Chapter 855: Someone Shouted

By the time the Zhao Battalion's musketeers and archers reached the front of the formation and began firing in pursuit, the last semblance of order in the government army collapsed. If they didn't run faster, how could they dodge these damned firearms and arrows? They had to run faster — even if they couldn't dodge, at least there were still comrades behind them to take the hit!

Everyone thought this way. Each man ran faster and faster, the formation growing more and more impossible to maintain. Officers still tried to shout orders, and the battle supervisors beheaded a few men, but very quickly, even the supervisors couldn't hold back the comrades fleeing toward them. Some of the supervisors were even hacked down and killed on the spot. In the end, even the supervisors were running.

The main body of the government army had become an avalanche. Some fled left, some fled right, but most fled straight back. In the distance, they could see their own cavalry force behind them. Seeing this, the government soldiers' footsteps couldn't help but slow. If that cavalry force acted as battle supervisors and forced them to turn back around, then there really was nothing they could do. What now?

Just as they hesitated, they saw the cavalry force ahead wheel their horses around and gallop off just like that. Damn it — when it was time to fight, you bastards hid in the rear, but when it's time to run, you're out in front! Every government soldier cursed aloud. They understood perfectly: the cavalry was the commanding general's lifeline. If the cavalry left, the commanding general had certainly left too — maybe it was even the general who gave the order.

Since even the commanding general had fled the field, then we'd better get moving too! That was what every man thought. By this point, even the low-ranking officers who still had the will to organize resistance had lost their courage and fighting spirit. The entire field collapsed. The entire field fled.

"We will withdraw to Jining, hold the city and await reinforcements, and rally the scattered troops!" Seeing the situation collapse, Baoding Regional Commander Lu Qin's expression flickered through several changes before he quickly made his decision. At that moment, Mobile Corps Commander Wei Pingfang looked at Lu Qin with eyes full of admiration. No wonder he could rise to the rank of Regional Commander — he truly understood what mattered most.

As long as everyone's personal guard retainers remained intact, then even if the court punished them, it wouldn't be too severe. At worst, they'd be transferred to a frontier garrison to serve as military officers of the same rank, or perhaps they wouldn't even be reprimanded at all, and would still have a chance to rally and recover. But if even their personal guard cavalry were completely wiped out, the court would show not a shred of mercy and would immediately apply the harshest penalties.

Suppressing the rebels was public duty; whether they could keep their own positions was private interest. Move fast. If they couldn't hold Jining, then they'd go straight back to Baoding.

"Cavalry, take the field! Pursue the routed enemy! Don't focus on killing — just rout them, drive them as far away as possible. But the enemy's encampment and baggage train must be seized, and we must capture as many of the laborers over there as we can. We can't have come here for nothing this time." The situation on the battlefield was already clear. Zhao Jin smiled as he gave the order to the mounted retainers.

The cavalry company commanders' faces also showed excitement and relief. Grinning, they said, "The prize money's all gone to the pike retainers — we're going to go grab a share of the glory!"

With a single shout, the cavalry surged forth and directly entered the battlefield. Once the cavalry entered the field, the government troops scattered even faster. Some who could run no more fell to their knees weeping and begging for their lives. They'd thought death was certain, but to their surprise, no one paid them any attention at all. They would often get up and keep running. As for those who tried to seize an opening for a sneak attack, their only path was death.

The Zhao Battalion's cavalry roamed the battlefield. Whenever they spotted an enemy unit that showed signs of regrouping, they would charge and scatter it. By the time the main force had mostly finished and even the pike square formations began advancing at a marching pace, the mounted retainers whistled repeatedly and headed straight for the government army's temporary encampment ahead.

"Cease pursuit!" Zhao Jin's order went out. The drums fell silent, the suona horns sounded the signal, and the flags waved without pause.

The battlefield instantly quieted. Some of the musket retainers simply dropped to the ground and sat, their backsides hitting the dirt. They had done far more running than the pike retainers, and had been constantly reloading and firing. One man, after sitting down, muttered to himself, "Now I get it — no wonder we musketeers earn more than those pike men."

Meng Zhiqi heard this too. He couldn't be bothered to scold anyone; he just stood there grinning foolishly. His face was smeared black and red — the gunpowder smoke was filthy. But Meng Zhiqi's heart was filled with boundless satisfaction. He finally understood the true purpose of the musket, and from now on he would know how to train with it. He could even foresee the future position of firearms within the Zhao Battalion.

"We won! We won!" Someone shouted at the top of his lungs. The hoarse cry was more like a howl. This howl, brimming with excitement, shattered the silence over the battlefield. Everyone began cheering at the top of their voices.

"Zhao Battalion must win!" someone began shouting. Very quickly, the shout changed to "Zhao Battalion, ten thousand victories!" and in a flash, only two words remained: "Ten thousand victories!"

"Ten thousand victories!" The shout rang to the heavens. Some shouted and laughed; some shouted and wept.

Zhao Jin sat on horseback, smiling as he watched the scene before him. His heart, too, was filled with satisfaction and joy. This was a solid, undeniable victory. From the very beginning, this battle — or rather, this entire campaign — had been without a single error, unfolding perfectly according to his plan. If this continued, his confidence in achieving his goal would only grow greater and greater.

He could see Chen Sheng take off his helmet and raise his pike in salute. Over there, Shi Manqiang, and over there, Ji Xiang — they were all doing the same. His own brothers. Zhao Jin understood their intent. Smiling, he waved his hand, then turned his head toward Lu Da, who was also cheering, and shouted, "Lu Da, ride over here and hold my banner!"

Everyone knew Lu Da was the Zhao Battalion's first-ever standard-bearer — a resounding honor. Now Zhao Jin was calling for him again. Lu Da immediately ran over, brimming with excitement. A personal guard at his side gave up his mount. The current standard-bearer, somewhat reluctantly, handed the banner over to Lu Da. The great Zhao banner, black-bordered on a red field, was raised upright by Lu Da, who then rode behind Zhao Jin to the center of the formation.

At the sight of Zhao Jin appearing, at the sight of that great Zhao Battalion banner fluttering in the wind, every man was stirred. Zhao Jin wanted to say a few words, but when he opened his mouth, he was drowned out by the mountain-roaring, sea-surging cheers. He could only smile and wave in acknowledgment.

"Ten thousand victories!" "Lord Jin, ten thousand victories!" Everyone was shouting at the top of their lungs. No one knew who started it, but someone began shouting, "Long live! Long live Lord Jin!" More and more people took up the cry. Zhao Jin did not stop them. He simply waved like this, letting his subordinate officers and retainers vent the exultation in their hearts.

Not long after, the cavalry sent a man back. His report was simple: the government army's temporary encampment had been taken. The baggage, the civilian laborers — all manpower and materiel were under strict guard. The government troops had not returned to that encampment to make a stand; they had simply scattered and fled.

By this time, the joy in their hearts had been fully vented, and the battlefield grew quiet. The retainers who had just been cheering wildly now became much more subdued. In this battle, they had finally realized just how strong they were. That government army had looked even tougher and more disciplined than the Xuzhou troops, yet before the Zhao Battalion, they had been so utterly fragile. The victory had come so easily. All they'd had to do was march here, then fight, then win — a complete and total victory. Faced with this fact, every man grew confident.

Zhao Jin called the first company of his personal guard to his side and shouted, "I will make you and your families live better! I will lead you to even greater victories!"

"Follow Lord Jin, be loyal to Lord Jin, and we are invincible under heaven!" Ji Xiang bellowed at the top of his lungs.

"Lord Jin, ten thousand victories! Lord Jin, ten thousand victories!" The scene, which had just quieted a little, was stirred back into a boil. Everyone shouted and yelled. Fortunately, with a bit of cooling off, fewer people were shouting "long live," though some still were.

Ji Xiang was quite good at coming up with short, powerful chants, most of them directed at Zhao Jin, and he had a habit of leading everyone in shouting them when the crowd was large. Zhao Jin had mentioned this once or twice before, but later couldn't be bothered to say anything more. Still, it had to be said — in a moment like this, doing so was indeed very stirring.

"Short rest. Clean up the battlefield." Once everyone had calmed down, the work that needed doing still had to be done. The rear-rank retainers from each unit, the First Great Battalion, and the civilian laborers all threw themselves into the work of clearing the battlefield. The front-rank retainers, the musket retainers, and the archers, however, earned the privilege of resting.

Wails and cries rose from the battlefield. Many old hands in the government army had played dead to hide. Who could have imagined the Zhao Battalion would move so efficiently, and without the slightest sign of resting? They'd won and immediately started clearing the field — couldn't they even take a breather? Now there was no chance of escape.

Aside from these old hands among the soldiers, there were also those lightly or seriously wounded who hadn't been able to flee in time. All of them felt doom upon them. Beyond wailing, they had no other emotion left.

For those gravely wounded on the ground who had lost all ability to move — whether they could be saved or not — the Zhao Battalion's method was very simple: grant them a quick end. This, at least, did not inspire fear. Among the dying, some even felt grateful, for at least they no longer had to suffer in agony. As for the lightly wounded and the uninjured, the Zhao Battalion did not kill them. They were herded together, made to surrender their weapons, and then ordered to sit clustered on the ground.

"Could it be these rebel bastards want to recruit us?"

Old hands will be old hands. The moment they saw their lives weren't in immediate danger, their minds immediately started working.

"They probably won't kill us. They'll keep us for hard labor, or as hostages, something like that." This guess drew quite a few responses. If they were going to kill people, wouldn't it have been faster to do it just now? Only, after that, no one dared make another sound. The Zhao Battalion retainers lashed them hard a few times with their pike shafts, and they fell silent at once.

As soon as the battlefield cleanup here was finished, the retainers of the First Great Battalion, together with the militia and civilian laborers accompanying the army, immediately hurried toward the government army's encampment. There were still large numbers of captured civilian laborers and supplies waiting to be dealt with over there.

"Be careful with those cannons. Such heavy things — don't let them fall and injure anyone." No one expected that the thing Zhao Jin cared about most was those few cannons that had already been disabled. The government army's artillery position was a scene of utter wreckage, a place even the government troops themselves couldn't be bothered with, yet Zhao Jin led the musket retainer company there.

The civilian laborers who had stayed behind drove the large carts over, shouting as they hoisted the cannon barrels onto the carts. The blacksmiths accompanying the Zhao Battalion also came over, frowning as they examined the touchholes to see if the iron nails driven into them could be pulled out.

The foreigner Louis and his servant were also at his side. Zhao Jin looked at these few filthy cannons, the smile on his face impossible to hide. He cleared his throat several times before he could speak: "Louis, you've just seen these cannons in action. Can you build that kind of field gun — the kind used on the battlefield?"

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