MLMD -Chapter 228 Much Ado About Nothing

Bang—bang—bang…

As the rhythmic gunfire rang out, Manchu cavalrymen were continually knocked from their horses, only to be trampled into pulp by the comrades surging up behind them.

“Charge—charge forward and kill them! Kill them all!”

Watching his riders fall one after another, Hong Taiji’s son Hogg was beside himself with rage, his eyes splitting at the corners. The Jurchen population was small to begin with; every qualified warrior was a precious asset of the Later Jin state. In ordinary battles, they would drive forward expendable troops—Koreans, Han Chinese, Mongols—as cannon fodder, only committing their Eight Banner warriors for the final blow once the enemy had been worn down. But today’s mission was a surprise attack, and Hogg had brought only elite Jurchen troops. Seeing Eight Banner warriors shot down before they could even reach the enemy lines made his heart bleed.

“Charge! Kill them!”

In his fury, Hogg no longer cared about the lives of his own men, urging them on like a madman to smash into the two formations ahead.

To be fair, his relentless attacks did have some effect. More than three thousand cavalrymen attacked the two squares in waves, putting enormous pressure on Shunbao. Under Hogg’s reckless, casualty-blind assault, the weaknesses of muzzle-loading firearms finally began to show.

The Ming troops had already spent a long time firing to block the retreating Mongol remnants, and now they were using rapid fire against the Later Jin cavalry. The frequent firing caused the gun barrels to grow hot—some even glowing red—forcing the musketeers to slow their rate of fire.

Hearing the gunfire within the formation gradually slacken, Shunbao’s face darkened and he was about to explode.

Just then, a thousand-commander in charge of one of the squares hurried over to report. “My lord, many of the gun barrels are red-hot. What should we do?”

Shunbao’s heart jolted. Turning his head, he saw that some musketeers’ barrels were indeed glowing red; as soon as powder was poured in, it ignited from the heat, making further firing impossible. Suppressing his unease, he bellowed, “What are you panicking for? If the barrels are too hot, you still have bayonets! Lord Yue said it himself—only a force that dares to see bayonets run red with blood is a good army. Lord Yue is watching us from the rear! Order everyone to fix bayonets!”

Clang!

A chorus of metallic sounds rang out as the musketeers drew the bayonets from their belts and fixed them onto their gun muzzles, crisp clashing echoes filling the formation.

The moment the musketeers’ rate of fire slowed, Hogg noticed it. Ecstatic, he shouted, “Warriors of Later Jin! Those Ming dogs have run out of powder and shot! Charge now—put your backs into it and kill them!”

“Kill—!”

“Charge—!”

With the order passed down, the Later Jin cavalry surged with renewed morale. In the previous few charges alone, they had lost at least three or four hundred men. Death in battle was nothing new, but this was too stifling a way to die—unable to use their skills, cut down en masse on the charge while the enemy simply pulled triggers, cheap lead bullets stealing their lives with ease. Now that the enemy’s fire had slowed, these battle-hardened Jurchen riders instantly sensed an opportunity and spurred their horses, rushing toward the squares once more.

“My lord, the barbarians are charging again—what do we do?” a thousand-commander asked anxiously, sweat pouring down his face. Though the musketeers had bayonet training, infantry were still infantry; meeting charging cavalry head-on in open ground was extremely dangerous.

“What are you afraid of?” Shunbao snapped, glaring at him. “Are they wandering on the men just for show? Order them to raise the shields, light the fuses, and prepare to throw the wandiren! We’ll fight these barbarians to the end!”

“Yes, sir!”

The thousand-commander’s eyes reddened as he acknowledged the order. As a mid-ranking officer, he knew well how infantry fared against cavalry in close combat. Since the muskets were temporarily useless, only the wandiren remained. Fortunately, Yue Yang—deeply influenced by modern military thinking—was fond of grenades and had mandated that every soldier carry three of them. Each wandiren weighed over two jin; they couldn’t be thrown very far, but twenty paces was no problem. Soon, blazing torches flared within the square as the front ranks prepared to hurl their explosives.

The thunder of hooves drew closer and closer. Relying on their horses’ speed, the Later Jin cavalry closed to within sixty paces in less than a minute.

“Loose!”

At the shout of a leading niru officer, the riders bent their bows and released a volley.

Clang, clang, clang…

Arrowheads slammed into the heavy shields at the front of the formation.

The Eight Banner cavalry were formidable archers, especially with their powerful bows. Though their range was limited, the three-inch iron arrowheads were heavy and penetrating, capable of piercing ordinary armor at fifty paces. But that was ordinary armor. The musketeers of the Yingzhou Army wore Gothic-style plate armor of high-strength refined steel, weighing over thirty jin, with astonishing defensive power. Combined with the 1.6-meter-tall heavy shields in the front rank, very few men were actually wounded in the first arrow volley.

“Throw!”

After weathering the first rain of arrows, commands rang out throughout the square.

“Charge in and kill them!”

Cavalry charges were fast. After loosing their arrows, the riders slung their bows and drew their weapons, ready to deliver a crushing blow to the Ming troops just ahead. They were convinced that once they reached the enemy line, this small-looking formation would be smashed in no time.

At that moment, the leading riders suddenly saw many dark objects flying out from the Ming square, quickly landing in front of them. Keen-eyed cavalrymen noticed that these cylindrical objects rolled along the ground, trailing wisps of blue smoke.

“Not good!”

Though they didn’t know what these things were, the riders were certain the Ming weren’t throwing gifts. Alarmed as they were, they could not stop—halting meant being trampled to death by the mass of comrades behind them.

Thud—thud—thud…

The warhorses continued their headlong charge, hooves pounding the earth, kicking up dust and dead grass. Just as the first wave of riders closed to within twenty paces of the square, a chain of explosions erupted.

Boom—boom—boom…

More than fifty wandiren exploded in succession ten to twenty paces in front of the formation. The deafening blasts, shockwaves, and flying fragments tore through the charging cavalry, sending men and horses tumbling. Even mounts that weren’t hit were startled by the sudden detonations, some bolting wildly in front of the lines.

Boom—boom—boom…

The successive explosions utterly panicked the horses. Anyone who understood horses knew how hard it was to control a frightened mount. As panicked horses ran amok before the formation, the previously orderly attack dissolved instantly. The entire force descended into chaos—some still trying to charge, others colliding with comrades and being thrown from their saddles, still others desperately struggling to calm their terrified mounts. Amid such disorder, any talk of an “attack” became a joke.

This was Shunbao’s first time using wandiren on such a scale in open battle. The effect stunned even him. But his moment of shock lasted only an instant, quickly replaced by wild elation. Realizing their devastating power, he immediately gave the order.

“Keep throwing! Don’t give these barbarians a chance to recover!” he roared hoarsely.

Boom—boom—boom…

Black powder explosions produced thick smoke, and soon the battlefield was shrouded in rolling clouds of bluish haze. The continuous blasts and dense smoke left the advancing Later Jin cavalry in utter disarray. At this point, mounting an attack was impossible—just keeping control of their frightened horses was an achievement.

The explosions lasted seven or eight minutes before finally dying down. Only after the thunder ceased did Hogg manage to calm his mount. He was seething with rage, smoke nearly coming out of his seven orifices. Just as he was about to order another charge, a rapid clatter of hooves sounded from ahead.

A veteran of many battlefields, Hogg instantly realized this was not reinforcements—it could only be Ming cavalry.

“My lord, the Ming cavalry are coming! What should we do?” a goshha ran up to him in panic.

“Shut up! Stay calm!”

Already furious, Hogg lashed the man with his riding crop.

Though angry, he knew this was no time to vent his temper. Peering through the thick smoke at the hazy silhouettes of cavalry ahead, Hogg understood that his hope of annihilating the two Ming squares had come to nothing once again. He cast one last, venomous glance at the enemy formation and ground out, “Pass my order… withdraw.”