Chapter 1338: Defense Is Not Dead Defense

This was the Jianzhou Jurchens driving captives to assault the city — captives charging in front, Jurchens supervising the battle from behind. Such tactics are enormously draining on the defenders. Watching people you know come screaming and crying at you — if you don't kill them, you die; but killing them, you can't bring yourself to do it. Whatever the outcome, the defenders' morale will be shattered and their bodies exhausted, until finally the supervising Eight Banners soldiers deliver the decisive blow.

Such battles weaken the enemy while saving themselves trouble. The Jianzhou Jurchens often used this when assaulting cities and fortresses. The Zhao Family Army knew this tactic, but the people of Pi Island were even more familiar with it — many of those poor souls who hadn't managed to flee to Pi Island had been spent in just such brutal processes.

"Now it's either you die or I live! Those people outside are not your fellow villagers or friends, nor are they your brothers and family. If we let them in, we die. If we want to live, we have to kill them!" Shouts rose one after another within the fortress positions. Zhao Song shouted, and the soldiers below repeated it, making sure every person in the camp heard.

Fighting and struggling to the death against former acquaintances, fellow villagers, even family was indeed cruel, but in this situation it was kill or be killed — there was no other choice. Zhao Song wanted the Pi Island able-bodied men to understand this truth beforehand.

The Pi Island people inside the camp wore expressions of sorrow and despair, but no one broke down or lost control. Having fled all the way from the Liao Circuit to Pi Island, they had already witnessed many brutal scenes and endured many unavoidable cruelties. Now that it had come to this, there was nothing they couldn't bring themselves to do. When only two choices remain — life or death — the decision actually comes easily.

Morale within the positions had not collapsed. Zhao Song felt no relief or joy — he knew this was only the bare minimum. To stop the enemy outside, this hard-won morale would be of little use.

"Push all the Nest-of-Fire rockets and cannons forward! Bring the firelocks up too!" Zhao Song roared his orders. The Zhao Family Army soldiers immediately obeyed. Firearms were placed at the very front. Half of the Zhao Family Army's spearmen also moved to the front, and the commanding officers likewise positioned themselves at the very front. This formation greatly boosted the morale of the Pi Island able-bodied men — leading from the front was never a bad thing.

At breakfast everyone had felt a slight ease, but now they were all extremely tense. They wolfed down their breakfast and took their positions. The Jianzhou Jurchens, however, were quite unhurried. After driving the captives over, they did not rush to attack but instead began making preparations.

From the fortress heights they observed the enemy formation. Because the battlefield area was limited to begin with, the Jianzhou Jurchens' intentions were hard to conceal — nor did they intend to. They ate their breakfast at leisure there. Then banners were seen waving, drums were heard beating, and the captured prisoners began crying and cursing as they slowly moved forward. The battle was about to begin.

From soldiers to able-bodied men, the Zhao Family Army's side was nearly all in position. They watched the human tide surge forward, heard the occasional screams ring out. The Pi Island captives knew advancing meant death, so the Jianzhou Jurchen soldiers used slaughter to drive them forward.

"Elders and fellow villagers! You have the guts to charge at your own people, but not the courage to fight the Tartars to the death?!" On the fortifications, Zheng Xiao'er, holding a spear, shouted. Seeing those stumbling, tear-streaked captives, Zheng Xiao'er simply could not hold back.

As soon as he shouted, the Zhao Family Army soldiers immediately caught on and quickly passed the word. Before long, everyone in the positions joined in, shouting and yelling: "If you've got any guts, turn around and fight the Tartars! If you've got the courage to charge this formation, don't use it against your own people!"

Some were shouting, others were cursing. These voices stirred a commotion among the despairing captives, and their forward momentum slowed. But the slowing lasted only a moment — behind them, the screams suddenly grew dense. With the Jianzhou Jurchens killing ruthlessly, the pushing and shoving from front and back made the briefly slowed ranks advance even faster than before.

When only life and death are the choices, people will abandon many things. Those inside the positions could abandon them, and those being forced forward could abandon them too.

The Jianzhou Jurchens' intention was obvious. In the terrain outside the Xuzhou fortress positions, there was only one place suitable for a large force to charge up. The Jianzhou Jurchens drove their troops toward that spot. No flourishes or stratagems — just relying on superior numbers to charge through in one furious burst. You have fortifications? You built low walls from earth and wood? It doesn't matter. With enough men, we'll fill them in with piled corpses.

The denser the screams of the Pi Island captives grew, the faster this large force advanced. Those charging at the very front were even armed with blades and spears. On they came, relentlessly. Inside the fortress, the Zhao Family Army soldiers and able-bodied men all cursed furiously, but it did nothing to stop them.

The captives knew shame. They knew righteousness. They did not want to charge at fellow villagers and acquaintances. But faced with life and death, they had no choice. If they had the courage to fight, they would not be driven forward like this. If they had the courage to rather die than retreat, they would not be in this force at all.

From walking to quick-marching, from quick-marching to running, from running to sprinting — the humanity and conscience within the captive ranks slowly receded, replaced by bloodlust and bestiality. Whoever you are on the other side, only by killing you can I live — then we are enemies. Suppressed and pent up to this point, they needed to kill to vent.

Closer and closer they came, until the men had charged to within a hundred-odd paces. The firelock soldiers raised their firelocks and advanced. By the time they took their positions, the captives had already charged into firing range. Company leaders and squad leaders shouted loudly, waving signal flags. Over a hundred firelocks fired a single volley. A gap was immediately torn open in the charging captive crowd — but as those in front fell, those behind pressed forward, pushing and trampling. No one dared stop, terrified of being cut down by the Jurchen soldiers behind them, terrified of being trampled to death by their own comrades, forgetting that thunder and lightning awaited ahead.

After the firelock volley, the firelock soldiers turned and scattered. Three Nest-of-Fire rocket launchers were pushed forward and ignited directly. After ignition, the two soldiers behind each did their utmost to make the launcher swivel. This time, several dozen firelock shots were fired at even greater speed and density in a single volley — and they even fanned out in an arc.

The momentum of the charge was slowed at this moment. Nearly two hundred were shot dead. In the chaos, those crushed and trampled to the ground numbered even more than two hundred. The captive vanguard was only about a thousand men — nearly half were swept away in an instant. Space opened up, and the others were given time to react, time for their bloodlust and bestiality to recede, time to become aware of fear.

"We're all Han! We're all family!"

"Let us in! Give us a way to live!"

"Don't kill! We beg you!"

"Have you no conscience at all?!"

People in the ranks began crying out, pleading and begging for mercy over and over. Yet their forward steps did not stop. Hearing these blood-weeping cries, the Pi Island able-bodied men inside the fortress positions all showed looks of pity. Among the old, weak, women, and children inside the fortress, many broke down weeping aloud. But those holding the front line were not them — it was the Zhao Family Army. And those pleading and crying had not put down the weapons in their hands; they kept charging forward.

The firearms fire was not yet over. Two cannons were pushed forward. The cannons were loaded with firelock lead balls. With a boom, the two two-pounder light cannons fired — no great thunder or shaking, but enough to send grapeshot hurtling out at high speed, creating a death zone a hundred paces before the positions. Everything caught in it was riddled into sieves.

After the cannon blast, before the cannons could even be dragged back, another thirty-odd firelock soldiers rushed out. They even jumped down from the outer wall, charged out ten-odd paces, and fired another volley. This dense, unceasing fire from firelocks, Nest-of-Fire rockets, and cannons nearly swept the foremost chargers clean. The ground was covered in flesh and blood, the air filled with agonized howls.

By this point, the coerced captives finally realized where the greatest danger lay. Blade slashes and spear thrusts were nothing compared to this piercing and tearing. After the dense crack of gunfire, men lay on the ground. Those select able-bodied men, even the backbone of the Dongjiang Garrison, lay dead, drenched in blood — or worse, wailing as they waited to die.

It was not over yet. After the firelock soldiers fired and scattered, Xuzhou militia actually came charging out, shouting and brandishing long weapons. They jumped down from the low walls, trampled over corpses to form rough ranks, and then charged forward just like that. They did not care whether those before them were Han or fellow villagers — whoever stood in their way, they simply thrust their spears through.

No one wanted to die. The only option now was to flee. But where could they flee? The terrain was so cramped. There was only turning around — only charging at the Tartar overseer troops. Just moments ago, the Tartars had seemed untouchable fiends, but compared to these Xuzhou death-gods inside the walls, what were the Tartars? If they blocked our escape route, then we'd fight them to the death!

The Jianzhou Jurchen overseer troops had never anticipated this. They had been shouting and driving the captives forward when suddenly they could drive them no longer. Then those captives, like pigs and sheep, turned around and charged back. Captive faced captive in a brief deadlock, then the tide reversed. Everyone turned and charged toward them. If you swung your blade to kill one, several would slip past. If you tried to stop them all, you'd be tackled to the ground, torn and bitten — even your weapon would be seized.

After their great victory, the Jianzhou Jurchen troops had nothing to be tense about. The overseer force sent was not large. The main force, truly prepared to follow and charge in, was positioned further back — otherwise they'd have no room to build momentum, no space to fight. As a result, they could not stop the captives reversing and charging back. They watched their own overseer troops be swallowed by the captives, who then came charging straight toward their main formation.

"Hold fast! Kill every one that comes!" The company commanders and platoon commanders immediately gave the order. No matter how fierce their charge, captives were still captives. Pigs and sheep running wild were still, in the end, pigs and sheep. The Jianzhou Jurchens did not fear such a turn of events.

Unfortunately, the momentum of this reversed charge was simply too fierce. Even though the Jianzhou Jurchen formations could still maintain stability, they were forced to retreat in order to hold. This constant pushing and shoving could easily throw their own ranks into disorder. They kept retreating, kept suppressing, gradually wearing down the momentum. The real trouble was that Pi Island's terrain could not support a large force retreating at leisure.

Thank you, everyone.