Chapter 1441: The Great Tide of Cavalry, Several Hundred Paces Away

Many of the Jianzhou Jurchen cavalrymen approaching this side saw the scene and doubled over laughing on their horses. These Han curs really were worthless cowards — so terrified that a single shout would probably scare the piss out of them.

Their unrestrained laughter had another reason: everyone had suddenly relaxed. So the Zhao army's artillery was this useless. Before the battle they'd heard all sorts of rumors, listened to comrades who'd experienced it describe how terrifying it was, but after experiencing it firsthand, they found it was utterly worthless. It fired first, yet fell so far short. With artillery like this, what was there to fear? It wasn't even worth mentioning. Once the main force charged in, it would just be chopping melons and slicing vegetables.

Only after the Jianzhou artillery troops had all been herded back did the cannon fire resume from this side. Amid the roaring laughter, it was hard to notice, and no one felt any fear. But the officers and men of the Jianzhou artillery unit were dumbstruck, exclaiming in shock, "How can the second volley come so fast!"

"Fast, nothing! It's just that they have so many cannons — they loaded them and are firing in rotation!"

A question and an explanation, yet this exchange would have made the Zhao army artillerymen's noses twist with fury if they'd heard it. For the Zhao army artillery, such an interval was already unacceptable. The reason the second volley had come so slowly was that Chen Sheng had specifically ordered the delay. Who could have imagined that deliberately stalling would be taken by the enemy as speed?

After the previous bombardment, the Jianzhou artillery officers and men were not so terrified this time, even though the direction of the screaming shells was right on target. And even if they wanted to flee, they didn't dare. The Jurchen cavalry escorting them had all drawn their blades and strung their bows, ready to kill and enforce military law at any moment.

"Ball-less Han curs — hearing firecrackers at New Year's would probably scare you pissless! Get those cannons set up, now!" Someone stood blocking the front of the Jianzhou artillery position, bellowing in rage.

Every man in the artillery unit was cursing inwardly. Everyone knew the background of this shouting Jianzhou company commander. His family, a few decades earlier, had been the Company Officer of the Fushun Thousand-Household Garrison. He had committed a military crime and fled into Jianzhou, and no one expected he'd come back as an Eight Banners company commander out for blood. These bannermen of Han origin treated Han people with particular cruelty and ruthlessness, showing not the slightest mercy.

But no one dared resist. Although this company commander wasn't well-regarded within his banner, the other Eight Banners officers would absolutely never tolerate Han troops showing disrespect to bannermen. Everyone could only endure it and listen.

In truth, that company commander was still cursing, only his curses were drowned out by the ever-louder shriek of shells tearing through the air. At that moment, the horse beneath the company commander first panicked, and then the company commander couldn't help but turn his head to look...

He never got the chance to turn his head. A cannonball struck him square in the upper body. The company commander's upper body simply vanished, along with his horse's head. Before the massive momentum of the lead ball, flesh and blood were nothing — whether human, or the far tougher body of a horse.

The human body and the horse's head were pulverized on impact, flesh and blood mixed with bone spraying in every direction. But this was nothing, not even an obstacle. The cannonball struck the ground, then ricocheted up as it normally did.

The Zhao army's firearms division had conducted reliable statistics: the casualties caused by a cannonball's first impact with the ground were far fewer than those caused when the ball bounced up and became a skipping shot. Because although the distance of this second ricochet was short, it often traveled straight through the enemy's formation, naturally carving out a hell of blood and flesh.

The higher the ricochet, the longer the distance, the faster the speed, the greater the killing power. And the Liaonan earth, long since frozen iron-hard by the cold wind, was perfect for achieving the best effect.

When the cannonball first struck the ground, the iron-hard earth was gouged into a shallow pit. Hard-packed snow, shattered ice, and broken soil sprayed outward like dense iron pellets — wherever they struck, bloody holes appeared. But the real killing came from the ricocheting lead ball.

The lead ball bounced up and swept through the artillery unit. One body of flesh and blood couldn't stop it; ten couldn't stop it either. By the time this cannonball came to rest, more than ten men had fallen.

A second cannonball also landed among the Jianzhou artillery unit. Its first impact didn't hit anyone, but struck a large cart instead. The cart was smashed to splinters, the cannon it carried tumbling to the ground, while wooden fragments and iron parts flew in all directions. The artillery troops who had just been herded back suffered terribly.

The flying wooden fragments and iron parts were, at that moment, every bit as lethal as arquebus balls. And because these artillery troops didn't have to fight in close combat, they were all wearing padded jackets with no armor — though against such an attack, armor wouldn't have done much good anyway.

Screams rang out in succession. Bodies were pierced one after another. The carnage caused by the cannonball smashing things apart far exceeded that of the cannonball itself.

In the second volley, four cannons had again opened fire. This time, two cannonballs struck the Jianzhou artillery unit, causing considerable casualties.

The Jianzhou artillery officers and men scattered in chaos once more. As for the cavalry escorting them — never mind enforcing discipline, they themselves fled in panic first, terrified of being caught by the artillery fire.

Just as the Zhao army artillery position had estimated, there was no need for a massive bombardment of the Jianzhou artillery unit. As long as every falling shell could kill, these half-hearted Jianzhou artillerymen would lack the guts to set up their cannons, let alone fire them.

The Jianzhou Jurchen artillerymen were all captured and surrendered Ming soldiers. They were filled with shame, not knowing where their future lay. Within the Eight Banners system, they were the lowest and most despised stratum, beaten and cursed daily. Under such conditions, they naturally had no morale or fighting spirit — how could they compare to the high-morale, iron-willed Zhao army artillerymen?

After this round of shelling came another stretch of silence. The Zhao army artillerymen had a superb grasp of timing. The interval always made the Jianzhou side feel there was an opportunity to exploit, that they could use this quiet to set up their cannons and even return fire.

When the Jurchen cavalry drove the artillerymen back to their position, ordering them to clear up the mess and prepare to set up and fire, the cannon fire rang out again. This time, no one paid any attention to the direction of the screaming shells. Who would dare gamble? Who would dare harbor any wishful thinking? Run, fast — if you ran too slowly, you'd be hit.

Not to mention the Jianzhou Jurchen artillerymen — even the cavalry enforcing discipline scattered in chaos. Getting caught in this was too horrific; no one was willing to take the risk.

This time, only three nine-pounder cannons fired. But after two volleys, a roughly accurate direction was already assured, and the shells all fell within the Jianzhou artillery position. This time no one was hit, but a cart carrying cannonballs was struck and blown apart. The oxen and horses hauling the carts and cannons hadn't even been unhitched yet; now, terrified, they stampeded wildly, and the scene descended into utter chaos.

By this point, everyone knew how formidable the Zhao army's artillery was. The enemy was bombarding them at such a leisurely, unhurried pace, and their own cannons had no chance to be brought into play.

Fortunately, the rhythm of the Zhao army's cannon fire never changed. Even so, no one dared approach the artillery position area — everyone kept well away. The Jurchen side's regimental commander hastily dispatched a messenger to report, but the man had just set out when Amin's own messenger arrived.

"The Beile asks you: if you fired your cannons, could you match the enemy?" The tone of the guards company commander was icy cold, but Amin's meaning was clear to everyone.

If they could shoot this accurately, then no matter the cost in lives, they would set up the cannons and return fire. A weapon that could strike from several hundred paces with such immense power could not, of course, be abandoned.

The Jianzhou Jurchen artillery company commander had once been a Ming firearms brigade commander in the Liao Garrison. He was quite zealous about Jurchen rank, fame, and fortune, knowing that if he could meet Amin's demands, prospects and rewards would certainly be plentiful. But military law was strict, and lives were at stake. Even if he boasted and lied, he would be exposed immediately. After hesitating a moment, he hung his head dejectedly and said it couldn't be done.

After the Zhao army's second volley struck, the Jianzhou cavalry main force, which had been enjoying the joke, grew somewhat tense and flustered, instinctively moving farther from the artillery position. By the time the subsequent cannon fire rumbled — volley after volley coming in scattered and sparse — they had calmed down considerably, but their morale had fallen just as much.

"The Han dogs' fire cannons are troublesome indeed. We've suffered quite a few casualties already," Jirgalang said in a muffled voice, though his face showed no trace of pain or regret.

In contrast to the panic and chaos at their own artillery position, Amin, Jirgalang, and several key generals remained very composed. Over a hundred had been killed or wounded over there, but such losses meant nothing compared to the entire army — they were even worth it. Through this tedious, one-sided slaughter, they had seen the true quality of the Zhao army's artillery.

"Quite a few casualties, but worth it. Over a distance of several hundred paces, the cavalry won't lose too many. Once we charge in close, their artillery will be useless. We can attack!" Amin nodded and said.

For an army's commanding general, no matter how personally valiant or reckless, the battlefield was nothing but calculation: what losses would one's own side suffer for a given intent, what casualties would it inflict. As long as one's own side died less and the enemy died more — or if the overall trend showed one's own side dying less and the enemy dying more — then it was worth doing. Amin, a battle-hardened veteran, made just such a judgment.

Yet Amin and Jirgalang were not pleased. Their trump card was this main cavalry force. It should have probed and tested the battlefield several times before being played — that was how it would achieve a stunning effect. They had never imagined they would have to use it from the very start, with no other choice.

This left the Jianzhou Jurchen commanders deeply uncomfortable. But on this long, narrow battlefield, there had never been many choices from the beginning. The only option was to throw everything forward with full force.

"Pass the order: my Bordered Blue Banner's elite will serve as the vanguard. Advance in layered formations. Advance is permitted, retreat is forbidden. Those who flee the field will be executed. Compensation for the fallen will be doubled!"

"The cavalry shall charge the enemy's main formation. Pay no heed to the artillery. Once the enemy's main formation breaks into chaos, the artillery will destroy itself!"

"Send word to Yoto: the Plain Red Banner may only move after the main army moves. No forced attack or premature advance!"

"If cavalry flee, execute the company commander. If the company commander flees, execute the regimental commander. If the regimental commander flees, the supervising banner commander shall be severely punished. Beat the drums — forward!"

One military order after another was issued from the position of the central army's command flag. War drums thundered and boomed. The Jianzhou Jurchen cavalry main force at the front began to quiet down. Men gave low, sharp commands; horses whinnied. The formation grew orderly and disciplined. Several banners could be seen moving swiftly forward. When they reached the vanguard of the front line, someone shouted and yelled, signal flags waved, and the Jianzhou Jurchen vanguard cavalry began to advance slowly.

A charge did not mean a mad gallop from the very start. In field battles between the Jianzhou Jurchens and the Ming army, the distance between the two sides would never exceed two hundred paces, because they only had to guard against arrows. But when arrayed against the Zhao army, they had left an empty gap of over four hundred paces — to guard against the enemy's artillery.