Chapter 1695: The Great Han Charges On Without Pause

As time slipped by minute by minute, the sunlight gradually slanted, its color shifting from white to yellow. The slaughter and combat on the battlefield had also reached their most ferocious peak. The roar of guns and cannons resounded through heaven and earth, leaving everyone somewhat dazed and disoriented, and making everything else seem to lose all meaning.

The fields along the Tamagawa were already soaked in blood. Everywhere lay corpses, some whole, some mutilated. These bodies, already beginning to blanch, were piled and tangled together, forming a horrifying tableau.

Within the shogunate army's formation, the Shogun Tokugawa Iemitsu watched the battle ahead with burning anxiety. His hand had begun to tremble involuntarily. He indeed had reason to be uneasy. Ever since the two armies had clashed that afternoon, though the slaughter was exceedingly brutal, it was plainly evident that the shogunate forces under his command were getting the worst of it.

Clearly, the shogunate troops he had sent into battle outnumbered the enemy's assault units several times over. Yet, one after another, these forces were routed upon engaging the Han invaders' army, dissipating like waves crashing against a reef, serving only to buy some time by wearing the enemy down.

Right now, this massive crimson reef was inching its way toward him. Though they had suffered casualties earlier, they showed not the slightest wavering and continued their advance without mercy. And right behind these red-coated soldiers, the Great Han army's artillery had been firing all along. The cannonade was ferociously intense, bombarding his troops and bringing terror and death to everyone.

Under the pressure of these Great Han soldiers, the shogunate army's center line pulled back slightly, causing a ripple of confusion throughout the entire force. Some units on the flanks began converging toward the center to block the Han invaders' spearhead and protect the Shogun.

Tokugawa Iemitsu, his face deathly pale, watched the Great Han army draw closer and closer. Yet he did not move a single step, nor did he show any sign of retreat. He was at the very heart of the shogunate formation and absolutely could not shift position lightly, or else it might deal a devastating blow to his army's morale.

Under his very gaze, these Great Han soldiers pressed forward to the very front of his main formation. With his naked eye, he could almost make out the clothing and gear on the soldiers opposite. He raised his telescope to observe them carefully and found that they were all simply holding their weapons high, their faces utterly expressionless, as if they were insensate killing machines.

At this moment, the large teppo at the very front of the main formation were all ready. These teppo were matchlocks of extremely large caliber. They varied in size; some were roughly several times larger than an ordinary arquebus, with specialized gunners holding the stock in their right hand and leveling the barrel horizontally with their left, aiming at the Great Han soldiers opposite, ready to fire. Others were even larger, nearly the length of a man's entire body, looking practically like cannons. These were mounted on special stands, with a group of gunners standing behind them, and rice bags propped behind the supports.

During the Warring States period, the massive influx of matchlocks had drastically altered the nature of warfare in Japan, and firearms had won the favor of nearly every daimyo. The Japanese themselves had also embarked on the path of imitating and manufacturing matchlocks, and these large teppo were all meticulously crafted by artisans within Japan, pursuing sheer power, their calibers made very large.

Beside these large teppo, the gunners were carefully adjusting the firing angles of the cannons. These cannons had all been imported decades ago, when Tokugawa Ieyasu was still alive. During the Warring States period, although Japan imported matchlocks in large quantities, it did not place enough emphasis on importing cannons, so cannons rarely played a role. After Tokugawa Ieyasu unified Japan, in order to annihilate the Toyotomi clan, he began importing cannons in large numbers from the Dutch and the English.

And these cannons had indeed played a role when Tokugawa Ieyasu razed Osaka.

However, after the destruction of Osaka, the Tokugawa shogunate began to widely believe that the realm was now at peace. They no longer imported weapons in large quantities, turning instead to the construction of a stable ruling system. Thus, twenty years later, when facing an even more ferocious enemy, the shogunate's grand army could only rely on these cannons from years past to save itself.

By the time the Great Han army arrived before the formation, the firing preparations for these guns and cannons were all complete.

With the command "Open fire!", the crackling roar of guns and cannons suddenly resounded across the land. Smoke instantly blanketed the entire position. Countless bullets and cannonballs, carrying sharp whistles as they tore through the air, smashed toward this crimson reef, hoping to inflict enough damage to force them to halt their steps.

The dense cannonade tore through the smoke and slammed directly into the Great Han army, forcing them to temporarily stop their advance. The musketeers began forming ranks, preparing to return fire against the enemy, while the others stood rooted in place, awaiting the order to resume the advance.

Some were hit by bullets, but they did not utter a sound, until yet another shot struck them down, leaving them unable to fight on. The entire square formation stood rooted in place, awaiting the order to advance amidst the raging cannonade. Watching the comrades beside them fall one after another to bullets, they felt no fear in their hearts. Instead, an immense hatred accumulated, and they could not wait to charge forward and slaughter the enemy. But they had received no order; they simply stood there motionless, as if what was being fired at them from across the way were not bullets and cannonballs but soft mud.

The commander of the Japan Expeditionary Army's Third Regiment, Ma Chonghao, was right there within the formation, watching the scene of his subordinates enduring the enemy's counterattack. Although he had known full well that the closer they got to the shogunate army's main formation, the more they would suffer enemy counter-fire, the ferocity of this retaliatory cannonade had somewhat exceeded his expectations.

The Great Han officers and soldiers making this assault all came from his regiment. Under Zhao Song's order to assault the enemy's central line, he and the bulk of his subordinates had formed several large square formations and pressed toward the enemy. Ma Chonghao had long wanted to achieve great merit in this campaign, and the initial smooth progress had only cemented his resolve. So he had taken on this arduous task without the slightest hesitation, even feeling elated because of it.

Yet now, watching his subordinates fall one by one under the enemy's bombardment, Ma Chonghao was enraged to the extreme. His eyes were wide open, as if about to split apart. He roared beside his subordinates, ensuring that his army's formation would not waver in the slightest because of this, while simultaneously urging the musketeers at the top of his lungs to complete their preparations as quickly as possible.

Behind him, his own cannons roared incessantly, but these friendly guns could not provide him much help, for they were concentrating their fire on bombarding the enemy's left flank and had already thrown it into confusion. Ma Chonghao had no way of knowing about the victory on the left flank right now. All he knew was that absolutely nothing could go wrong on his end, and even more... he absolutely could not retreat.

"Fire!" Ma Chonghao immediately gave the order once the musketeers were ready.

Acrid smoke billowed up once more from within the Great Han army's formation. A dense swarm of pellets, laden with the soldiers' vengeful hatred, howled as they blasted toward the shogunate army's front, sending many shogunate soldiers toppling to the ground. On the smoke-wreathed battlefield, guns and cannons roared in ceaseless exchange, shrouding everything in a blurred, indistinct world.

Ma Chonghao raised his telescope, wanting to observe the situation on the opposite side, but all he could see were patches of blurry gray-black figures, nothing clear at all. Pellets and cannonballs darted back and forth through the smoke, like demons suddenly emerging from the void, carrying away the young lives on both sides one after another.

The burning anxiety in Ma Chonghao's heart grew thicker and thicker. The enemy had a large number of guns and cannons. Though their marksmanship was poor, their quantity and firepower made up for this deficiency. His own side, though possessing superior firearms and musketeers, would inevitably be at a disadvantage in such an exchange of fire. If they just stood there trading shots, it was clear they would keep coming out the losers.

The opposite side was constantly wreathed in smoke, making it impossible to see their specific troop deployment clearly. Still, presumably, the troops around the Shogun would not be few.

Could he retreat?

No, absolutely not. Marshal Zhao had given the order, and His Majesty had placed such great expectations on him. How could he retreat?

A ruthless resolve hardened in his heart. He gritted his teeth, and his hand moved to the saber at his waist, gripping the hilt tightly.

A true man, even in death, must die in a worthy place!

"Charge! Forward!" He simply drew his saber and shouted loudly to the officers beside him, "Follow me!"

Just as he was shouting himself hoarse, a cannonball howled past, skimming by Ma Chonghao and then striking the standard-bearer carrying the regimental flag beside him, cleanly shearing off half of the young man's head.

Brain matter and blood splattered into the air. Some of the white mucus got onto Ma Chonghao. The pungent smell of blood and an indescribable odor nearly made him retch, but instead of the slightest fear in his heart, that hatred and fury blazed even higher.

His eyes wide, his face almost contorted into a ferocious mask, he simply threw away the saber in his hand and took up the fallen standard-bearer's military flag.

"Follow me!" With this great roar, Ma Chonghao ignored the bullets rushing at his face and walked toward the enemy with near-madness. His personal guards roared almost simultaneously, following behind their regimental commander, charging forward recklessly. Their charge swept up the entire regiment. Almost everyone shouted along, then charged forward with their weapons, rushing at the enemy with their long-pent-up fury.

The shogunate army, shrouded in smoke, did not immediately detect the Great Han army's movement. So when the crimson torrent loomed faintly within the smoke, and when the roars of the Great Han soldiers reached their ears, even Tokugawa Iemitsu felt his heart tremble.

Their own cannonade was fierce enough; it had concentrated virtually all the firepower the shogunate army could muster. By Tokugawa Iemitsu's original judgment, no army could possibly withstand such firepower. He had calculated that after blasting apart the enemy's formation and repelling them, he would then launch a pursuit. He had never imagined that the enemy would not only fail to break, but would stubbornly endure the cannonade with their flesh and blood, and even launch a direct counterattack!

These Han invaders, are they even human... A thought flashed through Tokugawa Iemitsu's mind.

Yet he now had no time to ponder this question. Where he stood, nothing could go wrong—not only for his personal safety, but also for the safety of the entire army.

Watching the red-coated Han invaders howling and charging forward, heedless of the cannonade, Tokugawa Iemitsu unconsciously bit his lip until it bled. He refused to believe that with several times the troop strength, he still could not stop the enemy's assault.

"Full army assault!" He loudly ordered his aides, preparing for a decisive battle with the Han invaders to smash this enemy force.

Under Tokugawa Iemitsu's command, the shogunate army, long poised for action, launched an assault along the entire line against the enemy opposite. A fearsome melee began once more.

The terrain between the two armies was somewhat rugged, the crisscrossing footpaths of former farmland. But these furrows could not hinder or diminish this slaughter in the slightest. Every fold in the ground was contested with blade and spear; nearly every inch of land was fought over. From one farm plot to another, from one patch of woods to the next, even within the sparse village cottages, everywhere, men were roaring and fighting to the death.

The Great Han army charged and killed without restraint, ceaselessly swinging their weapons at the enemy before them. Even in such chaotic melee, they still formed small formations according to their usual rigorous training, then relied on the strength of their comrades to fight the surging enemy, until they seized small areas one by one, clearing out the opposing forces.

Everywhere presented a shocking spectacle of slaughter. The Great Han army's firearms finally unleashed their power across this vast area. Relying on higher accuracy and better training, these Great Han musketeers' volleys inflicted additional casualties on the enemy and coordinated with the advancing pikemen. Ma Chonghao, holding his regiment's flag high, charged and fought through the enemy ranks with his personal guards without a trace of fear. Their eyes were all bloodshot with killing lust, their only thought to crush the enemy.

Just as Ma Chonghao was charging forward, holding the military flag aloft, he suddenly felt a searing pain in his right shoulder. He glanced at his shoulder and found that a pellet had torn a huge wound in it, blood now flowing ceaselessly—he had no idea for how long.

This intense pain did not make Ma Chonghao feel any fear. Years of slaughter had long accustomed him to all manner of casualties, even made him indifferent to life and death. Instead, he clenched his jaw and continued leading his subordinates forward in the charge.

However, brave and well-trained as they were, the enemy's numbers far exceeded theirs. So they could only push the enemy back step by step, but the shogunate forces would immediately resume their counterattacks. These Kanto warriors, howling, charged forward recklessly with their tachi and katana. Time and again they fought with concerted effort, and time and again they were beaten back. On the green fields, on the yellow-brown roads, the great wind whipped up clouds of dust. Thick smoke and clouds darkened the sky. Who knew how many souls were rising into the heavens along with the smoke.

In this stalemated battle, men died with every passing moment, yet those remaining were utterly oblivious, fighting on without the slightest regard. It seemed neither side could overpower the other. But the fact that a shogunate army several times larger could only manage a deadlock with the far fewer Great Han soldiers was itself an indication of a very dangerous situation—because the Great Han army could still send reinforcements. Although their numbers were far smaller than the shogunate army's, the Great Han forces committed to the battlefield were not yet their full strength.

Just as Ma Chonghao was madly charging and fighting alongside his subordinates, a familiar bugle call suddenly rang out behind him. The familiar tune brought Ma Chonghao back to some semblance of clarity. He looked back and saw a large group of red-coated Great Han soldiers charging toward his position.

Marshal Zhao has sent reinforcements! Ma Chonghao was overjoyed. He turned his head back to look at his subordinates, then handed the military flag to a nearby guard and casually grabbed someone else's saber. His body was already drenched in blood, but

"Kill!" He let out another great roar, then threw himself back into the slaughter against the shogunate soldiers with a hundredfold passion.

"Kill!" At that very same moment, the commander of the Second Regiment, Li Huanghe, also shouted out with his subordinates.

Li Huanghe had been watching the fierce battle Ma Chonghao and his troops were experiencing at the front the entire time. He was both worried for them and envious that they could undertake such a critical mission. He had been constantly requesting to reinforce Ma Chonghao, but Zhao Song, only when he was certain the moment had arrived, ordered him to advance along the bloody path Ma Chonghao had carved open and deliver the greatest blow to the shogunate army—committing the Third Regiment under his command. This was also the moment Zhao Song was placing his final wager against Tokugawa Iemitsu.

Under the shogunate army's terrified gaze, another large group of red-coated soldiers charged in from the rear and joined the battlefield. However, for the sake of speed, they did not initially form strict ranks but rushed to the front in a scattered formation. Even so, they still brought sufficient pressure upon the shogunate army. This Great Han force, numbering over a thousand, was like a heavy weight thrown onto a scale, suddenly tipping the balance in the Great Han army's favor.

The shogunate troops who had just been locked in slaughter with the Great Han army were now slowly pushed back. The courage and morale that had been roused in them earlier had also been gradually worn away in the preceding slaughter. At this moment, the Great Han army showed no sign of letting up. Not only the fresh reinforcements, but even the Great Han soldiers who had been exhausted in the prior fighting followed behind Ma Chonghao's military flag and continued their charge forward. They surged ahead irresistibly. Though men kept falling to the cannonade, they were on the verge of reaching the enemy's artillery positions.

And just then, the left flank battle line, already trembling under the cannonade, experienced a new tremor. A large group of cavalry galloped swiftly across the fields, strewn with green grass, severed limbs, and blood, sweeping rapidly toward the shogunate army's formation. Hooves trampled the dead and the dying, making the scene even more horrific. Some pitiful wounded soldiers were missing hands, feet, even jaws, but their groans went unheeded. The thundering horses instead caved in their chests. At this moment, furious shouts, curses, groans of pain and despair, mixed with the neighing of horses, filled the entire battlefield. Yet these cavalrymen were utterly oblivious, simply forming tight ranks and sweeping toward the enemy at extreme speed!