Chapter 947

Sun Chuanting had already turned and descended the city wall. The others followed. After walking a few steps, Sun Chuanting looked back at the gentry on the ramparts, who were still chattering excitedly. He sighed and said, "The eunuch faction monopolizes power and throws governance into chaos. The Liao garrison is utterly rotten. The great turmoil in the southwest remains unquelled. Now Shandong suffers this scourge of refugees. The realm is restless — great calamity looms for the Great Ming!"

"Young master, then we leave today. The city gates are open for two shichen today," a personal guard said hurriedly. Since they had no faith in the government troops' battle with the refugees, this Jining city was no longer safe.

"We leave. Pack up and go at once," Sun Chuanting said in a deep voice.

"Young master, if you put it that way, won't the refugees become a great disaster? If they truly seize Shandong, then the Northern and Southern Metropolitan Regions..."

"They won't become any great disaster. With Xuzhou there, with Zhao Jin there, all the bitter scheming of these mere refugees might very well just be making a wedding dress for that Zhao Jin of Xuzhou!"

Hearing this judgment, the personal guards all subconsciously breathed a sigh of relief. Sun Chuanting glanced at them, smiled wryly, and shook his head. "The refugees are a great disaster, but that Zhao Jin is an even greater calamity!"

The group fell silent. Sun Chuanting walked a few steps, then stopped, as if having made some resolution. "In that case, we shall go to Xuzhou and wait. Let us see how this catastrophe finally ends!"

Everyone assumed the refugees would panic when the government troops arrived — forming up in front of their camp in utter chaos, their ranks in disarray. Then they would simply unleash the horses to charge, scatter one unit, and drive the routed refugee bandits to smash into the other formations, shattering and wrecking the entire force. This was what they called "herding sheep." Most pacification campaigns went this way — it was the simplest thing in the world.

But what Regional Commander Yang Guodong had not expected was that, just as they were about to reach the destination, he saw the refugee bandits had already arrayed themselves there to meet them. Though from a distance it looked like a noisy, chaotic mess, it still made the Shandong government troops extremely nervous. What if, while their own formation was still unsteady, the enemy came charging at them in a wild rush, catching them off guard and plunging them into a chaotic melee? That would be tens of thousands against a few thousand, with the government troops holding no advantage whatsoever — a colossal disaster.

Yang Guodong was at least a man seasoned by years in the ranks. Cursing, he dispatched his personal guards, household troops, and cavalry to form up and charge to the front. It was not to assault the refugee bandits' assembled formation, but to serve as skirmishers and support. If the enemy tried to move first, the cavalry would charge them immediately to blunt their momentum.

However, the refugee bandits clearly understood nothing of military tactics. Even when the government troops fell into some disarray, they did not seize the chance to strike, merely waiting there in place. This allowed Shandong Regional Commander Yang Guodong to breathe a sigh of relief.

"Damn it all, seeing them hold still, I thought they had some discipline. Turns out they're just stupid!" Yang Guodong wiped the sweat from his forehead and laughed loudly. The personal guards around him all laughed along to humor him.

From the march out of Jining city until now, everyone had only eaten a few cakes supplied by Jining along the way to stave off hunger. But with the forced march and forming ranks, that bit of food had long been burned through. Regional Commander Yang Guodong and the battalion officers at every level paid it no mind — what did an empty stomach matter? The refugees across the way probably hadn't eaten in days. Once they wiped the enemy out, the city would send wine and meat as a reward, and everyone would feast.

Yet looking at this enemy formation, everyone was privately worried. Could they hold out on empty stomachs? But when they saw the enemy's response, they set their minds at ease once more.

"All battalions, form ranks! Keep a sharp watch everywhere! Herding sheep is herding sheep, but with so many bandits, if you get sloppy, don't let the sheep take a bite out of you. We don't want that old man Yang Zhaoji laughing at us!" Yang Guodong roared. The orderlies below shouted their acknowledgment and rode off in all directions.

Shandong Regional Commander Yang Guodong called out, and immediately his personal soldiers brought over a wooden stand. Normally, one observed the battle array by standing on the saddle, but Yang Guodong's frame was so massive his mount could not bear it. For convenience, they had simply constructed a wooden platform.

"It's truly so much hotter here than in Dengzhou!" Yang Guodong grumbled, shading his eyes with his hand as he gazed toward the opposite side.

The two sides were just over five hundred paces apart, clearly visible to each other. The government troops' formation was nearly complete. However decrepit the government troops might be, they were still trained and still had foot drill. Several thousand men arrayed for battle, every battalion making ready — a grim and imposing aura naturally emanated from them.

The refugee formation across the way naturally felt this grim pressure. A stir of unrest could be seen among them; the front ranks were very unsteady.

Seeing this, Regional Commander Yang Guodong smiled. No matter how strange and uncanny things seemed, the enemy was still just a rabble in the end.

"Have the cavalry prepare to advance. If they find an opening, drive straight in and cause as much chaos as possible. Once they breach a gap, the main force will press forward to finish them. If there is no opening, they are to return to the main body for further orders," Shandong Regional Commander Yang Guodong commanded in a deep voice.

The cavalry under Yang Guodong's command numbered just over five hundred, and that already included his own personal soldiers and guards. The figure sounded small, inconspicuous among six thousand government troops, and utterly negligible before the tens of thousands across the field. But anyone who understood military strategy and warfare knew that these few hundred cavalry were the mightiest force on this battlefield — the hammer that could decide everything in a single blow!

Men on horseback, moving in formation — let alone wretched, world-ignorant commoner refugees, even the rank-and-file soldiers in the government army would turn pale with terror when facing a charge by formed cavalry. For these few hundred cavalry to face infantry — to say they could fight one against ten was no exaggeration at all.

The personal guards, household troops, and cavalry were the commander's fundamental core strength, kept at his side to await orders. Once the command was given, the cavalrymen made brief preparations and then rode out to battle.

The cavalrymen shouted continuously, brandishing their weapons and banners. A burst of cheers and applause erupted from the government troops' formation. Regional Commander Yang Guodong smiled, narrowing his eyes. The cavalry unit he had previously dispatched to Baoding Regional Commander Lu Qin had suffered considerable losses, but the large numbers of soldiers fleeing over from the Liao garrison had allowed him to conveniently replenish his ranks on the spot. Now, the cavalry under his command was actually somewhat larger than before.

This cavalry was a commanding general's very lifeblood. The more personal soldiers and cavalry one had, the heavier one's weight with the higher-ups. After finishing off the refugees this time and earning great merit, he would use that merit to recruit more cavalry. Riding the wave of success, he would see if he could secure a general's rank for himself. Then, before others and behind his back, he would be addressed as "Grand Commander" — what glory and prestige that would be!

According to the current practice in the Great Ming, sixty percent of the entire army's actually disbursed pay and provisions was spent on the cavalry. Of course, since a military officer's personal soldiers and household troops were all cavalry, they naturally had to be cultivated with priority.

Well-supplied and thoroughly trained, in contrast to the beggarly appearance of the infantry, these cavalrymen were highly disciplined in mounted combat. After receiving their orders, the cavalry under Shandong Regional Commander Yang Guodong's command signaled with their banners and rode out of the formation with whistles and calls. Though their own main body cheered loudly and the cavalrymen themselves whooped and brandished their weapons, their movements were extremely cautious. There was no reckless, unrestrained galloping about. Instead, they rode out at a canter, roughly aligning into formation during the slow run, and then advanced forward.

Charging at the very front was the head of Regional Commander Yang Guodong's personal soldiers. He had not, after all, placed the Liao troops he had later gathered into the vanguard. If you wanted men to stake their lives and fight to the death, you still had to let your own lads charge ahead and lead the way.

As the five hundred cavalry advanced across the battlefield, they gradually formed into ten columns. Two columns thrust forward, while the remaining columns spread out on both wings in a wild-goose formation, slowly accelerating as they went.

This coordination had long since become second nature. Those thrusting forward in the front ranks were all armored cavalry, many of them also carrying wooden shields for cover. In the rear ranks, many cavalrymen had already taken up their bows, ready to loose arrows from horseback at any moment. Though their accuracy was nothing to speak of, looking at the enemy refugee formation where men stood packed shoulder to shoulder — a dark, crushing mass of tens of thousands — it would be hard to miss.

Their speed gradually increased. The leading cavalry chiliarch brandished his long saber. The two front columns maintained their speed, while the other columns began to accelerate. The original wild-goose formation gradually flattened out, the ten columns coming onto a single line. By now, the distance was just over a hundred paces. The government cavalry in the front ranks all lifted their feet, preparing to dig their spurs into their mounts' flanks and send their horses crashing into the enemy in a charge.

At this distance, the turmoil in the front ranks of the refugee bandit formation was clearly visible. Even government troops could not hold steady in the face of a cavalry charge, let alone these ragtag refugee bandits.

Yet the government cavalry charging to the front did not smile. Because although the refugee bandit formation was in chaos, no one was fleeing. Such behavior was somewhat unsettling. The sharp-eyed cavalrymen could also see many refugee bandits muttering something. A single person speaking might not be noticeable at this distance, but with so many muttering, there should have been a droning buzz of noise — a sound that even the thunder of hooves might not fully drown out. Yet now, there was hardly any sound at all.

Suddenly, the urgent clangor of gongs erupted — not from just one place, but a crashing din from all over. In military commands, the "sounding of metal" to recall the troops meant striking gongs. Though the government cavalry could all tell that this sound was coming from the opposite side, they were all, by instinct, momentarily stunned.

The very next moment after the gongs sounded, the refugee formation at the front suddenly shot up to twice, even three times its height!

This abrupt change caught both the government cavalry and their horses somewhat off guard. Some mounts were already spooked, and their riders had to struggle to keep them under control.

The chiliarch leading the cavalry was not flustered. He raised his long saber and held it still. The cavalry's speed slowed. Fortunately, they had not yet begun their final sprint, so although the formation grew somewhat ragged, it had not lost control and could still be reined in.

In that instant just now, whether it was Regional Commander Yang Guodong's main body or the cavalry charging ahead, they had all truly believed for a moment that the Smelling Incense Sect possessed some demonic art, capable of conjuring unnatural scenes upon the battlefield. But on closer inspection, those refugees had merely picked up long poles from the ground and then raised them upright.

Southern Shandong produced bamboo, but to procure this many bamboo poles — the Smelling Incense Sect and these refugee bandits had truly gone to some trouble. Even without looking closely, one thing was obvious: the tips of those bamboo poles had all been sharpened into slanted points, turned into bamboo spears capable of stabbing and killing.

"Maitreya descends to the world! Die for immortal ascension!" Within the formation, someone began to shout at the top of their lungs, their voice tearing. At every interval, others took up the bellowing cry, and very soon, everyone was shouting it.

"Die for immortal ascension!" "Die for immortal ascension!" With so many people roaring in unison, the sheer magnitude of the sound was overwhelming. Even the hoofbeats of the government cavalry were drowned out. Many horses, terrified, began to buck and thrash uncontrollably. A few cavalrymen, their luck run out this time, were thrown directly from their mounts.

Thanks to the friend "Drunken Dream, Remnant Beauty" for the tip. It's the end of the month — please support Great Ming Warlord with subscriptions, monthly tickets, and tips. Please give generously!