Chapter 309: Let's Go

"I am Zhao Jin, I stand in the front row, I lead you forward, driving the river bandits into the Yellow River! Give the order — advance!" Zhao Jin roared at the top of his lungs, his voice hoarse.

"Advance!" the household troops bellowed in unison. The suona horns blared their urgent call, rhythmic drums began to beat, and Zhao Jin thrust his long spear forward. The entire Zhao Character Battalion roared again and strode forward.

As the Zhao Character Battalion advanced, the militia volunteers all cheered and howled wildly, following them forward. And those real and fake refugees who had surged up only to fall back now quickened their steps to scatter and flee.

The sun set in the west, the dying rays like blood. Beneath the sky-choking dust, the land below Xuzhou's walls seemed no longer of this world. From fervor to fear, from fear to despair — now, even in despair, they had no strength left to flee. Those cult followers disguised among the crowd as refugees, and those chosen backbone members, had either died in battle or routed. The men who had incited and threatened them were gone too. The refugees had utterly collapsed.

Those who still had a little strength either jumped straight into the moat, or used whatever they could find in their hands to give themselves a quick end. Sometimes, death truly was the better choice.

But far more people simply knelt there, lay sprawled there, lay collapsed there, wailing and sobbing, cursing heaven and earth, begging for mercy. Even more had no strength left to open their mouths.

Yet before their collapse, they had still exhausted every last effort to flee from the direction facing the Zhao Character Battalion. Every single one of them feared being crushed to pulp by that mountain-like square formation, becoming bloody mud beneath Xuzhou's walls.

The city wall, which had quieted somewhat, erupted once more in tremendous cheers. A few sharp-eyed individuals spotted a cavalry detachment circling around behind the Zhao Character Battalion, but before they got close enough to shout a warning, the cavalry that had been following behind the Zhao Character Battalion earlier moved to intercept from another direction. That stealthily approaching cavalry unit veered far away, not daring to take any hostile action.

"Damn it all, we played the villain for nothing!" Battalion Commander Wang on the city wall muttered. Beside him, Battalion Commander Liang wore a face full of bitter smiles.

Just earlier, they had held a blade to Wang Zhaojing's neck, directly offending him. By not sending troops out of the city to the rescue, they had also failed to save Zhao Jin and Chen Sheng, which in turn offended Zhao Zhentang and Chen Wu. Though the city wall now resounded with cheers, the crowd had split into several factions. Wang Zhaojing, with the Zhao Character Battalion's household troops, the Wang family's estate guards, and the city's street toughs, formed one group. Chen Wu, leading Xuzhou's constables and runners, formed another. Their attitudes toward the soldiers under these two Battalion Commanders were far from friendly.

Unfriendly as they were, there were no excessive actions. Everyone understood in their hearts that the safety of Xuzhou city came first. These two Battalion Commanders, though harsh and unfeeling, could not be said to have done wrong.

"Later, we'll go beg forgiveness from the Wang family's young master. Even kowtowing will be fine if it comes to that," Battalion Commander Liang said in a low voice.

Battalion Commander Wang nodded there, also lowering his voice: "Forget kowtowing, even taking a beating would be fine. If his old man stirs up some trouble with the civil officials, our General will suffer too!"

Not far away, Wang Zhaojing paid no heed to any of this. He simply leaned out over the battlements, his expression complex, even somewhat dazed and lost. He ignored those calling to him from behind.

Looking down from the commanding height of the city wall, with the Zhao Character Battalion as the core, a massive triangle had formed once again. The Zhao Character Battalion's great square formation was the spearhead, with the various militia volunteers following on both wings. This triangle was gradually flattening out, as the militia volunteers on both wings quickened their pace to catch up from the front. Any fool could see the current situation: the refugees were utterly defeated. All that was left was to pursue and kill the enemy; there was no need to worry about any danger.

After the Zhao Character Battalion's cavalry had driven off the enemy riders attempting a sneak attack, they once again fell in behind the main force. Dong Bingfeng rode alone, circling around to the front.

"Big Brother, this bunch of river bandits is indeed not ordinary. They actually had mounted bandit cavalry. But they no longer dared to fight. Just now, when we blocked their path from a distance, they ran off on their own." Dong Bingfeng spurred his horse to the right flank of the square formation and explained the situation to Zhao Jin's side.

Zhao Jin nodded. The tiger-tooth helmet he wore today was completely covered in fresh blood, already stained red. Zhao Jin pointed his long spear forward and said, "Bingfeng, lead the cavalry and charge to the front now. Wherever the refugees are thickest, charge there. Shatter them completely, drive them away. This bunch of refugees no longer dares to engage in battle. Go, quickly!"

"The mounted militia who've come from all over have long been impatient. I'll lead them right now!" Dong Bingfeng answered with a laugh from horseback, then wheeled his horse around and rode back.

These mounted militia volunteers had originally thought they would be the main force, that they would spearhead every attack. They never imagined that once the fighting started, they would just follow behind. Even when driving off the smaller groups of refugees, there had been no real combat — it was purely herding sheep. When they had faced the river bandits' cavalry earlier, it had only been a distant standoff, and the enemy had quickly dispersed. There had been almost no chance to fight. Now that they had received their orders, everyone grew excited. Whooping and hollering, they spurred their horses around the main force at the front and, on their own, spread out into a wide horizontal line, charging forward just like that.

A horizontal line formed by several hundred cavalry, stretched wide apart, far exceeded the width of an equal number of infantry. Hooves struck the earth with a heavy rhythm. Men sat high on horseback, looking down from above — such pressure was even more overwhelming, throwing the fleeing refugees ahead into even greater panic and confusion. Real or fake, everyone who could run fled as fast as their legs could carry them. But how could a man outrun a horse? Those cavalrymen did not even need to swing the weapons in their hands; simply driving their horses forward, the collision of the mounts alone dealt sufficient carnage.

This pursuit brought despair. The genuine refugees knelt down, lay down, helplessly waiting to die or live. They had no way to escape, no strength to run, no path left at all. By this point, they did not even have the chance to choose life or death.

Those "refugees" who had just been defeated by the Zhao Character Battalion's counterattack had thought they would escape with ease. Mixed among the great mass of refugees, they had a screen and a barrier. The Zhao Character Battalion's pursuers were also infantry, and it would be very difficult for them to catch up. They never imagined that at this moment, the Zhao Character Battalion would actually send in the cavalry they had held in reserve all along.

Driven by this cavalry unit, the human sea of refugees churned and surged. But for the Smelling Incense cult followers and those backbone members hidden within, it was no longer a screen — it was a disaster.

Some gave up on fleeing, others ran madly. Everyone was like headless flies. When someone blocked the escape route behind them, those behind would hack and slash wildly with their weapons. Some refugees were cut down to the ground, while others resisted in desperation, making the situation increasingly chaotic. The cult followers and backbone members, who had still maintained some organization, also began to scatter and rout.

"Both the Luo brothers are done for. Let's go!" Hou Wu and Xia Zhongjin, along with their bodyguards, had already mounted their horses. The horses had long been prepared not far away. Refugees were also running toward their position, but as soon as any drew near, the bodyguards cut them down without mercy. Behind them, Xu Hongju was also surrounded by over twenty sturdy, mounted men, well-protected.

When Hou Wu spoke of the Luo brothers' fate, there was not a trace of regret or grief in his voice; instead, he seemed almost to be gloating.

Xia Zhongjin glanced back, then turned around and said, "The Luo brothers thought that because they'd spent time in the ranks and had even served as some kind of battalion commander, they were always being wronged. They never stopped to think how many men like them we have in our cult."

"First, escort the Second Master away. And watch your words — don't let him think we're just enjoying the show," Hou Wu said in a deep voice.

"Enjoying the show, my ass! Those were over a thousand seeds! How many were lost? How many can even make it back? And we were supposed to cripple the Zhao Character Battalion — damn it all, we're the ones who got crippled first." Xia Zhongjin cursed bitterly, then shook his reins and rode toward Xu Hongju.

Xu Hongju's face was so dark with gloom it was nearly black. Seeing Hou Wu and Xia Zhongjin approach, he immediately said in a rough voice, "You've come at the right time. We still have nearly a hundred cavalry here. Rally the troops and launch a counterattack — we definitely have a chance to win."

"Second Master, let's go. This force can no longer be controlled. Those men from the canal transport have never been reliable. We must not end up without even a single boat," Hou Wu said earnestly, a hint of impatience already creeping into his tone.

Had this been earlier, Xu Hongju would have roared in fury. But now, he could not muster his temper. He suddenly raised both hands to the sky and said, "So many men lost, and yet Xuzhou still stands here perfectly fine. How can I face my brother when I return? These men were all painstakingly trained by everyone's hard work, and now they've just scattered and are gone. We... we charge back, rally the men, and then leave!"

"Second Master, they can make it back on their own. Every one of them is loyal and devout. As long as they keep their lives today, those who can return will return. Along the way, the various lodge masters and recruiters will receive them. They've been tempered in battle beneath these city walls today — from now on, they'll be able-bodied heroes we can use. Let's go!" Hou Wu continued earnestly.

Their group was still relatively orderly. The great streams of refugees fleeing chaotically in every direction seemed to have found a rallying point and all began surging toward them.

"Let's go! If we don't leave now, our force will be overrun by this rabble, and then we'll be in big trouble. It's getting dark too — crossing the Yellow River at night is far too risky!" Xia Zhongjin had already drawn his blade and laid it across his saddle, shouting as he spoke.

Xu Hongju, on horseback over there, shuddered. The sun had already half-set behind the mountains; the shadowed areas were growing very dark. Looking at the chaotic scene, Xu Hongju gritted his teeth and gripped the reins. "We will come back again. Go, go!" he said.

By the last word, Xu Hongju was already shouting, clearly furious and flustered. Their group of several dozen men spurred their horses and rode into the distance.

Only after the sun had set and even the sunset glow had vanished did the Zhao Character Battalion halt their pursuit and begin returning to the base of Xuzhou's walls. The cavalry returned a short while later than they did. By this time, within a five-li radius of Xuzhou city, there were no longer any organized refugees.

The soldiers of the Zhao Character Battalion were utterly exhausted. The armor on their bodies and the weapons in their hands felt unbearably heavy. The militia volunteers behind them had also lost their excitement and were merely murmuring in low voices.

"Bingfeng, you can't rest yet. Assign men to keep watch on the perimeter, and have the wagons brought over," Zhao Jin said. Every joint in his body ached without exception. The intense battle and the long march had drained his physical strength far too greatly.

"For the seriously wounded refugees, give them a finishing stroke. Those who can still live, herd them into one group. Our own wounded, no matter how light or severe, must all be taken in!" Zhao Jin shouted. This order was issued to everyone, and naturally, no one had any objection. They roared their agreement.