MLMD -Chapter 145 The Cannons Unleash Their Power

Roluohun and Ka’erchuhun led their two thousand troops in a hurried march, finally arriving at the battlefield, only to be met with a scene that left them utterly stunned.

“Ha Feng’a! You dog of a servant, what are you doing?!” The hot-tempered Ka’erchuhun shouted first.

Ha Feng’a shivered when he saw Roluohun and Ka’erchuhun approaching. He knew today’s defeat would be impossible to cover up. Spurring his horse forward, he approached them with a miserable expression and reported, “Reporting to the two Beizi… your servant has brought shame upon you. Just now… I lost an entire Niulu unit!”

Roluohun and Ka’erchuhun scanned the battlefield. Seeing the utter chaos and devastation, their faces darkened. Roluohun said, “Ha Feng’a… you really outdid yourself. How long has it been, and you’ve already lost a Niulu? Fortunately, Ama isn’t here; otherwise, he would have been furious enough to die of anger. Now, tell me—how exactly did you lose this Niulu?”

“Chaa…”

Ha Feng’a didn’t dare waste a moment and quickly recounted the battle. Finally, he gritted his teeth and said, “Your servants never imagined that those Ming dogs’ fire lances could be so powerful, shooting so far. Two Beizi, it’s good you’re here. You supervise this battle, and I will personally lead my men to kill all those Ming dogs!”

Though only nineteen, Roluohun was a capable military strategist. After a brief pause, he said, “Very well. This attack must be executed with all our strength. The Ming dogs’ fire lances are formidable, but not invincible. Ha Feng’a, you were careless before; otherwise, you wouldn’t have lost so badly. This time, my third brother and I will cover your flank. You lead your main unit and attack again. I want to see just how formidable those Ming fire lances really are!”

“Understood!” Ha Feng’a’s ferocity flared. A glint of murderous intent flashed in his eyes as he shouted, “Beizi, rest assured! I will not stop until every last one of those Ming dogs is dead!”

“Good. Go!” Roluohun nodded. “If you succeed in defeating them, I will report your merit to Ama. If you fail… you know the consequences.” His face carried a grim severity as he spoke.

“Chaa!”

Ha Feng’a, face brimming with murderous intent, hurriedly left with several Niulu officers under his command.

Unlike the panicked Jurchens, the Ming army’s formation displayed a different scene. After annihilating a Jurchen Niulu, the soldiers’ morale soared. Their fear of the Jurchens gradually dissipated. For the first time, they realized that these Tartars were no great warriors—hit by lead bullets, they too could die, they too felt pain, and they too would flee.

Seeing his troops shouting in triumph, Yue Yang smiled. He knew that after today’s battle, these soldiers would quickly transform into a true army. An army that has never seen blood can never become elite, no matter how much it trains.

Looking around, Yue Yang issued orders: “Feng Xiaoming, have the two front formations fall back immediately, and move the two rear formations to the front!”

“Yes, sir!”

Feng Xiaoming immediately understood Yue Yang’s intention. He planned to let the soldiers in the rear formations also experience combat. Without delay, the front two formations retreated, while the rear two moved forward quickly. Cavalry on both sides heightened vigilance to prevent the enemy from taking advantage.

In less than a quarter of an hour, the four formations had swapped positions. No sooner had they re-formed than the mournful sound of horns arose from the front—another Jurchen attack was imminent.

From his observation platform, Yue Yang immediately noticed the Jurchens’ movements. Through his telescope, he saw that the Jurchens had become noticeably more cautious.

Ahead, massive square vehicles—called shield carts—slowly advanced. Yue Yang counted roughly thirty. Each cart bore several unfamiliar flags, and he couldn’t see how many soldiers were inside or behind them. Not far behind the shield carts were individual Jurchen soldiers, and even further back were hundreds of auxiliaries carrying large wooden shields, big enough to hide two or three men behind.

Estimating roughly, Yue Yang concluded that the Jurchens had mobilized over three thousand combatants and more than five hundred auxiliaries. Though he couldn’t see the activity behind the shield carts clearly, he recalled from history books that the Jurchens or Qing army often used shield carts as the frontline to absorb the Ming’s firepower, protecting soldiers with bows and firearms. Behind the shield carts were heavily armored soldiers, clad in double-layered armor—an inner chainmail layer and an outer cotton-padded layer reinforced with iron plates—providing formidable protection against most arrows.

Some Jurchen generals even wore triple-layered armor: chainmail innermost, iron armor in the middle, and iron-padded cotton on the outside, which could effectively resist arrows and firearms at a distance.

“Damn, these Jurchen Tartars really came in wearing turtle shells,” Yue Yang muttered, feeling uneasy. He wasn’t sure if the mini firearms could pierce through multiple layers of armor.

The shield carts pushed closer, now within about two hundred paces—close enough to see them clearly. They had tall, thick wooden fronts covered with padded leather, four wheels for mobility, and could conceal troops inside ready to leap out and fight. These shield carts were the Jurchens’ pride in siege and assault operations, often decisive in previous battles.

Seeing the approaching carts, Yue Yang immediately commanded, “Deploy the Hu Dun cannons! Destroy those damn shield carts!”

Soon, over a hundred Ming soldiers carried twelve Hu Dun cannons through the center of the formations to the front. The Hu Dun cannon was a lightweight artillery piece, roughly two feet long with seven iron hoops, supported by iron claws and a foot bridle, weighing thirty-six jin. Before firing, it had to be fixed to the ground with large iron spikes. Each shot could load one hundred small lead balls or pebbles weighing five qian—a deadly weapon against infantry.

Yue Yang had improved the cannons with modern techniques, enlarging the caliber without increasing weight. Each could now fire 200 lead balls or a single eight-jin iron shot with one to two jin of black powder, reaching a mile away.

The soldiers set the cannons on the ground, hammering the iron spikes to secure them. Two gunners loaded the powder and tamped it down with wooden rods, added the iron balls, and primed the fuse.

Eagerly, Feng Xiaoming drew his sword, pointed forward, and shouted, “Fire!”

“Boom! Boom! Boom!” The twelve Hu Dun cannons roared in succession.

All eyes followed the twelve fiery, smoke-trailing projectiles flying toward the Jurchens.

“Boom!”

A violent impact sounded. An eight-jin iron ball, superheated and high-velocity, struck a shield cart. Though encased in thick wood, the cart was obliterated, splitting apart and revealing five or six Tartars inside. The ball’s momentum carried further, smashing a Tartar’s head and taking half his face. He fell silently, white brain matter spilling across the ground.

The remaining Tartars and soldiers behind the carts scattered in panic.

“Well done!”

Feng Xiaoming watched the cart shatter and the fleeing Tartars with elation. He checked the other projectiles, but regrettably, only one of the twelve balls had hit a cart; the rest missed.

Still, the missed balls had an effect. Several bounced across the ground, striking Jurchen auxiliaries with heavy shields. The eight-jin balls’ inertia was devastating; even the thick shields splintered, sending wood shards flying, some striking soldiers in the face and drawing blood.

“Reload quickly!” Feng Xiaoming commanded the gunners from the rear.

They didn’t need telling; the loaders had already cleaned the residue from the cannons, poured in powder, loaded the iron balls, inserted fuses, and readied the next shot. The gunners adjusted the aim and fired again.

“Boom! Boom! Boom!”

Three more volleys launched, hitting four shield carts and a dozen heavy shields, injuring thirty to forty Jurchen soldiers.

But Yue Yang shook his head in mild dissatisfaction, wanting even better results.