Chapter 1696: A Mantis's Arm Cannot Stop a Cart

With the coordination and support of the reinforcements, the Great Han army fought its way through a bloody path, repelling the enemies confronting them head-on and pressing the central battle line forward with irresistible momentum. Their advance threw the shogunate forces into extreme panic.

Tokugawa Iemitsu had been watching the fierce slaughter not far away from his main camp the entire time, alternating between excitement and anxiety. But when the shogunate troops engaged in frontal combat began retreating step by step under the pressure of the Great Han army, his face had already turned deathly pale.

The Great Han army had not employed any clever stratagems — they had simply launched a direct frontal assault against him, right where his forces were the thickest, and he had already done everything he could. He had concentrated almost all his artillery fire to bombard these Han invaders and dispatched a large number of troops to intercept them, yet this crimson torrent still could not be stopped and continued rolling forward, pressing ever closer.

By now, even without a telescope, he could make out the faces of the enemy through the hazy smoke. These soldiers in their bright red uniforms — some deathly silent, others with faces contorted — all had their features smeared with red blood and black soot, looking exactly like ghosts and demons.

"My lord! We absolutely must not let them charge up to our army's formation!" Matsudaira Nobutsuna, the Elder who had been accompanying him all along, could no longer contain himself and shouted beside him. "Our main camp must not fall into chaos! And right now the artillery needs cover as well — we absolutely cannot open a path for the Han invaders!"

Matsudaira Nobutsuna's bellow pierced through the barrier of cannon fire, jolting Tokugawa Iemitsu into alertness. He raised his head to look at the Han invaders, then back at his own side.

Indeed, because shells were running short and to avoid hitting their own men, the artillery fire had ceased once the melee began. But the cannons were heavy, and these artillerymen had no way to move them away in haste. If the Great Han forces truly broke through into the main camp, these artillerymen would likely become sacrificial victims under the Han invaders' blades, and the army itself would be thrown into chaos as a result.

Yet Tokugawa Iemitsu had already committed all the troops he could mobilize around him to the fight. Now that they had been beaten back, there was probably no way to reorganize them in a short time. In this desperate moment, where could he find more troops to send against the Han invaders? Unless he used his personal guards.

"My lord! Please allow me to lead the personal guard and fight the Han invaders to the death!" Matsudaira Nobutsuna had clearly reached the same conclusion. He loudly petitioned Tokugawa Iemitsu. "I will fight the Han invaders with my life alongside the soldiers and stall their advance!"

Tokugawa Iemitsu furrowed his brow.

The situation before him was all too clear. The Great Han army had abandoned all other plans and thrown nearly their entire main force into a frontal assault on the shogunate army. Whether this was a desperate gamble or sheer arrogance was hard to say, but the pressure on the center was far greater than imagined — the scene before him was proof enough. The losses were now enormous, and the battle line could be broken by the enemy at any moment.

That being the case, his side could only draw troops from the two wings to fill the gap in the center. According to intelligence gathered from scouting, the Han invaders numbered only a few thousand, and the crimson torrent before him now was likely their main force. As long as he could hold them off or even defeat them, this battle should end in a shogunate victory.

The most critical thing now was time. As long as he could buy time, he would not begrudge even spending his most trusted and elite personal guard troops to grind down the enemy.

A surge of do-or-die fervor shot through Tokugawa Iemitsu's heart. He looked at Matsudaira Nobutsuna, then gave a heavy wave of his hand.

Having obtained Tokugawa Iemitsu's permission, Matsudaira Nobutsuna immediately assembled the troops and, together with the personal guards who had long been gathered around Tokugawa Iemitsu, departed from the main camp. These were all handpicked hatamoto samurai, their fighting strength naturally different from that of ordinary shogunate soldiers. Under their leadership, some troops that had already been beaten back, along with some shogunate reinforcements, charged together toward the steadily approaching Great Han army.

Meanwhile, under Tokugawa Iemitsu's orders, messenger samurai galloped continuously toward both wings, conveying his command for them to reinforce the central battle line.

But by this time, the Great Han army's momentum was no longer what it had been before. After receiving reinforcements from the Second Regiment, they now numbered several thousand and had formed over a dozen large square formations. Their morale was soaring after repelling the enemy. The opposing artillery fire had also begun to die down, and they now felt as though a clear path lay before them. Fearlessly and proudly they advanced, the hot wind laced with gunpowder smoke blowing across every face, only fueling the flames burning ever more fiercely in their hearts.

When Matsudaira Nobutsuna led the remaining shogunate troops to crash once more against the Great Han army's battle line with desperate resolve, the slaughter began anew. Blades and thick smoke swept across like a death-laden storm, shaking the earth beneath their feet. On the burning battlefield, flames shot skyward, and more and more soldiers joined the ranks of the sacrificed. Yet their resistance only slowed the Great Han army's advance. This battle line of several thousand still pressed toward the shogunate forces at a slow but unstoppable pace.

Countless brave officers and sergeants in the Great Han army led the charge against the enemy. They were nearly unstoppable, leading their soldiers as they rushed toward the most dangerous places and the fiercest fighting, treating death as a homecoming. Their regimental commanders did not lag behind either — Ma Chonghao still bore his regiment's battle flag, and Li Huanghe also charged at the very front. Without question, this practice of frontline commanders leading the charge did more to boost the soldiers' morale than any verbal proclamation ever could.

The increase in numbers brought a qualitative change. The Great Han army, now reinforced in both manpower and firepower, had become extremely difficult to resist in a frontal engagement. Matsudaira Nobutsuna likewise led from the front, bitterly holding the line. He waited as time trickled by, anxiously awaiting the shogunate reinforcements that would help him deliver a fatal blow to these fearsome, hateful Han invaders.

But the reinforcements still did not come. Even as they fought the Great Han army with their lives, the Great Han cavalry, after the artillery had first suppressed the enemy, swept toward the shogunate army's left wing, charging at these still-panicked shogunate troops. And the Liaodong Regiment under Bi Su, after the cavalry had carved a bloody path, strode in great strides through the gap their comrades had opened, surging toward the shogunate forces like a raging inferno.

Zhao Song had stopped paying attention to anywhere else. He came to the edge of the artillery position, raised his telescope, and watched as his most trusted Liaodong Regiment and cavalry charged the enemy's left wing.

Now he had no troops left beside him except his guards. He had committed every last one of his forces to the attack — this was his final wager.

And he believed with absolute certainty that he would not fail in this gamble, but would instead pocket victory and glory.

Under Zhao Song's watchful gaze, these Great Han troops charged toward the opposing shogunate army's position at extreme speed.

The foremost cavalry massed together, hacking out paths around the critical routes and closing in on the places where the enemy was most concentrated. Having already suffered heavy bombardment beforehand, these troops had long sustained massive casualties and their formations were very loose. Under the impact of the dense cavalry charge, they were instantly thrown into chaos.

Squadron after squadron of cavalry, their long sabers raised high, accompanied by impassioned neighing and bugle calls, their banners fluttering in the wind — a great mass of horsemen formed a single column, moving as one like a single entity, charging accurately along the pre-planned route straight through, plunging deep into corpse-strewn danger zones, vanishing into the smoke and then emerging beyond it, finally crashing into the enemy ranks. Their sabers swung in succession, cutting down these shogunate soldiers who had nothing left to rely on.

Under these repeated blows, at the sight of the Great Han cavalry charging in on their tall horses, these shogunate soldiers were overcome by terror. They no longer had any heart to fight and fled rearward, howling. Some were cut down directly by the pursuing cavalry as they ran; others fled for their lives, scrambling straight up the steep, muddy slopes. They had become birds startled by the mere twang of a bow, utterly incapable of resisting the Great Han army any longer.

Since the warhorses could not climb the steep slopes and the enemy no longer posed a threat, the cavalry paused briefly to rest and regroup. Once they had reassembled their formation, they charged at the enemy once more, determined to throw the entire enemy left wing into chaos. Behind them, the pursuing Liaodong Regiment also rolled forward, with Regimental Commander Bi Su leading from the front. They fiercely struck every enemy before them, giving them no chance to reorganize.

Under their assault, the shogunate army's left wing was in complete chaos, nearly paralyzed. Not only was it unable to send reinforcements to the central battle line locked in bitter combat, but it now faced the risk of collapse itself.

Zhao Song was thoroughly satisfied with this turn of battle. He immediately sent orders for Bi Su and the cavalry to continue the pursuit, making sure to turn the shogunate army's wavering on the left wing into a full-scale rout and sow chaos among them. At the same time, he ordered the artillery to advance toward the right front, preparing to follow the path the Great Han army had opened and bombard the shogunate main camp from new positions, delivering the final blow.

Under Zhao Song's orders, these artillerymen immediately dismantled the makeshift fortifications they had built beneath the cannons and removed the earth-packed sandbags from the ground, then began pushing the cannons forward once more. They ignored everything happening around them, single-mindedly rolling the gun carriages forward so that, once the range had been shortened, they could resume firing upon the enemy from the high ground.

The ceaseless retreat of the center and the collapse of the left wing all fell into Tokugawa Iemitsu's eyes. He anxiously looked around in every direction, praying for reinforcements to suddenly appear and rescue him from this dire plight, yet the reinforcements never came. By now, others had also seen how extremely unfavorable the situation was, and their faces all showed expressions of fear — even despair.

Matsudaira Nobutsuna struggled to hold the front line with his men, but his battle line had been compressed into a thin strip, at risk of being pierced through at any moment. These Great Han soldiers advanced step by step with a kind of maddening calm, their pace unbroken. They trampled over the corpses of soldiers fallen on both sides and pressed unwaveringly up to the enemy's formation. Then the well-prepared musketeers began firing in volleys, making the already faltering battle line even more precarious.

Tokugawa Iemitsu hoarsely ordered those around him to continue sending messengers, to have the nearby soldiers resist the Han invaders. But just then, he heard a burst of neighing from the flank. He woodenly looked toward the source of the sound and saw a group of cavalry charging toward him at breakneck speed, like a crimson gale. And before them, the shogunate officers and soldiers had already begun to flee.

The fleeing soldiers, seeking safety, instinctively pressed toward the central main camp. But unlike reinforcements, these routed troops could only bring greater chaos to the main camp. They became entangled with the troops that were maneuvering, making it nearly impossible for anyone to advance or retreat. This scene of paralysis and stagnation would make even any famed general tremble with fear — let alone Tokugawa Iemitsu.

Anxiety and rage seared his heart, making his throat taste sweet once more as blood welled up into his mouth. He nearly fainted and only managed to avoid collapsing by clinging to his last shred of energy.

Just then, the sky suddenly darkened. Thick clouds blotted out the horizon, and a great wind began to howl fiercely. The wind whipped up branches and flung them into the air, kicking up a cloud of dust at the same time. It seemed to herald the sudden arrival of a violent storm.

Seeing that rain was about to fall, Tokugawa Iemitsu's heart suddenly eased. If he could just hold on a little longer, until the rain came, the Great Han army's artillery fire would be rendered ineffective. The heavy rain and mud would slow the Great Han army's advance, preventing them from continuing to expand their advantage, and would also allow the shogunate forces to catch their breath for a moment amid the increasingly evident defeat and pull their battle lines together.

Let it rain soon... let it rain soon... Divine Lord, protect me, let it rain soon, protect your grandson!

He practically cried out in entreaty within his heart.

However, what fell first were not raindrops, but cannonballs.

The Great Han artillery, which had already redeployed to new positions at extremely fast speed, had resumed their bombardment. Unlike the shogunate artillery, the Great Han's well-trained artillerymen had adjusted their firing parameters based on battlefield conditions, and the Great Han's superior field guns once again demonstrated their power.

"Boom!" "Boom!"

It was impossible to tell whether it was thunder or cannon fire. The entire earth seemed to tremble. A great number of shells howled through the sky, then arced down to slam into the shogunate army's central main camp. They struck their intended targets with precision, throwing the already crowded and paralyzed main camp into even greater chaos.

The shells, accelerated by gunpowder, were like the devil's hammer and chain — wherever they passed, there was nothing but a bloody gale and a rain of gore. Flesh and blood flew everywhere. Some shells even struck people directly, blasting gaping holes through them or tearing them into shredded corpses. This horrific sight of blood and severed limbs flying in all directions finally broke the already wavering morale of the shogunate army completely.

"Ahhh!" Countless people howled. Wounded and unwounded soldiers, routed soldiers and reinforcing soldiers, the already dead and the soon-to-be-dead — all jammed together, then howled as they fled rearward.

Because the bombardment had shattered their unit structures or killed their commanders, some retreating units fell into a disorderly mass rout. The officers and soldiers who moments ago had fought the Great Han army as bravely as lions now had no courage left at all. They fled rearward, howling. Nothing could stop what was happening before their eyes — neither encouragement, nor curses, nor the brandishing of swords to kill deserters. Nothing could stop them from fleeing backward. They had charged forward courageously just before, but now the horrific casualties and the enemy bombardment had ground away all their will. They would rather suffer the disgrace of defeat and scatter in every direction. Under this massive tide of flight, even those who wanted to stay and fight were swept along and forced to flee. Some routed soldiers trampled each other in their escape, the unfortunate ones trampled to death. Some even fought and killed each other over the path of escape.

At this moment, the rain finally came. Yet the rain that only now began to fall could not achieve the effect Tokugawa Iemitsu had hoped for. Instead, it made the already collapsing shogunate army even more chaotic. Countless men scattered and fled through the rain and mud. Some fled into the woods; others ran rearward without a care, thinking only of escaping this terrifying battlefield.

But their enemies had no intention of granting them such luck. As the shogunate army began to flee, the Great Han forces quickened their pace and pursued without mercy, determined to seize this opportunity to utterly crush the shogunate army.

The relentless pursuit drove the shogunate soldiers deeper into despair. Some ran a short distance and then exhausted all their strength, frozen stiff by panic, only to be killed outright by the pursuing Great Han soldiers. Some simply knelt and begged for mercy. Others, in their confusion and terror, fled desperately all the way to the banks of the Tama River.

These shogunate soldiers, trapped with nowhere to advance or retreat, cried and wailed as they rushed into the river at the sight of the pursuing Great Han cavalry. Though the Great Han soldiers pursuing them were far fewer in number, these defeated troops had lost all will to fight. The instinct to survive made them forget every military order, and they simply jumped into the river.

The not-very-swift Tama River soon swallowed up a large mass of shogunate troops. At the riverbank, these soldiers howled and trampled one another, gradually all sinking to the riverbed. They would never be able to flee again.

Watching one horrific scene after another everywhere, Tokugawa Iemitsu had reached the depths of despair. All day long, like his grandfather before him, he had braved a rain of bullets and arrows to command the battle with valor. Yet now, facing this great catastrophe, he was utterly at his wits' end. Those hatamoto and ashigaru who should have defended him for generations now thought only of saving their own lives. No one paid him any more heed or fought for him.

Now every part of the battle line had fallen into chaos and collapse. It was clear that he had lost this battle. He had sunk into despair.

And having lost this battle, he no longer had any hope of recovery. Edo would become an isolated city, doomed to fall under the Han invaders' naval and land bombardment. And the Tokugawa Shogunate would suffer the same fate.

The heavy rain did not discomfort him. The icy raindrops beating against his body actually made him feel a little better. As the rain blurred his vision, he could not help but weep in sorrow. In his extreme agony, he instead grew calm, silently gazing upon this desolate scene. Tears streamed down his cheeks. He raised his head to look at the sky — in that pitch-black sky, it seemed as though someone was looking back at him.

"Grandfather, forgive me..." He suddenly wailed in grief and fell to his knees.