Chapter 250: Breach

The courtyard instantly quieted down. Everyone knew a fierce fight was coming, but facing an attack from one direction was entirely different from being surrounded.

Zhao Jin took several deep breaths. His judgment had been correct; he had managed to steady their morale. When he turned around earlier, he had been forcing himself to appear calm, terrified that he had been wrong.

The "wooden wall" opposite them drew closer and closer. Zhao Jin crouched lower on the watchtower. He suddenly cursed under his breath. Zhao Jin had just realized—if the bandits outside truly attacked from all four sides, that would actually be a good thing. The enemy's forces would be spread thin, and their own chances of victory would increase significantly.

"Bring all the boiling water up here! Set up cauldrons right here and start heating water!" Zhao Jin turned his head and shouted. At this moment, his orders were the backbone of the Zhao Battalion. Men immediately moved to carry them out, but no one saw the bitter smile on Zhao Jin's face. He should have heated the water below the wall. Now it was too late; the water would never reach a boil. And if they carried it over from the kitchen, the temperature would drop, and worse, they might scald their own men.

"Damn it, the bandits are still on the other side! Get into cover, everyone fall back!" The enemy archers from the south had come down from the rooftops and were shooting into the courtyard again. Fortunately, it only caused panic and no one was hit. The enemies on the other two sides had not withdrawn either; their harassment was meant to pin down the defense inside the main compound.

Commotion stirred again on every side of the main compound, but this time the alarmed clamor was much quieter than before. The household troops of the Zhao Battalion were also realizing that the harassment from these directions could not strike at their foundation. Though still chaotic, it slowly allowed them to settle their nerves.

Attacking from all four sides at once to prevent them from focusing on one—the Cloud Mountain Temple monk soldiers held the advantage and were still this cautious. Compared to the arrogant and reckless mounted unit from before, the one leading them was truly formidable, very much like a lion using its full strength to hunt a rabbit.

The harassment on the other two sides continued, but the shrieking of arrows tearing through the air from the south had stopped. On the watchtower, Zhao Jin noticed that the "wall" opposite them had temporarily halted. Someone was loudly shouting to dress ranks and align the formation. A dozen or so men also ran out from the street to the south, circling around to the back of the "wall."

Zhao Jin's eyes narrowed on the watchtower. The bonfires outside were burning brighter and brighter, illuminating everything with stark clarity. Those dozen or so men were carrying bows—the very same archers who had been shooting and harassing from the rooftops to the south. They moved behind the "wall" and formed ranks with the men already there.

Behind that "wooden wall" of door planks were all archers. Zhao Jin drew a sharp breath. Roughly sixty bows. It looked like they intended to completely suppress their eastern defense. His judgment had been correct; the enemy was indeed committing their full strength to attacking the eastern courtyard wall. But with the enemy committing such overwhelming force, could he hold?

Zhao Jin wiped his hand on his pants. They were somehow drenched in sweat again. A scene like this, a battle of over a thousand men—this was his first time. He had heard his second uncle Zhao Zhenxing recount battle histories, tales of great wars with tens of thousands of soldiers. They sounded so effortless in the telling, and he had thought them unremarkable. But now, seeing it for real, with both sides combined numbering barely over two thousand, the spectacle was so vast, the pressure so immense. He did not know if he would live to see tomorrow's sun.

"The enemy has sixty bows! Everyone take cover! All squads in the courtyard, take cover! Rebuild the barricades! Await my command, no one move!" By the end, Zhao Jin's shouts were hoarse and strained. He could barely maintain his composure.

He lay prone on the watchtower, hiding his body behind the tower's barricade, observing the movements outside through the gaps. The monk soldiers' "wooden wall" had become somewhat disordered after advancing a stretch, unable to maintain a continuous line. It was scattered, with gaps appearing between them. They halted, realigned themselves, and then continued forward. Behind the wooden wall were the archers, and behind the archers were several columns, each about twenty men strong, arranged only two abreast.

What use were such thin columns? Could they be elite shock troops from the monk soldiers? But it was night, after all, and with the "wooden wall" blocking the view, he could only make out the general picture; the details were unclear.

Behind these four columns, a large mass of troops slowly advanced. He could see they were grouped roughly in companies of a hundred, each led at the front by an armored, burly man. These monk soldiers carried a mix of blades and spears, their cold gleam flashing in the firelight.

After another ten steps, the monk soldiers' advance halted again. It seemed nearing the high walls of the He Family compound made them tense; they could not maintain a steady marching rhythm and had to realign. If the "wooden wall" of door planks at the very front fell out of alignment, it would lose its shielding effect.

Zhao Jin's breathing steadied somewhat. If the enemy could maintain a perfectly ordered formation while advancing, there would be no point in fighting this battle. They were, after all, a temple's armed force and could not yet match the model of elite troops. But on deeper reflection, it was still shocking. The performance of these monk soldiers before him already matched that of the veteran crack troops his second uncle had spoken of.

"A high-angle long shot should just about reach them. Big Brother, shall we engage?" With the archers no longer harassing from the south, Dong Bingfeng had hurried back.

Zhao Jin was utterly absorbed in watching. Dong Bingfeng's words startled him, but he reacted immediately and said in rapid succession, "Shoot! Shoot!"

As he spoke, Zhao Jin's face burned. He had been far too tense, so focused on defense and taking cover that he had completely overlooked his own archers. Standing on the wooden platforms behind the wall and shooting upward at an angle, their range could exceed that of the monk soldiers' archers. They could fire first, hindering and killing the enemy.

"High-angle long shot... three arrows first!" Dong Bingfeng roughly estimated the distance and shouted at the top of his lungs.

The archers crouching behind the wall heard this and hurriedly rose. Among the Zhao Battalion's own archers, only Zhuang Liu rose first. The rest were half a beat slower than those veteran cavalrymen—or even more.

Dong Bingfeng himself stood straight on the watchtower, drew his bow, nocked an arrow, and tilted it upward. With a *thwip*, the arrow shot out. The sharp shrieks of arrows tearing through the air rang out in succession.

The arrows, loosed in a high arc, traced a curve and fell among the monk soldiers' ranks. Because the He Family compound had been noisy internally with no outward response, the monk soldiers' formation had never expected a counterattack. Coupled with the noise of their own ranks and surroundings, they only noticed when the shrieking arrows drew close—but by then, it was too late.

Some arrows missed, some struck the "wooden wall," but even more hit the monk soldiers. Screams and cries of pain immediately erupted into a chaotic din. The slowly advancing "wooden wall" halted at once. Several door planks clattered to the ground, and two of the columns behind them collapsed.

"... Don't panic, raise the door planks..." The shouts of the monk soldier leaders could be heard, but those shouts were swiftly drowned out by louder screams, pained cries, and chaos. The second volley had arrived.

The men holding the door planks had all crouched down. The archers behind the planks bent over and huddled close for cover, but the planks could only shield so much. The four columns behind the "wooden wall" fell into complete disarray. Those men all shrank backward, either hiding behind the door planks or retreating out of range—otherwise, they were far too easy to hit.

"... Any who retreat will be executed! Forward! Charge and pin them down!" Someone roared at the top of his lungs. A louder scream rang out. "This is what happens..."

The armored, burly men brandished their weapons. Between possibly being shot and definitely being cut down by the rear ranks, everyone knew what to choose.

The monk soldier archers hiding behind the door planks also began to return fire, but the distance was awkward. The arrows that reached this side had little remaining force.

"... Front ranks, hold! Rear ranks, kill any in the front who falter..." A series of shouts rang out.

"They really are enforcing battlefield law!" Zhao Jin heard it clearly on the watchtower and could not help cursing under his breath.

He could see the entire monk soldier formation freeze for a moment. No one knew who shouted first, but the "wooden wall," which had been lowered to half its height, was suddenly raised high and surged forward. The archers behind the "wooden wall" followed, bent at the waist. What surprised Zhao Jin was that the monk soldiers were still maintaining those four columns, though they had now become intermingled with the comrades behind them.

The third volley of arrows rained down. More monk soldiers were shot dead, but the fallen were immediately trampled over by the men behind. No one even noticed them.

They could still loose a fourth volley... Some men on the wooden platforms continued to draw and nock, but those veteran cavalrymen had already crouched low early on.

"Take cover! Take cov—" Zhao Jin roared hoarsely from the watchtower, but his voice was drowned out by the shrieking.

This time, the screams rang out inside the courtyard. Four archers on the wall top screamed as they tumbled off the wooden platform. Zhao Jin no longer dared to raise his head. He pressed his entire body flat behind the watchtower's shield boards. Incoming arrows thudded against the boards with sharp *thwacks*. Dong Bingfeng lay prone beside Zhao Jin and shouted, "Big Brother, order the squads in the courtyard into the buildings! If the enemy archers get any closer, they'll be able to blanket half the courtyard. If the squads stay outside, the casualties will be even worse!"

Outside was utter chaos. The enemy archers who had halted and loosed their first volley were being jostled by their own men pushing from behind. Many could not get off a second arrow in time. Seizing this brief lull in the arrow storm, Zhao Jin issued orders to the squads in the courtyard. The various squads, already suffering scattered casualties, hastily dispersed and began reforming their ranks using the houses and structures for cover.

The brief lull did not last long before the arrows began to thicken again. No one in the courtyard dared raise their head, dared stand straight, or even dared peer outside. Only the men on the watchtower, shielded by the boards, could observe the outside through the gaps.

The open ground to the east surged with a tide of men, a cacophony of noise. Orders could no longer be heard. But he could see the monk soldiers' formation gradually recovering. The archers formed two ranks and kept shooting incessantly, while the men of the "wooden wall" carrying door planks in front jogged toward the trench and threw the planks down.

Was this to further level the nearly filled trench? The thought had just flashed through Zhao Jin's mind when he saw the archers, who had now closed to within fifty paces of the wall, spread out to both sides with their bows.

They weren't continuing to shoot inward? Zhao Jin froze for a second, then immediately understood why they had parted. He finally saw clearly what those four columns were. Those columns of twenty-some men were not a formation at all. Two rows of men were hugging a massive, thick wooden pillar—a roof beam. They were going to ram the wall!

The moment the arrow storm outside ceased, everyone in the main compound breathed a sigh of relief. But they still dared not show their heads. With so many archers still outside, exposing themselves meant possible death or injury.

"Those against the wall, stand firm and hold tight!" Suddenly, everyone heard Zhao Jin's bellow.

This time was different from before. The already panicked archers of the Zhao Battalion instinctively obeyed. But the veteran cavalrymen and the ever-calm Zhuang Liu hesitated for a moment, not understanding what was happening.

The door planks were thrown down, the archers parted, and the four columns of monk soldiers hugging the wooden pillars charged forward with frenzied shouts, slamming heavily into the wall!

The high wall of the compound shuddered violently. The watchtower where Zhao Jin stood trembled sharply. The wooden platforms leaning against the wall swayed, catching the men on them off guard. Several tumbled straight off. Fortunately, the platforms were built from stacked bed frames for stability and ease of climbing, layered one upon another, so those who fell did not plummet directly to the ground.

Cries of pain rang out simultaneously. "So hot!" "It burns!" The boiling water hauled up had been knocked over again, splashing many. Zhao Jin's heart seized with urgency. The boiling water he had prepared had yet to harm the enemy but was scalding his own men—this was far too absurd.

"... Good thing the water's cooled down..." Voices came from below. Zhao Jin let out a breath, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. The boiling water had been sitting on the wooden platform for a while and was no longer scalding hot. A stroke of accidental luck.

After one ramming strike, the monk soldiers retreated a dozen or so paces with the wooden pillar, preparing to gather momentum for another charge. Lying prone on the watchtower, Dong Bingfeng nocked an arrow and prepared to rise and shoot. He was not the only one; everyone else on the wooden platforms was making the same preparation. But just as they were about to rise, Dong Bingfeng hurriedly dropped back down and shouted, "No one move! The enemy archers are watching!"

His words had barely faded when arrows came shrieking through the air again, hammering densely against the watchtower's shield boards and whistling over the wall top into the courtyard. The monk soldier archers were following right behind the ramming party, ready at any moment to sweep away any resistance on the wall top.

"... Watch out..." Zhao Jin shouted again, but his voice was immediately drowned out by the tremendous crash against the wall.

"The wall's cracking!" "There's a fissure over here!" The men inside the wall were all shouting.

The high walls on all four sides of the He Family compound had not been built for defense. They were merely meant to enclose and separate the compound. The He Family compound's security relied on the He family's influence and its guards, not on these walls. Thus, the high walls were ordinary brick walls. They did have stepping platforms inside and simple watchtower setups, but these were merely nominal—nothing like the fortified strongholds of powerful clans.

A high wall of brick and earth was not made of paper, but against a massive log carried by dozens of men, it was only slightly stronger than paper. One more ramming strike, and the eastern high wall would be breached.

Zhao Jin peered outside again through a gap. The archers standing behind the ramming party were all in a state of full alert, staring fixedly at the wall top. They were not shooting into the courtyard; it seemed their sole task was to prevent the ramming party from being disrupted by a counterattack.

"Off the watchtower! Everyone off! Everyone off!" Zhao Jin drew a deep breath and shouted the order.

No one argued. Everyone knew that when the wall was smashed through, the watchtower and wooden platforms would be caught in the collapse and would bear the brunt of the first assault.

He let Dong Bingfeng go down first, then Zhao Jin himself carefully climbed down. He kept taking deep breaths, adjusting, forcing his emotions to steady.

Zhao Jin knew his judgment of the enemy's intent was correct — Cloud Mountain Temple wanted to annihilate them completely. Relying on dozens of bows and superior numbers, the enemy had already thoroughly suppressed the Zhao Battalion. But arrows and encirclement could not wipe out the Zhao Battalion entirely. Once daybreak came, they would have to withdraw, and all their efforts would be wasted. Not only would they be unable to return, they would also draw the attention of the authorities and various factions. They had to end this battle tonight and completely destroy Zhao Jin's band. That was why they were breaking through the courtyard walls — to charge in with their superior numbers and sweep the Zhao Battalion clean.

He had just descended the watchtower when, over on the wooden platform, some men still hadn't had time to climb down. The great log outside slammed into the wall again, and the bowmen on the platform were shaken off their footing and fell. Fortunately, it wasn't high — they only suffered bruises from the fall.

With a crash, two great holes had already been smashed through the eastern high wall. The firelight outside was now clearly visible!

"Fall back! Bring the barricades to the front — watch out for arrows from outside!" Zhao Jin shouted.

As soon as the order was given, men began carrying bed frames and door planks to set up defenses. Zhao Jin kept twisting his head to look back at the eastern courtyard wall. Several household troops passed in front of him, and Zhao Jin noticed their faces were deathly pale, their bodies trembling uncontrollably. Zhao Jin also recognized them — these household troops were all from the veteran squad.

"Zhao Jin, both the veteran squad and the new recruits are panicking. You need to make a decision, fast!" Chen Sheng walked over and said in a low voice.

He had barely finished speaking when the two of them heard loud shouts coming from outside: "... to the right..." "To the left — don't strike the same spot. We need to open a gap wide enough for the main force to..." "... form up, advance forward..."

"Big Brother, what do we do?" Shi Manqiang had already run back from one side. Now that they had begun ramming the wall here, the harassment on the other sides had all ceased.

Zhao Jin swept his gaze around. By the light of the lanterns in the courtyard, he saw that most of the men were pale-faced and panicked. Even the older veteran riders wore tense expressions. Only his own companions and a handful of others remained relatively calm. Shi Manqiang's question of what to do was not born of panic — he was awaiting orders.

"What do we do? We fight them to the death!" Zhao Jin said gravely after a brief moment of deliberation.

The companions gathered around Zhao Jin all nodded crisply and decisively. They had experienced too much bloody slaughter, and all of it recently — they were more accustomed to such scenes than the others.

"All squads assemble in the courtyard! Ignore the other three sides — the entire battalion, fall in!" Zhao Jin bellowed.

The moment the order was given, each squad leader immediately began assembling their own squad. Many of the new recruits who had been hiding in the barracks also came out, trembling with fear. Although they had been safe inside the barracks the whole time, listening to the commotion outside had created a pressure that felt crushing. Stepping out of the barracks actually brought a sense of relief.

"Lu Da, Li Wu — your two squads, move the wooden platforms away from inside the eastern wall. Move everything to the sides. Clear everything between here and the wall. Watch out for arrows from outside," Zhao Jin commanded again.

Lu Da and Li Wu hurriedly acknowledged the order and led their men over to start hauling things away. They had only just begun when several thunderous crashes rang out — three great holes were smashed through the eastern courtyard wall, and one section directly collapsed by half. Bricks tumbled inward, and the household troops scrambled to dodge. Cries of alarm rose from within, while cheers erupted from outside.

"The four veteran squads, combine into one formation! Form a square, sixteen across and ten deep. Those wearing armor in the first rank, the rest arranged from tallest to shortest," Zhao Jin continued to bellow orders, unaffected by the commotion outside.

The veterans' drill was sufficiently practiced — merging squads posed no problem, because the time they had spent training together far exceeded the time they had spent in separate squads. Following Zhao Jin's instructions, the formation was quickly completed.

Among the household troops in the first rank, some wore padded cotton armor, others wore chainmail. Before Zhao Jin could speak, he heard a shrill, wretched wail suddenly rise from the bustling courtyard: "I don't want to die! I don't want to die! I quit! I want to go out and beg for mercy..."