Liaodong Garrison, the bitter days they had endured in Dengzhou and Laizhou were truly unbearable. Now they had finally, with great difficulty, returned to the proper path and gained official career prospects—how could they throw it all away? In any case, the superior had given his word: force the infantry to charge forward, then press in with the cavalry—there was still a chance for victory!

The Liaodong Garrison officers had already realized how deadly the Xuzhou troops' firearms were, but they still refused to believe the enemy could best them in cold-steel combat. However ragged the government troops might be, they at least had some organization and coordination and knew how to advance on the battlefield. What could a bunch of inland bandits from some backwater region know? Let's meet strength with strength and see!

After giving his instructions here, Mobile Corps Commander Tong Qingshan turned to the household general sent by Regional Commander Yang Guodong and said: "My apologies for the offense just now. Please report back to the Grand Commander: my troops are willing to press forward with all our might and crush the bandits. We request that the Grand Commander send troops to support us afterward. With superior numbers against fewer, we will surely win a great victory!"

The household general sent by Regional Commander Yang Guodong had just been held at swordpoint by the Liaodong soldiers and was still badly shaken. He was in no good mood at the moment. Mobile Corps Commander Tong Qingshan did not mince words—he directly presented two heavy gold ingots. Only then did the household general's expression soften somewhat. The general nodded and said: "Rest assured, sir. The greater good comes first. This humble officer will return and report at once!"

Thanks to old friends "Yuan Heng Li Zhen," "Duan Yichen," "Hua Ji," and "Admiral Shen Nan" for their tips. Thanks to everyone for your subscriptions and monthly tickets. Thank you all.