Chapter 242: The Fifth Pass

Hongwu Year Twelve, the seventh day of the sixth month.

At dawn, the rebels at the Fifth Pass had already sensed something was wrong.

Last night the shouts and killings from the direction of the Fourth Pass lasted a full hour, and the flames reddened half the sky.

Commander Tuo Huo Chi stood on the stockade wall, his face so gloomy it seemed about to drip water.

"Report..."

A scout scrambled up, rolling and crawling, and shouted.

"The Fourth Pass… the Fourth Pass has fallen! The defending troops of over two thousand were annihilated by fifteen hundred, five hundred captured, General Duoer Zhi was taken alive!"

Tuo Huo Chi swayed his body, braced himself against the wall before he could stand steady.

Na Lin Qi Zhan, the seven passes interlock like corners, easy to defend but hard to attack.

He had garrisoned the Fifth Pass for five years and had never imagined a day it would be breached.

"Ming army… how many have arrived?" he asked hoarsely.

"At least… at least twenty thousand! Flying the 'Wu' banner, they are the personal troops of King Wu Zhu Yong!" the scout trembled.

Tuo Huo Chi inhaled a breath of cold air.

A man's name, a tree's shadow.

King Wu Zhu Yong's reputation had already spread across the Grassland: three hammer blows broke the gate of Kaiping City, one hammer blast opened the gate of Helin City, a hammer in front of the formation killed Yesu, chased the fleeing north for eight hundred li, and terrified the remnants of Northern Yuan.

Later it was said he persuaded Wang Baobao to surrender, led five thousand men to sweep Buyuerhai, and directly wiped out Northern Yuan.

Later still, Nüzhen, Goryeo, Wa Country… one after another were trampled flat by this killing god.

In recent years, every country of the Western Regions that heard the words "King Wu" felt a chill of fear.

Tuo Huo Chi had thought this killing god would stay in the south, but did not expect him to come personally to Taozhou.

"Quick… quickly request aid from the other passes, the main Great Ming force is at the Fourth Pass, let them dispatch troops to encircle at once!" Tuo Huo Chi roared hoarsely.

"Yes!"

The scout had just left when another scout rushed forward.

"Report... we have spotted Great Ming troops in the eastern valley, about three thousand, moving toward the rear side of our pass!"

Tuo Huo Chi's complexion changed.

"The western side also reported! About three thousand as well!"

"Front… the front has a large contingent of Great Ming troops approaching! Numbers… at least five thousand!"

Tuo Huo Chi's legs went weak, and he almost collapsed onto the ground.

Three‑sided encirclement?

No, there is also a cliff side, which is a dead end.

"Hold the pass to the death! Send the order down, hold the pass to the death! Reinforcements will arrive soon!" he snarled.

Yet he knew in his heart that the other passes were probably also too occupied to help.

Since King Wu has arrived, he could not possibly focus only on the Fourth Pass.

……

At Chen Hour, five li ahead of the Fifth Pass.

Zhu Yong spurred his horse onto an earthen slope, holding the topographic map just delivered by Wang Gui, and stared foolishly at the pass built against the mountain in the distance.

The Fifth Pass is more treacherous than the Fourth Pass.

Both stockade walls are piled with huge stones, about Three Zhang high and over two Zhang thick.

The walls are studded with arrow towers and catapults, and behind the walls the roofs of the barracks can be faintly seen.

Both sides of the pass are steep slopes, impossible to climb.

Behind is a ten‑thousand‑zhang abyss, with only a narrow goat‑path for passage, but the rebels have blocked it dead.

"Easy to defend, hard to attack, Prince, this place is far harder to fight than the Fourth Pass," Wang Gui said with a frown.

Zhu Yong nodded without speaking.

He actually knew very clearly in his heart.

In his previous life studying history, he remembered that the rebels, relying on terrain, held off the Great Ming army for a full three months.

In the end it was only by sowing division and coordinating inside and out that they captured it.

But that was the Great Ming of history.

Now the Great Ming is no longer the Great Ming of history.

He turned his head and glanced at the five thousand Longxiang Army soldiers behind him.

These soldiers had fought alongside him for all these years.

From Kaiping to Helin, from Helin to Buyuerhai, from Buyuerhai to Nüzhen, Goryeo, Wa Country, South Sea…

Years of bloody battles, surviving after a hundred wars.

What kind of hard battle hasn't he seen?

"Send the order down," Zhu Yong said naively, "the artillery battalion moves forward, bombard the stockade walls. Keep blasting until they are breached."

"Yes!"

Twenty Hongwu heavy cannons were hauled up.

These are the new‑type cannons first equipped in the tenth year of Hongwu, with barrels cast from refined steel, lighter, more durable, and with longer range than the earlier bronze cannons.

Each cannon requires four mules to pull.

The gunners skillfully set up, aimed, and loaded the cannons.

Zhu Yong, astride his horse, stood behind the artillery formation, watching the distant stockade wall.

"Prince, the rebels seem to be gathering," Wang Gui said.

Zhu Yong nodded and said, "Let them gather; when the blast opens, we'll take them all in one go."

"Boom…"

The first round of bombardment began.

Twenty heavy cannons fired together, shaking the earth and mountains.

Cannonballs whistled as they slammed into the fort wall, massive stones cracked, and debris flew everywhere.

The rebels on the wall screamed and fell in droves; some were smashed into mush by cannonballs, others were struck by debris and tumbled down the wall.

Tuo Huo Chi hid behind the arrow tower, his face ashen.

"What kind of cannon is this?"

Its range is at least three li, far beyond the catapults they use.

Its power is terrifyingly great; the stone‑built wall is pierced by a single huge hole with each shot.

"Fire arrows! Fire quickly!" he roared.

Arrows fell like rain.

But the distance was too great; most arrows fell to the ground halfway, and the few that reached the Ming army formation were easily blocked by shield soldiers.

"Boom…"

Second round of bombardment.

The cracks in the wall grew larger, and several sections began to collapse.

"Boom…"

Third round of bombardment.

A section of the wall finally gave way, collapsing seven or eight zhang wide with a "Boom—".

"Kill… charge out! Fight them!" Tuo Huo Chi's eyes reddened.

The pass's main gate opened, and over three thousand rebel cavalry surged out, howling as they charged toward the Ming army's artillery formation.

Zhu Yong's eyes lit up.

"Flintlock Gunmen, form ranks!"

Three thousand Flintlock Gunmen quickly advanced, forming three lines.

The front line crouched, the middle line bent, the rear line stood upright.

The dark, gaping muzzles aimed at the charging rebel cavalry.

Three Hundred Steps, Two Hundred Steps, One Hundred Step…

"Fire!"

"Bang bang bang..."

Gunpowder smoke filled the air, bullets fell like rain.

The rebel cavalry at the front fell from their horses one after another, their wails filling the air.

Before they could react, the second line fired again.

Immediately followed by the third line.

The three lines fired in rotation, unceasing.

This is the Longxiang Army's ultimate technique, honed for nine years, already perfected.

When the over three thousand rebel cavalry closed within fifty steps, nearly half had already fallen.

The remaining ones finally got scared, turned their horses and tried to flee.

"Pursue!" Zhu Yong ordered.

The three thousand Flintlock Gunmen sheathed their guns, drew their Waist Knives, and pursued the routed troops toward the pass.

Blade flashes glittered, the wails never ceased.

The routed troops were caught up, each receiving a slash, and were cut down to the ground.

Zhu Yong spurred his horse forward, Double Hammers in hand.

His horse was swift; in an instant it surged to the front of the routed troops.

One hammer swung horizontally, sending three rebel cavalry flying, their chests shattered.

A reverse swing delivered another hammer, flipping two rebels with their horses onto the ground.

His Imperial Troops, Zhang Wu and Chen Heng, followed closely, wielding Sword and Spear together, cutting the rebels into disarray.

Tuo Huo Chi stood on the half‑collapsed wall, watching helplessly as his cavalry were slaughtered.

"Retreat… retreat back into the fort!" he roared.

But it was already too late.

Zhu Yong charged too fast, surging into the pass together with the routed troops.

The rebels inside the wall still tried to resist, but who could stop this killing god?

Zhu Yong swung his Double Hammers; each strike sent three or four rebels flying.

No one survived a hammer blow; a hit meant death, a graze meant maiming.

A horizontal swing shattered the chests of five rebels.

A reverse hammer burst three rebels' heads.

The left hammer flung two, the right hammer knocked down three.

He kept cutting his way forward, leaving a field of corpses behind.

Fresh blood splattered his body and face, yet he didn't even bother to wipe it off.

These years, he had long become accustomed to it.