Chapter 1328: Only the Brave May Fight

The Tartars' arrogance and ease were on full display; their clamor and laughter could even be heard. They clearly didn't take those few hundred soldiers on the opposite side seriously at all. Zheng Xiao'er kept thinking to himself that if the Tartars grew even more contemptuous, the Xuzhou troops' odds of victory would be greater. Yet while the Tartars were arrogant and relaxed, there was nothing sloppy about their troop deployment. Everywhere, their formations were tight, strict, and orderly, which made Zheng Xiao'er's heart clench with worry again.

Those several hundred Xuzhou troops were advancing very slowly. Watching this made Zheng Xiao'er frantic with anxiety. What time was it now, and they were still dawdling? By the time you reach them, the Tartar troops will have long since set their battle lines. In a face-to-face fight to the death, could you possibly have any chance or assurance of victory? And the Tartar troops were still continuously coming ashore — every moment of delay meant one less chance.

The Tartar soldiers were also advancing. Their archers held their bows half-drawn; some aimed straight ahead as they walked, while others followed their detachment, running toward the Xuzhou troops' flank. With soldiers on two sides and the sea on the other, this was a three-sided encirclement. The Xuzhou troops ahead were moving even slower now, and seemed to be shifting as well — one unit continued forward, while another turned toward the flank.

Zheng Xiao'er's heart was in his throat. He stared fixedly at the battlefield by the shore, utterly ignoring the blinding sunlight. What was that thing the frontmost Xuzhou unit was carrying? Could it be firearms? Seeing this, Zheng Xiao'er's heart went completely cold. What damn use were firearms? The soldiers of the Liaodong Garrison had so many firearms in their hands, yet they still couldn't stop the Tartars' bows and horses. The capable soldiers of the Dongjiang Garrison all said that on the battlefield, life and death were decided by bows, horses, blades, and spears — fighting face to face to the death. Using firearms made a man cowardly; the moment they ran into Tartars, they'd shrink back.

Seeing this, tears inexplicably streamed down Zheng Xiao'er's face. Wiping his tears as he went, he turned and ran toward the mountain. Once the main Tartar force surged up, he wouldn't survive. Those Xuzhou troops down below certainly wouldn't survive either. No one on Pi Island would survive. Even if they were captured, that fate would be far worse than death.

Having eaten nothing all night and just fought a desperate life-or-death struggle, Zheng Xiao'er's stomach was empty and his whole body was weak. He couldn't even run anymore. Stumbling and staggering, he'd only climbed a dozen or so steps before he was dizzy and his vision blurred. But just at that moment, he heard a sound like popping beans erupt behind him. The firearms had gone off. Zheng Xiao'er's expression didn't flicker in the slightest. What was a little noise like that? When the Dongjiang Garrison's firearms went off, the sound was far more terrifying. But how many could they possibly kill? It's over. It looks like it's all over…

Zheng Xiao'er heard agonized screams. For the Xuzhou troops to dare come out and engage the Tartar slaves with so few men — they were true men, a rare sight even among the official army's soldiers. But they were still going to die here. He feared that after suffering defeat and death this time, next time they wouldn't have the guts to fight the Tartars anymore. Even so, they were still better than the official army's soldiers, who hadn't dared to fight from the very start!

Wait! Something's wrong! Screams were screams, but why was that panicked, frantic speech in the Tartar tongue? Could it be? Zheng Xiao'er spun around in shock!

Zhao Song, clad in a full set of armor and gripping a long halberd, walked behind the arquebusiers. Everyone knew that walking at the very front was the most dangerous, but Zhao Song also knew that in a situation like this — outnumbered, facing fierce Jurchen troops — as the commanding officer, he had to be at the front. Otherwise, the army's morale and fighting spirit would weaken considerably; there might not even be any will to fight left to speak of.

However, his attempt to walk at the very front was dissuaded by the company commander leading the arquebusier company. His words were blunt and to the point: "Battalion Commander, if you were holding an arquebus, it wouldn't matter if you were up front. But you're holding a long halberd — so don't block our fire!" Zhao Song understood that the other man meant well, but he also knew he was right. So he moved to the front rank of Pi Island Battalion's First Company.

Seeing him take a step back, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Master Jin had very few kinsmen in the army. The ones who had followed him the longest and held the highest positions were Zhao Song and Zhao Wan. If anything happened to either of them here on Pi Island, it would be difficult to answer for it, both internally and externally. Before setting out, every company commander had been given reminders about this.

But when the First Company commander tried to dissuade him, Zhao Song silenced him with a ferocious glare. This First Company of the Soldier Battalion was the very company Zhao Song had always led. The current company commander had once been a squad commander under Zhao Song, so naturally, he had to obediently fall in line.

"The Tartars' top priority is getting their main army ashore. They have to be wary that we're just a diversion, that the Dongjiang Garrison still has a large force coming. So they won't dare stray too far from their landing point. That's perfect — it gives us time to deploy!" Zhao Song raised his voice. He didn't expect everyone to hear him, but those who did would feel considerably more at ease.

The arquebusiers carried their arquebuses and had ammunition strapped to their backs. The soldiers behind them all wore full armor and held long weapons. In such a fully armed state, their bodies were inevitably heavy. Though this beach wasn't sandy, the ground was very soft, making it extremely difficult to walk on. With this kind of sloping terrain, plus the gravel and earthen mounds near the shore, there was simply no way to form a horizontal line. Even the pikemen companies could only advance in columns. A force of several hundred men ended up stretched out over a long distance.

When the Jianzhou Jurchen force began sending archers running out, the Zhao Family Army's Soldier Battalion no longer needed to weigh the battlefield conditions. Zhao Song gave the order: arquebusiers, deploy! Pike units, deploy! Prepare to engage!

"First through Seventh Squads, Eighth through Eleventh Squads, to the left…" Zhao Song's eyes were fixed on the enemy's movements as he continuously issued orders. One reason the Zhao Family Army had won every battle was that their enemies always underestimated them. But now, while they could see the Jianzhou Jurchens' arrogance, they saw no sign of contempt or carelessness. This made Zhao Song exceptionally cautious.

The enemy looked down on them. The enemy was jeering. But their formations and deployments showed not the slightest sloppiness — that meant they were not underestimating their foe. Zhao Song had fought the official army before. The official army's formations, viewed from a distance and in broad strokes, looked somewhat presentable. But up close, they weren't worth mentioning — scattered, disorderly, without discipline. The Jianzhou Jurchen troops, however, were different. They didn't have so many fluttering banners, nor such an imposing martial display, but their discipline was strict, and they controlled every point that needed controlling.

"Volley fire from the arquebusiers! After firing, disperse! All pike companies, charge forward! Arquebusier company, follow behind and reload!" Zhao Song spoke through gritted teeth. The situation before him was unlike any he had ever encountered. Rogue army troops charged wildly and without order. The official army was incompetent and useless. But the Jianzhou Jurchen troops were elite, fierce, and rigorously disciplined. How was a battle like this supposed to be fought?

"Consider as many possibilities as you can, prepare for the worst, and then fight with courage and fearlessness." This was the principle Zhao Jin had imparted to officers at every level. Not many of them had read military treatises, nor did many understand the art of war. After learning the basic drill manuals in the academy, when faced with a situation requiring independent action, they were to follow this principle.

"Pass my orders down! First Company, charge with me! Fourth Company, charge toward the left flank! If First Company pulls back, all other companies are to pull back as well — no lingering in battle! If I fall, the First Company commander is to act in my stead, and so on down the chain of command! Pass it down!" Zhao Song said in a low, grim voice.

The company and squad commanders near him relayed this order continuously downward. The entire formation began to quiet down. Those whose helmets had face guards began fastening them shut. By the time the arquebusiers began preparing to fire, the entire force was poised to strike, and the distance to the Jianzhou Jurchens was only a little over a hundred paces!

The slow deployment of the Xuzhou Zhao Family Army likewise put pressure on the Jianzhou Jurchen troops. Such a calm and composed shift in formation demonstrated the enemy's confidence. Since when did Ming militia possess such composure? The relaxed contempt on their faces vanished, replaced by grave solemnity.

War drums were already pounding to the north; the sky shook with the roar of battle. More and more Jianzhou Jurchen soldiers were coming ashore here. Wooden crates and bundles were also being passed forward. At that moment, the morning sun rose, its rays spilling across the shore and gleaming off the Zhao Family Army's armor. The sharp-eyed Jurchen archers could see it clearly: this group of Xuzhou men were actually wearing iron armor!

They had already seen clearly enough before, but from top to bottom, the Jianzhou Jurchens simply could not believe it was iron armor. This wasn't chainmail made of linked iron rings, nor was it the even more complex mountain-pattern armor, and certainly not the cotton armor the Jurchens themselves used. It was armor pieced together from individual iron plates. The chest piece was a single, solid plate of iron! The helmet, the vambraces, the greaves — they all looked as if they had been forged from whole pieces of iron.

Anyone with even a little knowledge knew how difficult this was. A piece of iron had to be hammered out blow by blow on an anvil. How much labor did it take to shape and finish? The cost had to be enormous. One or two sets wouldn't be remarkable, but here before them were several hundred sets. Aside from those carrying firearms at the front, who didn't have any, every other man was wearing a set. This was far too extravagant. In all the Ming armies and Jurchen tribes they had ever encountered, who had more than a few sets of iron armor? It was said that the Great Khan Nurhaci had risen with thirteen sets of iron armor — a tale of humble beginnings. But in this land of white mountains and black waters, how many families could even scrape together thirteen sets? A household with such assets in the Ming realm would be worthy of a rank like Mobile Corps Commander.

What on earth was the reason that these Xuzhou soldiers could suddenly produce several hundred sets? And for infantry, no less! Among the Ming official armies, numbering in the thousands or tens of thousands, could they even muster a hundred or so men in full iron armor? And weren't those all on the mounted officers and elite troops? Since when did infantry have them?

Word spread continuously from the front to the back. Men with bows could be seen constantly running forward. The Jianzhou Jurchen soldiers' expressions grew cautious, but greed shone through in every pair of eyes. Slaughter this bunch of reckless Han soldiers, and all this iron armor would be theirs. The masters would surely want to take it for themselves, but with so much to go around, how could they not distribute some of it? That would all depend on each man's merit and future prospects.

The Xuzhou soldiers across from them had halted their steps. Had this lot lost their nerve? Even if you wanted to turn back now, it wouldn't be so easy. The Jurchen soldiers, who had been slowly closing in, began to quicken their pace. They saw the Xuzhou front ranks all bracing their arquebuses, preparing to fire. Their stance was quite different from the Ming army's. The firearms themselves looked different too. According to intelligence sent back by spies, these firearms were quite powerful.

Yet the moment they saw the enemy bring out firearms to fight, the Jurchen troops' steps grew even faster. The solemnity on many faces vanished completely, replaced by nothing but grins. They looked the part, all clad in iron, but in the end, they were just a pewter spearhead — all show, no substance. They had seen plenty of official troops wielding firearms. Many of those firearms had larger bores and longer barrels, but what use were they? They'd fire off a panicked, disorderly volley too early. As long as you shielded your head and face, you could charge right up to them. Once you reached them, this lot would turn and run, taking the men behind them with them in a rout. Then everyone could just wade in and enjoy the slaughter. They had been through this kind of battle many times. And many of those times had been great victories. Once they'd devoured this prize of goods and wealth, they'd charge over and strike in a pincer, wiping out those lingering ghosts of the Dongjiang Army once and for all.

I won't be getting this month's perfect attendance bonus. Ah, so many things going on. I hope everything gets settled soon.