nucmednet Chapter 455 The Battle of Qiuyu Mountain (7)
Chapter 455 The Battle of Qiuyu Mountain (7)
The refugee army quickly came within range of the field artillery. When the vanguard reached the spot where Sun Kewang had just suffered a crushing defeat, the artillery battalion on the hillside opened fire.
"Boom boom boom," a tremendous roar echoed across the battlefield as solid shot whistled through the air. Although Gao Yingxiang had learned from Zhang Xianzhong's mistakes and tried to keep his formation as sparse as possible, casualties were still unavoidable.
The shells relentlessly tore through the crowd, ravaging everyone from burly men to innocent-looking teenagers. Nothing could withstand their force; flesh and blood were reduced to paper, blood and gore splattering everywhere. After a volley of shells, the deliberately sparsely arranged ranks became even thinner, and the frontal assault suffered at least six or seven hundred casualties.
After witnessing the immense power of the cannons firsthand, Gao Yingxiang gasped in shock. This was the casualty rate even after the formation had been spread out; if they had charged in a dense formation like Zhang Xianzhong had, a barrage of cannon fire would have killed thousands. The power of cannons was indeed beyond human resistance; the only thing he could do was try to avoid their onslaught.
The refugees facing the front were terrified by the power of the cannons and fled back in droves. The supervisory team, who had been waiting at the rear, raised their steel swords high and slashed down on them without hesitation. Blood splattered everywhere, and the fleeing refugees were beheaded one by one. The supervisory team shouted: "The King of Chuang has ordered that anyone who disobeys orders and retreats without permission will be killed without mercy!"
Under the strong suppression of the supervisory team, the momentum of the charge was maintained, and the refugees continued to rush forward despite the artillery fire.
As they trudged through the pile of corpses left by Sun Kewang's troops, "boom boom boom," the second round of shelling began. Hearing this deafening roar, the refugees panicked. There was nowhere to hide or dodge the incoming shells; their survival depended entirely on divine intervention. Many simply stopped and clasped their hands in prayer.
Perhaps such last-minute attempts to seek divine intervention on the battlefield are disliked by the gods. Whether one is chanting the name of Buddha, Guanyin, or the Jade Emperor, it's all useless. As shells swept past, many refugees standing in place praying had their upper bodies, including their hands and heads, sliced off, effectively "cut in half at the waist." Those refugees who were lucky enough to escape the shells witnessed this bloody scene and, unable to bear it any longer, vomited violently.
Faced with the steel storm of 30 field guns, the refugee army paid a heavy price for every step forward. Wherever the shells traced their paths, there were only mangled corpses, like a giant slaughterhouse. Under such pressure, people were constantly trying to escape and retreat from the battlefield. The rear guards had to hack and slash until their blades were dulled and their arms were numb and weak, just to barely stabilize the situation and prevent a complete collapse of the army.
Gao Yingxiang's face was ashen. Although he had prepared himself mentally, the casualties were still beyond his expectations. He clenched his teeth tightly, trying to hold back the words "retreat," his fists were so clenched they were sweating.
Initially, Zhang Xianzhong had a somewhat detached, "If you're so good, you do it yourself" attitude, even showing a hint of schadenfreude when the first round of shelling began. However, after the second and third rounds, he could no longer relax. The two allied forces were interdependent; if Gao Yingxiang suffered a crushing defeat, he too would suffer a similar fate. He had to admit that Gao Yingxiang was more decisive: compared to his hesitant approach of using a few thousand men for a probing attack and hastily withdrawing after just one round of shelling, Gao Yingxiang committed almost all his forces from the outset, leaving no room for retreat, and withstood such intense shelling to maintain his offensive posture. His willpower was truly admirable.
However, in the face of such artillery fire, willpower alone seemed to be of little use. Just as Zhang Xianzhong couldn't help but "meddle" and tried to persuade Gao Yingxiang to withdraw his men, the artillery fire on the opposite mountainside stopped.
Gao Yingxiang, Zhang Xianzhong, and other leaders of the displaced people were stunned. What was going on?
The refugees on the battlefield were stunned. Had they prayed to all the gods and Buddhas just now, and one of the bodhisattvas had appeared to them? After a moment of stunned silence, seeing that the other side had really stopped firing, the refugees cheered in unison and rushed forward. Without the threat of cannons, everyone was fighting for their lives with real swords and spears. Who was afraid of who?
After confirming that the cannons had ceased firing, Gao Yingxiang excitedly pumped his fist. The previous casualties had not been in vain; they had finally made it through. Now, they were about to engage in close combat, and he refused to believe that these few thousand musketeers could withstand the siege of tens of thousands of men without the protection of the city walls.
On the mountainside, Zuo Wuwei shook his head with some regret. If it weren't for the risk of accidentally hitting their own men at the foot of the mountain, the artillery battalion could have fired at least two more rounds of shotgun shells. With the caliber of field artillery, those shotgun shells would have been enough to give the enemy a run for their money.
At the foot of the mountain, two battalions of soldiers were armed and ready for battle.
The artillery company commander paced back and forth nervously, instructing, "Be careful not to pick up the wrong shells. We'll use shotgun shells directly later. Whoever fires the wrong solid shot, I'll send him to the military court to get a beating."
Originally, once the enemy entered within 500 meters, although the field artillery stopped firing due to firing angle and safety issues, the range of the mountain artillery was sufficient to continue the bombardment. However, considering that the refugees' formation would become increasingly loose under the impact of the field artillery's solid shot, the effect of the mountain artillery's slightly smaller caliber solid shot would be greatly reduced. Rather than firing a few rounds of solid shot that would have little effect, it would be better to let the enemy get closer and use shotgun shells directly, as the killing effect would be better than solid shot at medium and long range.
As the refugees drew closer, the two battalion artillery company commanders stared intently at the opposite side, silently estimating the distance. When they were within 300 meters, they shouted in unison, "Fire!"
"Boom boom boom!" The two artillery batteries positioned at the front of the formation opened fire almost simultaneously. The 24 mountain guns roared in unison. The shotgun barrels, propelled by the gunpowder, burst open under the pressure difference between the inside and outside of the barrels. Countless tiny projectiles turned into a rain of metal, flying "whoosh whoosh whoosh" toward the target more than 200 meters away.
Having just endured the baptism of large-caliber solid shot, the refugees once again tasted the power of a hail of grapeshot. The rain of bullets swept away everything movable within the barrage, and people fell like saplings in a storm. The refugees, whose faces had previously displayed expressions of relief and joy, gaped in disbelief; riddled with bullets, their bodies were riddled with holes, not a single patch of flesh unscathed.
This scene was just as terrifying as the shelling earlier. The refugees, who thought victory was just around the corner, were dumbfounded. Not even a fly could get through such a hail of bullets!