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A Noble Family's Romantic Journey - Chapter 696 

    page views:1  Publication date:2023-04-01  
"All troops, attack! Slaughter all the Song dogs!" Cheng Shijie shouted, seeing that the chariot formation had been breached.
"Woo---Lulu-Lulu!" The mournful sound of ox horns pierced the deafening drums and gongs of the Wu-Yue army. Beside Cheng Shijie, each of his personal guards picked up an identical ox horn and blew it simultaneously. Nearly 20,000 Wu-Yue cavalrymen let out a shout and charged forward on horseback with overwhelming momentum.
Cheng Shijie laughed. He seemed to see again those Song soldiers fleeing in terror under the iron hooves, scattering in all directions. The Wu-Yue cavalry were the kings of open field battles; no one dared to challenge them in open combat. Four hundred paces, three hundred paces—the Wu-Yue cavalry drew their scimitars, howling, preparing to charge through the chariot formation and slaughter their way through. Suddenly, a flag-shaped rocket rose from the Song army, exploding in the air as the battle flag was raised. A muffled rumble of thunder rolled across the sky, and hundreds of black dots, trailing plumes of smoke, rose from behind the Song army's battle formation, quickly flying across it and crashing down between three hundred and six hundred paces in front of the chariot formation.
The advancing Wu-Yue army was instantly enveloped in black smoke. Within the smoke, red flames flickered one after another, each flash accompanied by a deafening explosion. The explosions came one after another, indistinguishable from one another. A wave of heat, mixed with the smell of sulfur, rushed in, stinging Cheng Shijie's eyes.
What is this?
The sudden blow left him stunned.
This was Liu Lang's plan. He didn't utilize the artillery advantage at long range, but patiently waited for the Wu-Yue army to press forward in full force. He allowed the scattered Wu-Yue troops to regroup and form ranks. Then, a sudden barrage of artillery fire was unleashed, simultaneously striking an area within 300 paces. The artillery, having been tested multiple times, was highly accurate, almost completely encircling the attacking Wu-Yue army.
The line of sight between the two sides was completely cut off. Several frightened warhorses neighed and fled from the thick smoke. There were no riders on the empty saddles. A few black and reddish shadows were hanging from the stirrups, and from a distance, it was impossible to tell which parts of the bodies they were.
A second wave of thunder followed, and thick smoke obscured the escaped warhorses. Explosions, plumes of smoke, and dust became the only visible sights within the smoke. In the fleeting moment of a flash of fire, Cheng Shijie could see his comrades, overturned and filled with despair and pain, lying on the ground in the smoke. The firelight dissipated, and everything was once again shrouded in thick smoke.
Cheng Shijie and his hundred-plus guards were stunned. Their horses unconsciously began to sway backward, as if a cannonball exploding 15,000 paces away could strike them at any moment. Some looked anxiously at their superiors, hoping to hear new orders.
Retreat was a disgrace to the Wu and Yue people. But faced with unpredictable forces, such a retreat was not particularly shameful. Cheng Shijie's hand rested on the hilt of his knife, veins bulging from the back of his hand. He felt his body trembling uncontrollably; he tried to calm himself, but he couldn't control his heart.
The third wave of thunder sounded, followed by a deathly silence. Shouts of battle emanated from behind the thick smoke, sounding faintly as if they were dozens of miles away. Cheng Shijie knew that the soldiers who had broken through the wagon formation were engaged in fierce combat with the Song army behind it. However, he couldn't see the battle clearly; he could only see the thick smoke slowly approaching and spreading before his eyes.
The smell of blood and sulfur grew stronger, and finally, survivors emerged from behind the thick smoke, stumbling and running this way. One, two, three, and more, covered in blood, having dropped their weapons and horses, fleeing for their lives.
"Brothers, charge! Charge forward!"
Commander Nangong Jianhu shouted, urging his remaining troops to charge forward. He was positioned at the front of the army, unharmed by the artillery fire. The horrific scene behind him filled him with despair at the prospect of survival. This despair, ironically, became the driving force behind his men's desperate fight to the death. Under his command, several hundred Wu-Yue soldiers, untouched by the artillery fire, fought their way to the main force of the Po Lu army, launching wave after wave of relentless attacks.
However, what awaited them was no longer crossbow bolts and swords. Ballistae fired shells of hatred, grenades were hurled at their heads by catapults, and shrapnel and iron pellets flew everywhere, tearing their bodies apart.
Meng Liang commanded his troops, calmly and methodically driving down wave after wave of Wu Yue's charging army, killing them one after another in front of the chariots.
"Charge! The Great Khan is watching you from the heavens!"
Nangong Jianhu roared and ran, launching desperate attacks time and again. Each attack was blocked outside the Song army's main formation. The shouts from the opposite side excited Liu Lang. Whether it was Nangong Jianhu's shouts or the shouts from afar, they all sounded the same to him as desperate.
"Bang, bang, bang," the monotonous sound of bowstrings slowly rose. It was the sound of crossbows firing; powerful bolts propelled the howling Nangong Jianhu far away, followed by an explosion that sent blood and flesh flying. A quarter of an hour later, several thousand Wu-Yue soldiers were wiped out on the battlefield.
"Beat the drums, advance!"
Liu Lang waved his hand and gave the order. The stirring drumbeats surged like waves, and the Song army moved forward slowly, stepping to each drumbeat.
Under the banner, Cheng Shijie was so angry he bit his lip until it bled. But he knew he had completely lost. More than 20,000 elite Wu-Yue cavalry had been killed by that mysterious thing, and he still didn't know what it was.
"Sound the bugle and order the brothers to disperse and retreat!" Cheng Shijie shouted, his eyes red as he looked at the Song army that was slowly pressing down like a mountain.
Dozens of Wu-Yue soldiers, their faces indistinguishable, ran over, supporting each other. Wounded soldiers continued to crawl up from the pile of corpses, staggering back, taking a few steps, collapsing, getting up again, and continuing. This repeated several times until they finally couldn't escape the Song army's firing range. Arrows flew in from afar, pinning them to the center of the two armies.
"Withdraw." Cheng Shijie turned his horse around and led more than a hundred guards and wounded soldiers back the way they came.
"Hmph, trying to run away." Liu Lang sneered. "Cavalry brigade, switch to crossbows and give chase."
"Yes," cavalry brigade commander Lü Riliang responded loudly. He took a nocked crossbow from an archer beside him and galloped off. The other cavalrymen also took bows and crossbows and followed closely behind. The remnants of the Wu-Yue army galloped straight for the mountain pass. Run fast, and they could survive if they broke through.
"Trying to leave? You underestimate our Song army!" Jiao Zan's smile suddenly turned cold. He flicked the grass stalk out of his mouth, and seeing that the Wu-Yue people were getting closer, he calmly issued the order, "Block the road."
Several soldiers leaped from their hiding places, slashing the straw ropes holding the mechanism shut with their swords. Boulders and withered trees tumbled down like a torrent, blocking the mountain pass. The Wu-Yue army's vanguard and rearguard suddenly turned, firing back with their bows as they tried to break through. They were met with another pile of boulders; at the pass, over a hundred Song soldiers were pushing rocks of all sizes down with abandon.
"Grenade, throw it!"
Jiao Zan waved his command flag vigorously. Under his command, the officers and soldiers of the training brigade threw shrapnel in a dense, seamless line each time. The Wu-Yue people's warhorses and soldiers fell to the ground amidst the shrapnel, trampled over by the horses behind them. At such close range, and from their elevated position, every step was clearly visible.
"Back off."
Cheng Shijie was terrified by the explosive device. In a short time, more than fifty Wu Yue soldiers were blown up, leaving him with less than a hundred men. Cheng Shijie, carrying his scimitar, rode his horse in circles. His retreat was blocked, and the shouts of battle and the sound of hooves behind him made him feel increasingly uneasy.
"We can't get out. Are we going to die here today?"
Cheng Shijie thought to himself. He was unwilling to accept defeat. He had fought countless battles and won every single one, yet today he had been defeated by an army whose origins he still didn't know. Defeated by that mysterious explosive thing.
The pursuers had arrived; over ten thousand cavalrymen had completely blocked the road, their crossbows gleaming with hatred as they stared at the foreign invaders. The Song army's banners flew high.
Cheng Shijie, nicknamed "Yang Liulang," looked at the flag with a wry smile.
"Cheng Shijie, lay down your weapons and surrender. Your men may be spared!"
A cold voice came from behind.
"ah!"
One of the guards screamed and had just raised his scimitar when he was shot into a hedgehog by a crossbow bolt.
"There are only brave warriors who die in battle, not cowards who kneel down."
Cheng Shijie shouted, raising his scimitar, "Let these cowardly Song dogs see what true Wu-Yue warriors are like! Kill!"
"shoot."
With a single command, in a short time, all the Wu-Yue cavalrymen had fallen from their horses, each with three or four crossbow bolts embedded in their bodies, screaming and collapsing. Blood slowly flowed from the lone corpses, pooling into a pool. Cheng Shijie had also been struck by three arrows, but he was not yet dead. On the faces of every Song soldier, Cheng Shijie saw mockery and pity. Humiliation, resentment, regret, and unwillingness—a myriad of emotions surged into his heart like a tidal wave.
"Ah—ah—heh—ah!" The dying cry of a wild beast echoed through the valley. "You damned Song dogs, you all deserve to die!" Cheng Shijie cursed angrily.
A figure of modest stature walked up to Cheng Shijie and gently raised his scimitar.
A swift horse galloped out, a flash of blade, and Cheng Shijie's vision went black as half his head flew into the air.
As the sun set, its rays stained the ground with blood. Nangong Xueyi sheathed her blood-stained scimitar and cried out to the heavens, "Father, your daughter has avenged you!"
The Song army immediately roared in celebration. The fighting finally ceased. The Wu-Yue rebels, including Cheng Shijie and more than a dozen other generals, were all executed.
Liu Lang rode his horse, surveying the battlefield. His warhorse, now without its master, neighed mournfully and fled for its life. The once smooth battlefield was now riddled with shell craters, and around each crater lay countless corpses.
Three days later, two reinforcements arrived one after another. Under Nangong Xueyi's stern authority, the Wu-Yue rebels surrendered one after another. A month later, Wu-Yue became Liu Lang's territory.
"Beat the drums to gather the generals; tomorrow, I will annihilate the Song Dynasty in one battle."
Situ Mingfeng stood up and gave a loud order.
As the drums thundered, the generals of Penglai Island straightened their armor and quickly sailed toward the command ship.
"Tomorrow is the decisive battle; we must annihilate the Song Dynasty in one fell swoop. All generals must strictly obey orders, fight bravely, and make no mistakes. Anyone who disobeys will be executed!"
Situ Mingfeng looked around at the assembled Qimen disciples and gave a stern order.
"Yes," the Qimen members responded in unison.
"The Song warships were anchored on the west side of Yai Mountain. After the tide came in, they would drift eastward. The various naval forces used the drums and music of their command ships as a signal, and moved out of the way to launch a full-scale attack."
Situ Mingfeng continued.
Situ Mingfeng divided the elite troops of Penglai Island into four groups to launch successive attacks, while he personally led one group to launch a general offensive during the midday high tide.
"We must capture Prince Wei alive. We must bring him before His Majesty, make him kneel and submit, and beg for His Majesty's forgiveness," Situ Mingfeng announced to his generals with the pride of a victor.
"Yes!" The disciples cheered loudly, their voices carrying far and wide.
Liulang stepped out of the cabin and onto the deck, facing the sea breeze. He watched the fleet sail away and squinted his eyes slightly. The refreshing sea breeze blew from all directions, carrying the slightly salty smell of the ocean, cleansing his heart and merging him into the blue sea, making him a small wave, a bright droplet of water.

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